So this year has started off relatively well, no complaints here.
This one is a doozy too. This is the year that I bid my 30's adieu and welcome a new decade.
When I was a kid, I thought that 40 was ancient. I mean we're talking a relic, a dinosaur, a person in dire need of retirement and most certainly out of the realm of being "cool."
It was my Dad who would often tell me that our bodies betray our brains and that he still felt like he was 16, in his mind at least) even when he was well over 60!
After watching Madonna's half-time show Sunday, I realized that the queen of pop herself, even with the ridiculously buff arms and incredible stamina, has had to slow it down a bit. We were only privy to a few pelvic thrusts and gyrations. Those damn high-heeled boots kept getting in the way, that and an injured hamstring so I hear. But all things considered, the old broad brought it and really, how many other 50-something year-old women have 1/10th of the energy she has, gotta give credit where credit is due.
And she practices yoga...(just another shameless plug for my favorite form of exercise and meditation).
Enough about that, what I am getting at is that with each year comes new opportunities, opportunities to hit the reset button and start over, reinvent yourself or try new things. Whether you make your "resolutions" on New Years Day or your birthday or any given Wednesday, these dates are great reminders that it's never too late to start anew.
And that might mean allowing yourself say goodbye; allowing yourself to move on.
Letting go of the mental baggage that holds you back can be complicated. We carry around heavy loads, loads of guilt or shame or sadness for the things we may have said or done that we can't seem to shake. I say, there is no better time than now to let it go and move on.
Easier said than done, I know but dumping this extra cargo allows us to move FORWARD and gain a greater sense of peace and compassion for others. Letting go and forgiving others and oneself is never simple but once it's done, we can begin to heal and the possibilities for amazing things start to present themselves. When we no longer focus on the negative junk, we suddenly experience clarity in a way that we couldn't see before because our vision was blurred by the dense fog and haze that continually cluttered up our minds.
After I lost my dad and best friend two years ago, I knew in my heart that I had said and done everything right but there was still that nagging feeling that I could have done more; exactly what, I have no idea. Finding a cure for cancer would be a great place to start but sadly, I never did get that medical degree, thus I will have to settle for putting pen to paper and taking a different path, one that suits me well.
While it seems like I will never get over losing Dad and Suz, time is helping to heal that intense pain. It can be hard to see the lessons that come with such a deep loss, but what I have come to realize is that during their toughest battles, the battle to live, I gained a strength that I never knew I had. And even though they both lost their fight, watching them struggle to face their mortality changed my life in a way that I am just now beginning to recognize as a gift. I would give anything to have them both back here, alive and healthy, but the reality is that will never happen. So instead, I choose to live my life using them both as inspiration and I reflect on the memories from our time together with an deep sense of peace and love. I am allowing myself to move on.
Susie would also have been 40 this year...on my birthday. Among all the things we shared, our birthday was always the most special. After 25 years of friendship, the last one we spent together was our 37th. So this year, I plan on carving out some extra time celebrating her by heading down to the beach, taking a stroll and basking in the glow of fond memories from our time together. Memories that were filled with laughter and joy, mixed with tears and pain, but mostly laughter and joy. She was one of a kind, that girl. I am blessed and lucky to have known her.
As hard as it has been to move on, I know that my best friend and my dad would both want me to let go of that pain and experience all the good things in life, just as they had when they were here. "No regrets," I can just hear them say...
So when I sit down to write my blogs, I look to my left and see photos of my girl and I look behind me and see photos Dad, and I know that they would both be proud of the choices I am making and would encourage me to follow my dreams. The two of them were some of my biggest supporters and cheerleaders and I have to believe that they are still there, cheering me on from high above.
The truth of the matter is that I am not really hung up on the idea of turning 40. What's the alternative? I am grateful and lucky to celebrate another year, another chance to reinvent myself, to start anew and try new things. Perhaps the eternal Material Girl is on to something. Maybe this is the year I start out with a fake British accent...
Nah. But I wouldn't mind those arms though...
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
I wish I were a cat-well when it comes to napping at least...
Well, there she is. All stretched out, belly full, eyes half open.
If I glance over at her, she looks up at me just long enough to curl her dainty white paws under to get a bit more comfortable. Then, she sleeps.
This cat, boy am I jealous.
For those of you who know me well, you know that I can't resist an opportunity to take a nap.
The joy of sleep, brings such a peaceful bliss to an otherwise hectic day. I only need a half hour but I always feel like the process itself deserves at least a full hour time slot because it requires some preparation. I'm not one that can lay on the couch and conk out.
No, I need to be in my bed, under the covers, eye patches on, perhaps ear plugs in...It's a whole deal of prep work.
Once I get nestled into my cozy cocoon, I shut my eyes and start to unwind. If I can just settle myself long enough to relax...
Some days, oh the sweet bliss comes quickly and I fall asleep fast, awake refreshed and ready for the second half of my day.
Other days, after the whole ritual of it all, I lay there just to discover sleep evades me. It's just not my lucky day I guess.
And finally there are those days when I sleep so soundly, I wake up and wonder exactly where the hell I am, what day it is and why was I dreaming about cramming stuffed animals down the garbage disposal.
Napping, for me, is one of the simple joys in life I am not willing to give up. Some might say that napping is for wussies, people who can't make it through the day without rest. But I say it's only fair to give your body AND mind a break from the grind of everyday life. And again, those that know me, also know that I run at top speed most of the time so a nap every now and again is well deserved and much needed.
The benefits of sleep and rest continue to remain on the front line of topics in every health and wellness magazine and talk show around. Yet, more and more people are functioning on less sleep than ever before.
Sleep is the time our bodies, just like our computers, reboot. It's the time when our cells turn over and regenerate, fighting the effects of aging, even better than Botox (maybe). Isn't that enough reason to want to catch a few extra zzzzz's?
The truth is, like most of us, I fought naps as a child. What was I thinking? I mean, c'mon...kids these days should realize the joy of a nap! Instead, they are busy trying to discover their world and everything in it!
