Authentically Lived

‘And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.’ Anais Nin

 Have you ever read a quote that stopped you in your tracks? That when you read it, you felt the full meaning of it? The meaning of it spoke to your core? I know a quote is good for me because when it's spoken it loses its meaning. Does that make sense? By giving the feeling words, it lessens its quality, because it can only be felt. This Anais Nin quote was one of those for me. Isn't it true that in our life we have seasons of growth and seasons of stability? Both are so important. When things are good, we're going through life content, happy and blooming. As life would have it, disaster strikes, something happens, and the world we know is no longer. Or maybe, it's nothing significant, but you've felt a restlessness in your "soul." All of these things are reasons to take a pause. Listen to what life/the universe/God/yourself is trying to tell you. If you take the opportunity to slow down and lean into it, you might find that this is a season of growth, a chance to blossom in ways that you didn't know was possible. 

"Whever you are, be there. This moment matters." 

This quote or the idea of it has been following me around for weeks. I've heard it in the past, but at the time, it was just a "nice quote" or "words" to me. However, lately this quote has taken on it's full meaning, and because I keep hearing it, I've become sensitive to it. When it comes up, I pause and reflect on what's happening at that moment, attempting to take away a Truth (big T) from whatever is going on around me.

 A few weeks after this quote about being in the moment took a hold of me, I decided to buy a record player. I had been wanting one and finally decided to just do it. I bought some records of my favorite artists to go along with it and brought it home. Later that week, babe and I decided to break it out and listen to some music. One of us commented that on Side A of one of the records, it only had a couple of songs that we liked. Knowing that it isn't an easy task to skip to the next song on a record, I said "we'll just listen to the whole thing. Maybe we'll find our new favorite song from one that we haven't heard yet." Right then, I realized the beauty of a record player. We have every song we could ever want on our cellphones. If we don't like the next song that comes up on our music app, we just hit the "skip" button and move on to the next song. I feel like we try to do that with our lives. If we don't like this uncomfortable task or feeling that's facing us, we just hit the skip button on life. We either ignore what's happening and pretend it's not reality, run from it, or self-medicate so that we can't feel it. By doing that, what are we missing out on? What new skill or blessing is just waiting to blossom within you if you would face the uncomfortable head on and lean into it? Big T moment.

A couple of weeks ago, we went to Nashville.  Nashville is one of my favorite places. I lived there for almost 6 years and every time I go back, I feel at home.  There was a moment on Saturday afternoon, we were listening to a band at one of the bars on Broadway.  This band was good.  The singer could absolutely sing, but he also felt every single word.  He didn't just get up there and sing the song, but he made you feel the emotions behind what he was singing.  A moment of clarity hit me mid song. I bet if I heard this band on my phone, after they had taken the song to the studio to take out any of the notes that might be "just a tad too sharp," all that emotion that I was currently feeling would be gone.  You see, I love music, all music, but my absolute favorite thing to do is to listen to live music.  Give it to me in person where I can hear the mistakes.  To me, the mistakes are what make it beautiful.  The person that can't hit that note just right but sings it anyway with all the feeling in their being...that's the person I want to hear.  Because we live in a world of filters and botox and tummy tucks and autotune, the imperfect is what is beautiful to me. Authenticity is what I’m drawn to. The person that is struggling but chooses to heal and learn and grow through the struggle, is someone I look at with so much respect.  Bit T moment.

I guess what I'm trying to say is: Let's not rush life.  Let's slow down and live it. Let's live it for what it is, good and bad, at that moment. Let’s remember that sometimes the struggle is the catalyst for exactly what we need to blossom.  If we consciously choose to lean in to the uncomfortable, we might just end up with the biggest blessing we never imagined. 

“Life is beautiful because it’s hard.”

Jamie

Bad at Therapy

 I'm bad at therapy.