Little do they know that the day will come, soon mind you, that they will HAVE to rush around making choices and decisions that will not always be about which color paint to use or which bike to ride or which friend to play with! But if they are lucky enough, sometimes they will, (and that would be the day it's ok to forego a rest).
No, the truth is, for most of us, finding the time to indulge in a nap is usually few and far between. Perhaps that's one of the reasons why they feel so good.
Occasionally, and I mean just occasionally, I will find myself napping a bit too often. I still have a preschooler who naps daily and when she's not at school, I cease the opportunity to nap when she does. I think it came from when she was a baby and I followed the very sound advice to "nap when the baby naps." What can I say, it stuck.
Some women have boundless energy to keep up with their kids, get the chores done, go to work, and manage their lives without the need for a nap. I will confess here and now, I am not one of those women.
I have some friends who can't nap to save their lives. I have others that can literally fall asleep in the midst of the rest of us chattering away. And then there's me, the one with the whole production...
So today, even though I really want to lay my head down on my soft pillow and tuck my body beneath my freshly changed sheets, I will deny myself. Instead, I've chosen to be a tad bit more productive by writing this blog while Piper is dozing peacefully in the other room.
I might be sacrificing my beauty so I certainly hope you are all enjoying this!
But seriously my friends, if you are not currently a napper, I urge you to give it another try. If you are a sleep aficionado like myself, perhaps scaling back to less frequent naps might be a good idea too, but only if it means you are able to do something else you love... it might even be exercising!
So as I close today, I hope this finds you well rested and if not, damn it~go take a nap!
Now, where is that cat?
Oh there she is, on my bed, curled up in a ball.
Maybe she needs some company.
If I glance over at her, she looks up at me just long enough to curl her dainty white paws under to get a bit more comfortable. Then, she sleeps.
This cat, boy am I jealous.
For those of you who know me well, you know that I can't resist an opportunity to take a nap.
The joy of sleep, brings such a peaceful bliss to an otherwise hectic day. I only need a half hour but I always feel like the process itself deserves at least a full hour time slot because it requires some preparation. I'm not one that can lay on the couch and conk out.
No, I need to be in my bed, under the covers, eye patches on, perhaps ear plugs in...It's a whole deal of prep work.
Once I get nestled into my cozy cocoon, I shut my eyes and start to unwind. If I can just settle myself long enough to relax...
Some days, oh the sweet bliss comes quickly and I fall asleep fast, awake refreshed and ready for the second half of my day.
Other days, after the whole ritual of it all, I lay there just to discover sleep evades me. It's just not my lucky day I guess.
And finally there are those days when I sleep so soundly, I wake up and wonder exactly where the hell I am, what day it is and why was I dreaming about cramming stuffed animals down the garbage disposal.
Napping, for me, is one of the simple joys in life I am not willing to give up. Some might say that napping is for wussies, people who can't make it through the day without rest. But I say it's only fair to give your body AND mind a break from the grind of everyday life. And again, those that know me, also know that I run at top speed most of the time so a nap every now and again is well deserved and much needed.
The benefits of sleep and rest continue to remain on the front line of topics in every health and wellness magazine and talk show around. Yet, more and more people are functioning on less sleep than ever before.
Sleep is the time our bodies, just like our computers, reboot. It's the time when our cells turn over and regenerate, fighting the effects of aging, even better than Botox (maybe). Isn't that enough reason to want to catch a few extra zzzzz's?
The truth is, like most of us, I fought naps as a child. What was I thinking? I mean, c'mon...kids these days should realize the joy of a nap! Instead, they are busy trying to discover their world and everything in it!
Little do they know that the day will come, soon mind you, that they will HAVE to rush around making choices and decisions that will not always be about which color paint to use or which bike to ride or which friend to play with! But if they are lucky enough, sometimes they will, (and that would be the day it's ok to forego a rest).
No, the truth is, for most of us, finding the time to indulge in a nap is usually few and far between. Perhaps that's one of the reasons why they feel so good.
Occasionally, and I mean just occasionally, I will find myself napping a bit too often. I still have a preschooler who naps daily and when she's not at school, I cease the opportunity to nap when she does. I think it came from when she was a baby and I followed the very sound advice to "nap when the baby naps." What can I say, it stuck.
Some women have boundless energy to keep up with their kids, get the chores done, go to work, and manage their lives without the need for a nap. I will confess here and now, I am not one of those women.
I have some friends who can't nap to save their lives. I have others that can literally fall asleep in the midst of the rest of us chattering away. And then there's me, the one with the whole production...
So today, even though I really want to lay my head down on my soft pillow and tuck my body beneath my freshly changed sheets, I will deny myself. Instead, I've chosen to be a tad bit more productive by writing this blog while Piper is dozing peacefully in the other room.
I might be sacrificing my beauty so I certainly hope you are all enjoying this!
But seriously my friends, if you are not currently a napper, I urge you to give it another try. If you are a sleep aficionado like myself, perhaps scaling back to less frequent naps might be a good idea too, but only if it means you are able to do something else you love... it might even be exercising!
So as I close today, I hope this finds you well rested and if not, damn it~go take a nap!
Now, where is that cat?
Oh there she is, on my bed, curled up in a ball.
Maybe she needs some company.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Ohana, Yoga and Sisters...
Happy New Year and Welcome to 2012!
Had THE best breakfast with my sister today.
We meet about once a month at the tiny little restaurant called Ohana…which is perfect since that means family. Anyone and everyone who goes there knows it’s THE best place for breakfast in Huntington Beach, if nothing more than for the excellent coffee and familiar faces of both the staff and regular patrons.
Every time we meet, I’m left with warmth in my heart that keeps me lifted all day long. Today was an exceptionally marvelous morning because we were blessed with the kind of weather that only Southern Californians know as summer in January.
I made it to my yoga class in time to relax and acclimate to the 98* temperature. I settled nicely into my asana’s with ease and flexibility. I laughed and smiled when I fell out of dancer’s pose rather than scrunching up my face and feeling frustrated for not executing the perfect arch in my back with my arm outstretched. I simply picked up where I left off.
Then, at the end of class I cried.
I didn’t cry because I was tired or hurt or sore. I cried because I was feeling so overcome by emotions of happiness and at the same time, feelings of loss and sadness for both my sister and me.
We lost our dad a little over two years ago. That’s not so unusual you might think, but our story is not one that is what you would call “ordinary.” We didn’t grow up together; in fact we didn’t even know each other until I was 10 years old.
She turned 18 that year and a comment by my grandpa’s old friend suddenly triggered a series of questions that would lead to my discovery of the long lost sister I had always dreamed of having.
But the story is not quite so glamorous.
We met and she WAS everything I had dreamed and hoped she would be. We got together a few times over the next couple of years with our Dad in tow, and it always struck me as funny when she would call him Harry. It seemed so odd to me that she didn’t call him Dad; my immature mind couldn’t process all of the emotional baggage she might have carried around the years prior to our meeting.
Dad had made the decision to allow her step-father to adopt her shortly after I was born. My parents thought it would be best to keep her a secret, to protect my feelings I suppose. But, the cat got out of the proverbial bag and there was certainly some ‘splaining to do.
At any rate, time passed and we both grew older, me into an angst filled teen with certain daily drama, she into a young college girl with a life of her own to establish. We lost touch and it was an odd and strange time. I can remember feeling sad that our relationship had crumbled but I quickly got caught up in my friends or a boy and those feelings were shelved and replaced with new ones.
Unbeknownst to me, Dad had continued to have a relationship with her. I thought they had stopped talking again and it wasn’t until I was in my early twenties that I realized they had been meeting for breakfast or coffee for years. That really stirred up a sense of betrayal and sadness that I felt toward both of them, but really it was Dad I held accountable. Once I took a minute to think about how she might have felt, I blamed Dad entirely. The good news was that he took responsibility for it. The bad news is that she, then married and settled into her life, moved to Africa to spread the word of her faith.
In the years that followed, I did a lot of soul searching. I realized that I desperately wanted a relationship with my big sister and not only that, I deserved it. I wanted to know about this mystery woman who shared half my DNA and I hoped for the day we could meet again.
A few years later, she, her husband and young son returned home for a six month sabbatical. Finally, Dad would help orchestrate the meeting that I longed for. I had a son of my own then; turns out the boys are less than a year apart.
We met at a park, a neutral place where the boys could climb and run and jump like the busy toddlers they were. Dad basked in the glow of having both his daughters and his grandsons in the same place at the same time for the first time ever.
We met two more times before they had to return to Uganda. Although these times were fairly brief, I felt a deep sense of hope and gratitude that our relationship would blossom like a tiny seedling. It would just need to be cared for gingerly and its delicate roots would soon become strong, hearty and unbreakable.
With the power of the Internet, we began to get to know one another through monthly emails. Little by little, we grew closer and the bond deeper. In the months and years that followed, I began to cherish the relationship we were developing as much as I cherished my marriage and the bonds I shared with my parents.
Being raised an only child; one can never quite imagine what it’s like to have siblings. I never knew that feeling of having to share, or wanting to for that matter. I was blessed (and I say blessed now, 25 years later but then I thought it was a curse) with three step-brothers when I was 15 but until then, it had been just me.
This feeling was different, and it felt new, strange and invigorating.
So when she moved back to California about nine years ago, I could not have been more thrilled. Since then, we have spent Christmas’s, birthdays and breakfasts of our own together on a pretty regular basis. She has been there for me when I've needed her and I hope I have done the same. We both have two kids of our own (boys and girls) and they are growing up as (mostly) loving cousins, it’s awesome!
The thing is, this is also new to her. For 18 years, she was an only child too, except for knowing that there was this mysterious little girl out there who was here baby sister.
Now, we live less than a mile away and our relationship is stronger than ever. It’s new to both of us so we are just sort of carving out our definition of what it means to be sisters and I admit; sometimes we’ve tried to figure out how it works and the kinks that come with being a family altogether. The good news is that we seem to have found a groove and it’s a dance that we can both move equally well to.
So this morning, as we had our “usual” at our favorite restaurant in Huntington, it was one of those days where I just looked at her and realized how lucky I am to have her as my big sister. Then, when our favorite busboy, the kindest guy who will pour coffee endlessly and always share a smile, said in a bit of broken English “Yaaa, sisters. I see it in your faces,” I almost cried.
That connection, that love and that bond, I am forever grateful for. And although we both miss him tremendously, he gave us the gift of our somewhat unconventional sisterhood, and I know that our Dad is looking over us, smiling and happy that his girls are together again and that we are meeting for breakfast and coffee…
Oh and what all this has to do with Yoga you ask? Well, get this, Kath digs it too.
Namaste
This blog is dedicated to my big sister Kathy, whom I love, admire and adore.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
A Stroll Down Memory Lane
January 1, 1981 8 years old
Dear Diary,
today is new year's.
I spent the night at my friend's house.
We had fun.
we ate at grandparents.
that's all I have to say!
good-by
June 9, '82
Dear Diary,
For the last couple of days we've been studying the Gold Rush, it's hard.
I have to go to bed now
good-bye!
Aug. 20, '83
Dear Diary,
Today we went to "Knotts Berry Farm".
It was fun but my Mom is leaving for San-Francisco
Tommorrow. I miss her a lot. She bought me a lot of stuff today it was fun
Well
gotta
jam
Bye
And so it began, my passion for writing, a passion that has continued to be ignited by the fire that blazes within my soul. The entries above are completely accurate, down to the type-o's and misspellings. Not too bad for a beginner. Of all the writing I have done in my life, my journals provide more entertainment and insight than anything I else I have written so far.
I have kept a journal, better known as "Dear Diary" for 31 years now. I have not always been faithful to daily entries, and more often than not, I have written in spurts, usually when I am struggling with something or someone. Isn't that always the case, seems I have always written like a real media person since I was 8 years-old, going for the most shocking, scintillating and sensational tale. I mean, c'mon-the story about new year's, the friend's house, the fun? Doesn't get much more provocative than that...