  Actually, I think I was made for therapy.  Everything about me screams "that girl would rock a therapy session."  I'm your typical "overthinker."  I take everything I see or hear or feel and I overthink the shit out of it (did I forget to tell you there would be cussing now?)...to the point that I can single handedly work myself into a downright tizzy within minutes (sorry babe!)  However, instead of being this quiet, in-her-head-mysterious chick, I want, no need, to talk about everything.  Oh yes!  Not only will I overthink every single thing, but I need you to overthink it too.  I need you to talk it out with me.  I'm a firm believer that if the whole world could just "talk things out" we would all get to a better place. Not at first. At first there would be bad ideas, arguments and maybe even some name calling.  But....if we could push through that, and learn to listen to each other, oh the places we could go.  Pair this personality type with a little trauma and you should have the star student in a therapist's office. 

I've wanted to try out the therapy thing for a long time, but for one reason or another it was always put on the back burner.  Life has been hard lately.  I know everyone's "hard" is different, but mine was starting to catch up with me.  I had gotten to the point that all I wanted to do was cry, and I didn't really truly know why. Yes, things around me were happening, hard things, feelings I didn't want to feel, but all things, if happening at separate moments, I could handle. The problem was that I felt them all piling up at once.  I simply couldn't get in the right head space to tackle it.  Every day felt like waves washing over me.  I would finally get my head above water and another one would take me out.  It was at this point that I knew there was something deeper going on. So, I sent a text and made a call and just like that, my first therapy session was booked!

As the days grew closer, I was nervous but mostly excited.  I had spiraled so hard mentally that I needed a professional "unspiraler" and I had finally found one.  Someone to help me talk this out.  I sat down for my first session, ready to roll!  "So, tell me a little about yourself?"  At this point, I'm pretty sure I opened my mouth, word vomited everywhere and then blacked out. Every single thing that has been couped up in this brain for the past 40'ish years all came out in the most unorganized and random way possible. I interrupted my own sentences to start a different one. I jumped from one topic to another and then back to the first. Bless her heart, this therapist wrote and asked questions and did her very best to keep up. 

Flashbacks to Billy Madison keep replaying in my head

    "What you just said is one of the most insanely, idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent, response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought.  Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul."

After it was all over, I overthought my entire drive home.  Therapy hangover is a real thing y'all!  However, getting all of it out and off my chest to someone that I believe, in time, can help me organize it to the point of understanding it...understanding myself, was so much more helpful than I could ever imagine.  

This is the point where I tell you that if you're struggling, if you've got the waves washing over you, hell, if you just need someone to talk things out with, then send the text and make the call. Start it now and we can share stories on how horrible and great it is at the same time!

Quotes from the week:

"I looked for joy. I looked for peace." Rachel Hollis

"You will get there. Until then. Be Here. This Moment Matters"  Unknown

New Blog, Who Dis?

10 years, 1 decade, and about 3 lifetimes.  That's how long it's been since I've written about my life.  I started this blog back when it was the hot new thing!  There was no snapchat. There was no tik tok.  There was Facebook and blogs. Wanted to learn what was going on in someone's life? If they had a blog, you were set!  If you were looking for a new recipe? Sure! Just read this 3-page narrative of why it's important first.  I started mine because I was 4 hours from home and all the people I knew (except my then husband,) and we had just found out I was pregnant.  The easiest way for me to keep everyone updated was to write it all out once and publish it for all to read.  Looking back now, the value of it is so much deeper. I've spent the past several days rereading and reliving it all.  From where I'm at now, it feels almost like reading someone else's story, but having the memory of it in your own head.  It's the strangest, out-of-body feeling, feeling.  

My goodness was my daughter adorable!  Rereading those stories were my favorite.  10 years later, at almost 16(!), she has become the coolest, most introspective young person I've ever known.  Don't get me wrong, we've had our days!  Raising a teenager is not for the faint of heart, but it's the greatest thing I'll ever do. 

So what does this look like going forward?  I'm not sure.  As a middle-aged divorcee, single mom, who is in a committed relationship, it could go literally anywhere. Ha!  