I would offer up some more of my entries from my tween and early teen years, however to protect the innocent (including myself) I choose to omit those bits. Suffice it to say, most of the pages are filled with triumph (meeting a new boy, falling in love AGAIN) and tragedy (breaking up with said boy and having my heart broken, AGAIN). There are also juicy tidbits of gossip and name-calling about friends and enemies alike.
The funny thing is that when I look back on that time in my life, I can see that often, I wasn't being completely honest for fear that someone might discover my journals, read them and know what I was really up to...which was relatively benign and harmless.
It wasn't until I reached high school that the pages began to fill with more deeply emotional thoughts and pleas for advice from the floral fabric covered book that I hoped would surely hold all the answers. I began to confide my true feelings, perhaps secretly hoping they might be discovered.
There are seven of them, these chapters from my life, each one telling a different story, all deeply personal and reflective and in my own words, covering the span of the past 30 years.
Initially I started looking for my journals to use as a tool for research and ideas for short stories or perhaps for that book I am (still) working on. I thought maybe I could shape a character by using anecdotes from my past, but what I remembered as I read through the pages, is that I suffered from deep sadness and depression in my latter teen years, that frankly, I am amazed I was able to escape. I suppose I could channel that energy again, but reliving that stuff...it just puts a bad taste in my mouth. Could make for a good novel though, we'll see.
When I finished the fourth book, it really stirred up a great deal of emotion. That was such a difficult time in my life, there were major transitions like moving in with my dad, changing schools for the fifth time, questions about love and comments on sex, drugs and rock-n-roll, quite literally. A lot of crazy stuff started happening when I got into high school during the late '80's.
I realized that I compartmentalized that part of my life because those memories were so cumbersome and painful. They held me back from moving on with my life. Instead, I talked myself into thinking that my teenage years weren't all that bad and that I lived a pretty cushy life.
These handwritten pages suggest otherwise.
But I am resilient, this I know for sure. Now I can read those entries without being dragged down because I recognize how much I have changed. All those experiences have served me in some way, they have allowed me to grow and accept myself, shortcomings and all. Through my darkest hours, I could still see light. I still had hope that I could overcome obstacles and face the challenges that held me back. Something inside gave me strength to alter the patterns that had become deeply ingrained in my psyche and I persevered.
One of the things I am grateful for now, is that when I interact with kids today, my own included, I feel like I have a better understanding of what they might be going through. Things haven't changed all that much in the past 25 years in terms of how teens relate to each other.
The means of communication and the terminology may have changed (texts, emails, etc.) but the emotions are still the same. I feel like I might have a better grip on what they are thinking about because I have physical evidence of what I was thinking and feeling at that age. That, and a WHOLE lot of psychology and sociology classes under my belt!
Don't get me wrong, there were many good times, but I can still remember the times I felt so lost and empty inside, and I know that even the most well-adjusted kids can struggle with issues of self-esteem and loneliness. It's an exceptionally trying time, those teenage years, and no one is immune.
Carpe diem, is the motto I live by. I have learned through vivid and emotionally traumatic experiences in my own life that right now, this very moment, is really all that we can know for certain. But, looking back has allowed me to see how far I have come. I have grown, changed and overcome my past like a phoenix rising from the ashes of a very dark and scary place.
Reflecting on our own history is the only way we can change our future. If you kept a diary, I urge you to find it and look back on the days when you struggled to fit in, find yourself and get through the day. I promise, it will give you both laughter, tears and an opportunity to understand yourself and your own kids a little bit better than before.
If you never kept a journal, it's never too late to start. I am thankful every day, that I have kept a record of my life. I am grateful that I can look back and harness those memories, and take with them the lessons that each one can offer.
Although I still keep a handwritten journal, the entries have become few and far between. Instead, I've chosen to share my thoughts and ideas in a very public manner, via this blog...which (in cast you didn't know) stands for "Web Log" otherwise known as an "online diary."
Although I am fairly certain that my writing has improved since I was eight, why fix something that was never really broken?
So in keeping with the standard theme...I leave you with this.
Dec. 1,'11 39 years old
Dear Diary,
Today is December 1 and the holidays are here.
I think they will be really neat.
I hope I get some really cool stuff.
I really like my readers, they are cool too.
Today was fun.
That's all I have to say.
Good-bye.
Dear Diary,
today is new year's.
I spent the night at my friend's house.
We had fun.
we ate at grandparents.
that's all I have to say!
good-by
June 9, '82
Dear Diary,
For the last couple of days we've been studying the Gold Rush, it's hard.
I have to go to bed now
good-bye!
Aug. 20, '83
Dear Diary,
Today we went to "Knotts Berry Farm".
It was fun but my Mom is leaving for San-Francisco
Tommorrow. I miss her a lot. She bought me a lot of stuff today it was fun
Well
gotta
jam
Bye
And so it began, my passion for writing, a passion that has continued to be ignited by the fire that blazes within my soul. The entries above are completely accurate, down to the type-o's and misspellings. Not too bad for a beginner. Of all the writing I have done in my life, my journals provide more entertainment and insight than anything I else I have written so far.
I have kept a journal, better known as "Dear Diary" for 31 years now. I have not always been faithful to daily entries, and more often than not, I have written in spurts, usually when I am struggling with something or someone. Isn't that always the case, seems I have always written like a real media person since I was 8 years-old, going for the most shocking, scintillating and sensational tale. I mean, c'mon-the story about new year's, the friend's house, the fun? Doesn't get much more provocative than that...
I would offer up some more of my entries from my tween and early teen years, however to protect the innocent (including myself) I choose to omit those bits. Suffice it to say, most of the pages are filled with triumph (meeting a new boy, falling in love AGAIN) and tragedy (breaking up with said boy and having my heart broken, AGAIN). There are also juicy tidbits of gossip and name-calling about friends and enemies alike.
The funny thing is that when I look back on that time in my life, I can see that often, I wasn't being completely honest for fear that someone might discover my journals, read them and know what I was really up to...which was relatively benign and harmless.
It wasn't until I reached high school that the pages began to fill with more deeply emotional thoughts and pleas for advice from the floral fabric covered book that I hoped would surely hold all the answers. I began to confide my true feelings, perhaps secretly hoping they might be discovered.
There are seven of them, these chapters from my life, each one telling a different story, all deeply personal and reflective and in my own words, covering the span of the past 30 years.
Initially I started looking for my journals to use as a tool for research and ideas for short stories or perhaps for that book I am (still) working on. I thought maybe I could shape a character by using anecdotes from my past, but what I remembered as I read through the pages, is that I suffered from deep sadness and depression in my latter teen years, that frankly, I am amazed I was able to escape. I suppose I could channel that energy again, but reliving that stuff...it just puts a bad taste in my mouth. Could make for a good novel though, we'll see.
When I finished the fourth book, it really stirred up a great deal of emotion. That was such a difficult time in my life, there were major transitions like moving in with my dad, changing schools for the fifth time, questions about love and comments on sex, drugs and rock-n-roll, quite literally. A lot of crazy stuff started happening when I got into high school during the late '80's.
I realized that I compartmentalized that part of my life because those memories were so cumbersome and painful. They held me back from moving on with my life. Instead, I talked myself into thinking that my teenage years weren't all that bad and that I lived a pretty cushy life.
These handwritten pages suggest otherwise.
But I am resilient, this I know for sure. Now I can read those entries without being dragged down because I recognize how much I have changed. All those experiences have served me in some way, they have allowed me to grow and accept myself, shortcomings and all. Through my darkest hours, I could still see light. I still had hope that I could overcome obstacles and face the challenges that held me back. Something inside gave me strength to alter the patterns that had become deeply ingrained in my psyche and I persevered.
One of the things I am grateful for now, is that when I interact with kids today, my own included, I feel like I have a better understanding of what they might be going through. Things haven't changed all that much in the past 25 years in terms of how teens relate to each other.
The means of communication and the terminology may have changed (texts, emails, etc.) but the emotions are still the same. I feel like I might have a better grip on what they are thinking about because I have physical evidence of what I was thinking and feeling at that age. That, and a WHOLE lot of psychology and sociology classes under my belt!
Don't get me wrong, there were many good times, but I can still remember the times I felt so lost and empty inside, and I know that even the most well-adjusted kids can struggle with issues of self-esteem and loneliness. It's an exceptionally trying time, those teenage years, and no one is immune.
Carpe diem, is the motto I live by. I have learned through vivid and emotionally traumatic experiences in my own life that right now, this very moment, is really all that we can know for certain. But, looking back has allowed me to see how far I have come. I have grown, changed and overcome my past like a phoenix rising from the ashes of a very dark and scary place.
Reflecting on our own history is the only way we can change our future. If you kept a diary, I urge you to find it and look back on the days when you struggled to fit in, find yourself and get through the day. I promise, it will give you both laughter, tears and an opportunity to understand yourself and your own kids a little bit better than before.
If you never kept a journal, it's never too late to start. I am thankful every day, that I have kept a record of my life. I am grateful that I can look back and harness those memories, and take with them the lessons that each one can offer.
Although I still keep a handwritten journal, the entries have become few and far between. Instead, I've chosen to share my thoughts and ideas in a very public manner, via this blog...which (in cast you didn't know) stands for "Web Log" otherwise known as an "online diary."
Although I am fairly certain that my writing has improved since I was eight, why fix something that was never really broken?
So in keeping with the standard theme...I leave you with this.
Dec. 1,'11 39 years old
Dear Diary,
Today is December 1 and the holidays are here.
I think they will be really neat.
I hope I get some really cool stuff.
I really like my readers, they are cool too.
Today was fun.
That's all I have to say.
Good-bye.
Monday, November 21, 2011
And the stockings were hung...Well at least the lights were.
It's November 21 and my Christmas lights are hung.
Thank goodness for the efficient team known as "The Lite Guys" who called me two weeks ago to set up the date. Turns out this is the first time the twinklers have been up before Thanksgiving!
I am so excited because this is, for me, the single best way to kick off the holiday season. I LOVE the lights and all the accoutrements that go with decorating for Christmas or Chanukah or Kwanzaa, whatever you celebrate. This is the time of year when we seem to let our hearts soften a bit and we remember to give thanks and appreciate the ones we love.
It is also the beginning of what can surely be defined as blissful chaos. Try as we might, planning ahead for things like Christmas shopping and filling out cards, often is just a thoughtful idea. Most of us scramble around in a frantic state of panic trying to complete all of the tasks on our lists. That's if we are lucky enough to remember to make one! We should look to dear old St. Nick...he works on his list all year long!
Making lists are essential for me, but I sometimes forget what is most important...making my list of priorities. All this being said, one of the things at the top of my personal agenda is trying to remain focused and get back on track with writing. It seems that everyday distractions like my kid getting a lollipop stuck in her hair or the boy needing a ride to some friend's house can completely derail any attempt at actually putting words to thoughts and thoughts to paper...well alright, a computer screen really.
So I wonder, is now the time of year to think about resolutions instead of January first? Well that's such a confusing word, it sets us up for disappointment almost immediately because the connotation associated with a "resolution," is that it's almost always something that we dread doing.
Instead, why not focus on the positive aspects and potential changes that a resolution can make in our lives. We can start by redefining what the word resolution means to us. Changing the terms, conditions and meaning is one way. For example we can make small daily resolutions that are much easier to stick to rather than overwhelming plans for massive changes over the course of a year.
For me, perhaps it means that I resolve to be easier on myself when I don't write. Maybe I give myself a little more slack if when I do write, it's not absolutely perfect. Maybe I let myself enjoy the mere fact that I have taken the time out of my busy life to nurture my soul and spirit by doing something I love to do. Maybe it means that I set some attainable goals and forgive myself if I don't reach them, and then keep trying anyway.
What kind of resolution are you setting for yourself? Maybe you want to smile more, get up 15 minutes earlier, stop caffeine, start making lists or maybe it's just to cut yourself a little slack in life. Whatever it is, try to make it something you will feel both satisfaction and joy when trying to accomplish your intention. And forgive yourself if you don't meet the desired goal, and just keep on truckin' along.