Why am I bringing it back?  Writing has always been something I've done to help me organize my thoughts.  I used to think my personality was "Type A Scatterbrain," now I realize it's probably a little undiagnosed adhd.  Either way, if I write it down, it seems less "spirally."  Also, if I'm being transparent, I'm hoping someone will read it and say "You too!? I thought I was the only that felt like that!" and then maybe they comment and then maybe we both feel a little less crazy. 

Blogspot's Back, Alright!

                

  Time to dust off the 'ol blog.

If you didn't sing the title to the tune of the Backstreet Boys, this blog may not be for you...

the First of Many Firsts

I dropped my baby off at college today and left.  No, I realize it wasn't actual college but it sure felt like it.  It might as well have been college. Today is the first day of her days as a big girl.  She is no longer my little baby who only goes to "school" for a few hours.  No, now she's gone all day. That seems like such a simple sentence, but it's taking a while for it to really sink in.  This morning, I helped her get ready and took her to her first day of kindergarten and left.  I would have stayed had they let me.  Held her hand as we walked right passed all the BIG kids and found some other tiny people that looked lost. We would have found some other little girls that had that same anxious look in her eyes and asked her to play with us.  Instead, all I could do was give her a hug, tell her I loved her, and walk away fighting the tears I refused to let fall until I got to the car.   All morning I've been running through everything in my head; have we given her enough love that she doesn't need the validation of others? Have we given her enough independence that she feels confident enough to stand on her own two feet? Have we taught her how to reason through new problems so that she can make the right choices?  Have we taught her compassion so that she will be able to notice the kids that need a little extra sunshine in their day....and that others will be kind enough to give it back to her? Will she make friends? Will other kids like her?

Peer pressure.  You might think I'm silly for worrying about peer pressure at 5, but it starts somewhere. That first day away from mommy and daddy all day...having to make decisions completely on her own.  It happens over time, very slowly.   Sure, right now it might just be "hey, you shouldn't play with her because she has cooties" but then it's "hey, I don't like her.  We should take her book away!" Next thing you know, "here, try this!"  I realize that she's not gone for good. I understand that today, when I get off work I will go home and she'll be there.  We will talk about her day. She will tell me all the fun new things she did and about all the new kids she played with. We will continue to do this each day.  Hopefully, most days will be good.  She will have only good stories to tell me.  Inevitably, there will be days that aren't as good.  She'll come home and tell me about it and we will talk through it: What happened, how she acted, how she felt and what might be done different or the same next time.  It gives me comfort to know that while she might be more independent after today, she is never ever alone, and the one thing that we both know how to do well is talk :)

Lessons on hospital living

It's been a very long, crazy week and when I have long crazy weeks, I take to writing.   Normally, it's in a journal where I can pour out my thoughts and feelings. With this experience though, I feel as if I've taken away some life lessons.  And these life lessons are the ones I can share. Hopefully, you don't already know them and never will, but if you find yourself in a situation where you're forced to live out of a hospital, maybe these will help.

When an emergency happens, whatever has happened or going on in your life stops.  All your energy and time is focused on taking care of that emergency. When you come back to what your life was before, you will have a fresh pair of eyes, roll with it...

Appreciate the little victories.  It's the little ones that allow you to take steps to the big ones!  Any progress is good progress. Celebrate peeing without the help of a catheter! Eating a whole bowl of oatmeal is way better than eating half of a bowl, regardless of the size.

If you know you are going to be staying more than a day, find your spot in the waiting room and claim that bad boy!!   You don't have to be rude about it.  Just leave enough stuff there that says "hey, I know I'm not here at the moment so it's completely acceptable for you to sit in those chairs, but when I get kicked out of my patient's room, y'all are gonna have to move."

Picking the right sleeping spot is paramount!  If you have to choose between a semi-soft chair and a concrete venting ledge, I recommend the ledge. That is, of course, if it's short enough that if you get the urge to jump off it (because you just might,) you don't end up on floor B (otherwise known as the ER). You can bring pillows or blankets from the hospital room to help with the padding and you'll be able to stretch your legs, and you MUST stretch your legs. Bad things happen to your knees and joints when you can't stretch your legs.