So today, make a tiny resolution, one that you're sure you can keep. Today, resolve to give yourself a hug and remember all the wonderful qualities that you have. Remember that this is the season of caring which also means caring for yourself. Remember that the holidays are about so much more than gifts and crowded shopping malls. Channel your inner Clark Griswold, hang those lights (or call The Lite Guys) and remember to enjoy the all the vivid illuminated splendor of the garish over-the-top holiday decor that only comes around this time of year!
And now I bid you adieu and it is with great anticipation that I await thet sun setting so that I can see my own Christmas lights twinkling and sparkling in the cool winter night...
Thank goodness for the efficient team known as "The Lite Guys" who called me two weeks ago to set up the date. Turns out this is the first time the twinklers have been up before Thanksgiving!
I am so excited because this is, for me, the single best way to kick off the holiday season. I LOVE the lights and all the accoutrements that go with decorating for Christmas or Chanukah or Kwanzaa, whatever you celebrate. This is the time of year when we seem to let our hearts soften a bit and we remember to give thanks and appreciate the ones we love.
It is also the beginning of what can surely be defined as blissful chaos. Try as we might, planning ahead for things like Christmas shopping and filling out cards, often is just a thoughtful idea. Most of us scramble around in a frantic state of panic trying to complete all of the tasks on our lists. That's if we are lucky enough to remember to make one! We should look to dear old St. Nick...he works on his list all year long!
Making lists are essential for me, but I sometimes forget what is most important...making my list of priorities. All this being said, one of the things at the top of my personal agenda is trying to remain focused and get back on track with writing. It seems that everyday distractions like my kid getting a lollipop stuck in her hair or the boy needing a ride to some friend's house can completely derail any attempt at actually putting words to thoughts and thoughts to paper...well alright, a computer screen really.
So I wonder, is now the time of year to think about resolutions instead of January first? Well that's such a confusing word, it sets us up for disappointment almost immediately because the connotation associated with a "resolution," is that it's almost always something that we dread doing.
Instead, why not focus on the positive aspects and potential changes that a resolution can make in our lives. We can start by redefining what the word resolution means to us. Changing the terms, conditions and meaning is one way. For example we can make small daily resolutions that are much easier to stick to rather than overwhelming plans for massive changes over the course of a year.
For me, perhaps it means that I resolve to be easier on myself when I don't write. Maybe I give myself a little more slack if when I do write, it's not absolutely perfect. Maybe I let myself enjoy the mere fact that I have taken the time out of my busy life to nurture my soul and spirit by doing something I love to do. Maybe it means that I set some attainable goals and forgive myself if I don't reach them, and then keep trying anyway.
What kind of resolution are you setting for yourself? Maybe you want to smile more, get up 15 minutes earlier, stop caffeine, start making lists or maybe it's just to cut yourself a little slack in life. Whatever it is, try to make it something you will feel both satisfaction and joy when trying to accomplish your intention. And forgive yourself if you don't meet the desired goal, and just keep on truckin' along.
So today, make a tiny resolution, one that you're sure you can keep. Today, resolve to give yourself a hug and remember all the wonderful qualities that you have. Remember that this is the season of caring which also means caring for yourself. Remember that the holidays are about so much more than gifts and crowded shopping malls. Channel your inner Clark Griswold, hang those lights (or call The Lite Guys) and remember to enjoy the all the vivid illuminated splendor of the garish over-the-top holiday decor that only comes around this time of year!
And now I bid you adieu and it is with great anticipation that I await thet sun setting so that I can see my own Christmas lights twinkling and sparkling in the cool winter night...
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Reunions: Part Deux
Well, it came and went, my Jr. High Reunion.
And, I am happy to report that given the intense build-up and a little bit of drama pre-event (courtesy of nearly three months of threads on a Web page filled with witty, racy, and sometimes misinterpreted banter), it seems as though all of those in attendance had zero regrets about coming, in fact it was such a success that like an ending to a prolific sitcom like "Cheers," there are already spin-off reunions happening that I suspect will have the same kind of success...a la "Frasier."
The power of the Internet, and Facebook in particular, allowed us to reach about 350 people and the night brought together well over 100 of us, our tight little community from Santa Ana.
Friends came from as far away as the East Coast and as near as the same city in which they reside. We all gathered together to reminisce about our youth and catch up on the happenings of today.
I can honestly say that I was more than pleasantly surprised at how smooth the transition into comfortable conversations was after not seeing one another for the better part of 25 years. Of course, some small groups of friends had kept in close contact but for the most part people had lost touch. And once we were all in the same room together again, it felt like old times...literally.
Which begs the question; How much do we really change? I mean of course we change, but do the people who knew us in our most awkward and challenging years, get over the stereotyping and labels we used to put on one another? We are all guilty of it but I would hope that after over two decades, those pre-conceived ideas and notions about our fellow classmates would no longer exist, and I felt that for the most part, that was the case.
I think that has a lot to do with the age we are now, most of us in our late 30's and early 40's are FINALLY comfortable in our own skin and I know that I strive to be the kind of person who stays away from both judgement and gossip...Mainly because when I act that way, I feel like complete shit. I am not always successful and will find myself caught up in stories and rumors just like we all do but I can honestly say that this is one area that I am REALLY trying to be consistent, and I am REALLY trying to always look for the best in people. I find that maintaining a positive and optimistic attitude helps me get through my days, especially in the world we live in.
I think navigating the halls of middle school while trying to navigate the horror of puberty and adolescence is a hairy (no pun intended) and complicated path to follow. We are all walking around, completely insecure and worried about every minute detail of our appearance and status, and we are so consumed by these thoughts that we forget to have fun and laugh. Friendships we had as children were fractured and broken once we entered the halls of Jr. High.
Now, as adults we can finally see all of the wonderful qualities our fellow classmates have, without the same kind of baggage that we carried around during those painfully emotional teenage years.
Now we can relate to each other on so many levels, as parents of kids and teenagers, and we can see ourselves as friends and allies.
Now we can appreciate our differences and respect them.