If you notice another tiny pseudo home across the waiting room that's been there as long as you have, buy the owner some coffee or something to eat.   It might just be a mother who's teenage daughter is fighting for her life in a coma. She will tell you that she doesn't need anything, but buy it for her anyway.

Look for and appreciate any silver lining you can find. The 6th floor waiting room just might have a wall of windows allowing you to see some of the most breathtaking sunsets.

"Hospital teeth" are a thing. Really.  Even if you can find a bathroom on the floor that's decent enough to brush your teeth, it's just not the same. I don't know if it's the air, the hospital food or what, but just know it'll happen, so bring mints.  The mints probably won't help but bring them anyway.

Pack extra underwear.  And that's all I have to say about that.

A hat and/or bandana can do wonders covering up hair that hasn't been washed in days.  On another note, it's a great start to going "no-poo" if you've been wanting to try that sort of thing (see?..silver lining stuff.)

You CAN get by on concealer and cheap mascara.

Bring concealer.   I know, you can't worry about makeup and all that junk in the hospital, but chica, when you don't sleep longer than two hours at a time, you'll thank me.

It's imperative that you accept help when it is offered.   For some of us, that's really really hard to do, but no one can do it all.

I've heard it over and over, but never understood it until now: the nurses you have make all the difference in the world!  It's unbelievable how true this statement is.

Peace out little corner of mine!  Please be kind to the next occupant...



...on to rehab...

DIY Deodorant

I have not used deodorant for over a year.  Say that again!?!  Maybe I should clarify that statement.  I have not used "deodorant" for over a year.  See those quotation marks?  Those quotation marks make all the difference.  Those quotation marks differentiate between what you may call deodorant and what I call deodorant. If you know me at all, you know that I consider myself "semi-crunchy"  According to the online slang dictionary (totally reliable right?!) crunchy is:

hippie-esque; "all-natural". Refers to the crunch of granola, which (as goes the stereotype) hippies are likely to eat.

I would not consider myself full-on crunchy, mostly because there are some things I just can't give up (while I like being barefoot in the grass, my heels are an accessory I will not relinquish and I just kind of like the smell of my salon shampoo.  I must say that I tried the whole "no poo" thing, but thats for another day.)  Plus, living in this tiny little town, there are some things I can't find and are not easily accessible.  I seriously have to drive 40 minutes to get goat cheese, and that's not even the organic kind!

Back to deodorant.  There are so many reasons why it's a smart choice to ditch the "deodorant" (notice the quotations.)  Yes, even during these summer months.  Just do a quick Google search of "ingredients in deodorant" and you'll have plenty of reading material. That's not even going into the antiperspirant realm.  Don't even get me started!  

When I first started the research on this "hot" topic, I tried some of the natural brands and let me tell you, they just didn't get the job done.  So, in true crunchy  fashion, I decided to just make my own. I tried it once and the rest is history.  It worked so well and the benefits are amazing: super cheap, no nasty chemicals, and you can personalize your scent depending on the essential oils you use. 

I'm not sure who originally came up with the recipe, but I've seen it everywhere with a few tweaks here and there. 

What you need:
Baking soda
Corn Starch
Coconut Oil
Essential Oils (optional)

This is so simple that you really don't need the pictures, but why not?

 Equal parts of baking soda... (I used 1/4 cup)

...and cornstarch (1/4 cup)

Add in enough coconut oil to create the right spreadable consistency.  This will depend on a couple of things.  1.) the temperature of the oil, because coconut oil will melt in the heat and become a solid in cooler temperatures  2.) what kind of consistency you like.  I prefer mine a little more soft.

Next, add the essential oils if you are using them.   Because patchouli is my scent, I added some patchouli oil and a little bit of tea tree oil for it's antibacterial effect.  

That's it!  Put that mixutre in a container and you are good to go!

 Okay, so I'm guessing some of you may be asking how this goes from the container to your pits right?  Simple.  Scoop some onto your fingers and rub it in.  I know.  It was strange for me at first too, but sometimes you just gotta put on your big girl/boy panties and do it.  Trust me, it's worth it!