I can say this, I was a very different girl back then. I was struggling with my own demons and even though I might have appeared to have had it all together, I learned how to be a pretty good actress. Now, that 25 years has passed, I am not afraid to be myself, take it or leave it. I am not afraid to smile, laugh and act like a complete goofball. I am not afraid to be friends with the underdog or to speak my mind. I am finally in a place where I can be my true self and for that I am eternally grateful.
Coming away from this reunion, I felt a renewed sense about my childhood and teenage years. It gave me reassurance that as I watch my own children begin to navigate the world of youth and adolescence, I am hoping that they too, will walk away relatively unscathed...or at least with minor emotional scars. Those wounds come with experiences and friendships that will help shape and define their lives in more ways than they know and although I would not want to go back to that time in my life, I feel confident that I can help them realize that "this too, shall pass" in times of sorrow and struggle. I can also remind them to cherish the moments laughter and joy in childhood, because we all know they are fleeting.
And once again, this blog is dedicated to my dear old friends and classmates from Willard Jr. High in Santa Ana...
Until we meet again,
Cheers!
And, I am happy to report that given the intense build-up and a little bit of drama pre-event (courtesy of nearly three months of threads on a Web page filled with witty, racy, and sometimes misinterpreted banter), it seems as though all of those in attendance had zero regrets about coming, in fact it was such a success that like an ending to a prolific sitcom like "Cheers," there are already spin-off reunions happening that I suspect will have the same kind of success...a la "Frasier."
The power of the Internet, and Facebook in particular, allowed us to reach about 350 people and the night brought together well over 100 of us, our tight little community from Santa Ana.
Friends came from as far away as the East Coast and as near as the same city in which they reside. We all gathered together to reminisce about our youth and catch up on the happenings of today.
I can honestly say that I was more than pleasantly surprised at how smooth the transition into comfortable conversations was after not seeing one another for the better part of 25 years. Of course, some small groups of friends had kept in close contact but for the most part people had lost touch. And once we were all in the same room together again, it felt like old times...literally.
Which begs the question; How much do we really change? I mean of course we change, but do the people who knew us in our most awkward and challenging years, get over the stereotyping and labels we used to put on one another? We are all guilty of it but I would hope that after over two decades, those pre-conceived ideas and notions about our fellow classmates would no longer exist, and I felt that for the most part, that was the case.
I think that has a lot to do with the age we are now, most of us in our late 30's and early 40's are FINALLY comfortable in our own skin and I know that I strive to be the kind of person who stays away from both judgement and gossip...Mainly because when I act that way, I feel like complete shit. I am not always successful and will find myself caught up in stories and rumors just like we all do but I can honestly say that this is one area that I am REALLY trying to be consistent, and I am REALLY trying to always look for the best in people. I find that maintaining a positive and optimistic attitude helps me get through my days, especially in the world we live in.
I think navigating the halls of middle school while trying to navigate the horror of puberty and adolescence is a hairy (no pun intended) and complicated path to follow. We are all walking around, completely insecure and worried about every minute detail of our appearance and status, and we are so consumed by these thoughts that we forget to have fun and laugh. Friendships we had as children were fractured and broken once we entered the halls of Jr. High.
Now, as adults we can finally see all of the wonderful qualities our fellow classmates have, without the same kind of baggage that we carried around during those painfully emotional teenage years.
Now we can relate to each other on so many levels, as parents of kids and teenagers, and we can see ourselves as friends and allies.
Now we can appreciate our differences and respect them.
I can say this, I was a very different girl back then. I was struggling with my own demons and even though I might have appeared to have had it all together, I learned how to be a pretty good actress. Now, that 25 years has passed, I am not afraid to be myself, take it or leave it. I am not afraid to smile, laugh and act like a complete goofball. I am not afraid to be friends with the underdog or to speak my mind. I am finally in a place where I can be my true self and for that I am eternally grateful.
Coming away from this reunion, I felt a renewed sense about my childhood and teenage years. It gave me reassurance that as I watch my own children begin to navigate the world of youth and adolescence, I am hoping that they too, will walk away relatively unscathed...or at least with minor emotional scars. Those wounds come with experiences and friendships that will help shape and define their lives in more ways than they know and although I would not want to go back to that time in my life, I feel confident that I can help them realize that "this too, shall pass" in times of sorrow and struggle. I can also remind them to cherish the moments laughter and joy in childhood, because we all know they are fleeting.
And once again, this blog is dedicated to my dear old friends and classmates from Willard Jr. High in Santa Ana...
Until we meet again,
Cheers!
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Is Your Next Trip to the Library Long Overdue?
My affection and affinity for the library and my love of reading began when I was around four or five. I used to wait anxiously for the "Book Mobile" to set up shop along side the playground at the park across the street from my house. In fact, I am pretty sure I thought that all libraries were rolling school buses with card catalogs, the Dewey Decimal System and shelves stacked with books. It really was the coolest.
I remember I would ride my bike over and check out as many books as I could carry and load into my white plastic basket. Then I would pedal home feverishly, spread them out on the carpet in the living room and marvel at the treasures I would have in my possession, well for two weeks at least. Each one represented a new adventure and I couldn't wait to delve into the pages of every single one.
Some weekend mornings I would wake up at dawn and throw on some warm clothes, usually a robe and socks right over my pajamas and gather up a few of my favorites from that week's selection. Once again I would hop on the old purple Schwinn with the flowered banana seat and sissy handlebars, load up the basket and return to the scene of the crime...well the park that is. And really, is checking out 15 books at once really a sin? I hardly think so.
Anyway, I would ride around the park a few times to warm up and then settle in on a bench near the old faded tennis courts, another of my favorite places but we'll save tennis stories for another day.
I would spend about an hour combing through the pages of each book, carefully memorizing the pictures and words and imagine myself flying on a magic carpet, fighting swash-buckling pirates or pretending to be a friends with a talking cat in a giant red and white hat! Gotta love Dr. Suess.
Eventually I would start to get cold and a bit hungry so I would make my way back home, usually to find my mom sipping coffee and scanning the newspaper. I guess she figured that since I was making good use of my time by reading and such, why worry that I had been in a park, alone, at six in the morning...Seriously folks, it was a different time and I can't fault her for that! And by gosh, I was a rather industrious seven-year-old, if not a tad bit on the odd side.
So as years passed on, my relationship with the library ebbed and flowed like the ocean tides, sometimes quite close and powerful, other times, weak and rather lackluster.
I checked out a book once, in 1991. I forgot to return it and got some fairly threatening letters from the Anaheim public library and if I remember correctly, they reported me to a collection agency. The amount of guilt and embarrassment I felt was a bit ridiculous but I thought I had betrayed the one social institution I could always count on...hey, If you can't do the time, don't do the crime.
So, when I found that book about ten or so years ago, wouldn't you know, I returned it. Still ashamed of my indiscretion, I dropped it in the box outside. I can only imagine the librarian's reaction to discovering this hardback, long since forgotten, had been returned to its rightful owner...Ah, the relief I felt, guilt purged and once again, I could rekindle my relationship with my long lost love. I signed up for my library card in Huntington Beach and haven't looked back.
The HB Central Library proved to be an invaluable asset when I was going to college. The resources were unlimited and I could find whatever I needed to compile the perfect paper, and I found peace when I needed to study statistics and algebra (not my strongest subjects). And now as my son navigates through middle school, we find ourselves once again, checking out books on topics ranging from old U.S. presidents to science to fiction. And once again, we can find whatever we need, right at our fingertips.
Now when I have the time, I love nothing more than to stroll down the aisles looking through subjects ranging from self-help, history, and cooking to the latest works of fiction. I even put myself on the waiting list for a book today. It's a trashy novel I can't wait to start! C'mon, I never said I was some sort of intellectual reader but I am proud to admit that I did read a little bit about Henry the VIII today and toyed with the idea of checking out a book on poems by Robert Frost...but hey, I'm not that highbrow.
One can only aspire...
I love sharing this place with my children and teaching them that the library is consistent and secure. You can always find answers to your questions, entertain your mind and enlighten your soul.
Don't get me wrong, I still love to buy books but there is something uniquely special about the library. Maybe it's the sense of community, maybe it's the ambiance, or maybe it's just a place that induces and provokes fond memories from my childhood and a love of reading and writing, now more than ever.
So if your relationship with the library has been on hiatus, I think it might be a good time to revisit and old friend. Start slowly and build it back up, remember you only have to stay committed for three weeks! But beware, don't be late because if you cross her...you will have to pay, in overdue fees that is.
Good news friends, she doesn't hold a grudge!
I remember I would ride my bike over and check out as many books as I could carry and load into my white plastic basket. Then I would pedal home feverishly, spread them out on the carpet in the living room and marvel at the treasures I would have in my possession, well for two weeks at least. Each one represented a new adventure and I couldn't wait to delve into the pages of every single one.
Some weekend mornings I would wake up at dawn and throw on some warm clothes, usually a robe and socks right over my pajamas and gather up a few of my favorites from that week's selection. Once again I would hop on the old purple Schwinn with the flowered banana seat and sissy handlebars, load up the basket and return to the scene of the crime...well the park that is. And really, is checking out 15 books at once really a sin? I hardly think so.
Anyway, I would ride around the park a few times to warm up and then settle in on a bench near the old faded tennis courts, another of my favorite places but we'll save tennis stories for another day.
I would spend about an hour combing through the pages of each book, carefully memorizing the pictures and words and imagine myself flying on a magic carpet, fighting swash-buckling pirates or pretending to be a friends with a talking cat in a giant red and white hat! Gotta love Dr. Suess.
Eventually I would start to get cold and a bit hungry so I would make my way back home, usually to find my mom sipping coffee and scanning the newspaper. I guess she figured that since I was making good use of my time by reading and such, why worry that I had been in a park, alone, at six in the morning...Seriously folks, it was a different time and I can't fault her for that! And by gosh, I was a rather industrious seven-year-old, if not a tad bit on the odd side.
So as years passed on, my relationship with the library ebbed and flowed like the ocean tides, sometimes quite close and powerful, other times, weak and rather lackluster.
I checked out a book once, in 1991. I forgot to return it and got some fairly threatening letters from the Anaheim public library and if I remember correctly, they reported me to a collection agency. The amount of guilt and embarrassment I felt was a bit ridiculous but I thought I had betrayed the one social institution I could always count on...hey, If you can't do the time, don't do the crime.
So, when I found that book about ten or so years ago, wouldn't you know, I returned it. Still ashamed of my indiscretion, I dropped it in the box outside. I can only imagine the librarian's reaction to discovering this hardback, long since forgotten, had been returned to its rightful owner...Ah, the relief I felt, guilt purged and once again, I could rekindle my relationship with my long lost love. I signed up for my library card in Huntington Beach and haven't looked back.
The HB Central Library proved to be an invaluable asset when I was going to college. The resources were unlimited and I could find whatever I needed to compile the perfect paper, and I found peace when I needed to study statistics and algebra (not my strongest subjects). And now as my son navigates through middle school, we find ourselves once again, checking out books on topics ranging from old U.S. presidents to science to fiction. And once again, we can find whatever we need, right at our fingertips.
Now when I have the time, I love nothing more than to stroll down the aisles looking through subjects ranging from self-help, history, and cooking to the latest works of fiction. I even put myself on the waiting list for a book today. It's a trashy novel I can't wait to start! C'mon, I never said I was some sort of intellectual reader but I am proud to admit that I did read a little bit about Henry the VIII today and toyed with the idea of checking out a book on poems by Robert Frost...but hey, I'm not that highbrow.
One can only aspire...
I love sharing this place with my children and teaching them that the library is consistent and secure. You can always find answers to your questions, entertain your mind and enlighten your soul.
Don't get me wrong, I still love to buy books but there is something uniquely special about the library. Maybe it's the sense of community, maybe it's the ambiance, or maybe it's just a place that induces and provokes fond memories from my childhood and a love of reading and writing, now more than ever.
So if your relationship with the library has been on hiatus, I think it might be a good time to revisit and old friend. Start slowly and build it back up, remember you only have to stay committed for three weeks! But beware, don't be late because if you cross her...you will have to pay, in overdue fees that is.
Good news friends, she doesn't hold a grudge!
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