perfect

  “Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it.”  

― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life 

I have been contemplating this ever so true quote by Anne Lamott for awhile now, knowing I have something to say about it, but did not know what.

....and then today I was reminded by someone that I am a human and don't need to be perfect. Seems obvious that I should know that. I do, but my responsive thinking takes over and I start thinking I actually had control over circumstances.

I never did have that control. Only control over how I responded. And that is something that can NEVER be taken from any of us.

My life habit for so long now has been to suck it up and keep a strong exterior...a stiff upper lip, as it were... not showing emotions because I wouldn't want to set a bad example. But I am no longer that person. I am shedding the unspoken, beneath-the-surface belief that if I do it "just right" things will turn out perfectly.

I did. And it doesn't.

I hit all of those stepping stones just right and it still did not turn out perfectly.

Yesterday was one of the most imperfect days that I have had recently. There were several things that tipped my day towards the dark side, but I righted myself and shook it off...  until... I found out quite by accident that two of my adult children are in jail. Today. Now.

At that point I missed one of those stepping stones that Lamott talks about, and fell into the creek. I went through the gamut of emotions all in the course of 5 hours. 

I felt guilty *after all, I am their mother, I must have done something wrong* 

I felt sad *I never thought I would see this happen to these beautiful children that God gave me*

i felt angry *Angry at what should have been and wasn't; Angry at their choices despite what they have been taught*

I felt hard and cold *There is nothing more I can do, so I steel myself* *And then felt guilty for not falling completely apart*

So here I sit...imperfect, powerless and thankful. 

THANKFUL?

Yes, you know...grateful. Relieved because I no longer have to sink my teeth into trying so hard to get it right. I just have to be. 

I have lived for so many years under the burden of being a good example for others and needing to get it right so you would know the "right" way to do it. I suppose that hidden underneath was an ego thing that believed my own press.

When you called me and said what a great mother, person, example, Christian, friend I was and placed me up on that "perfect" pedestal - I think I started believing somewhere deep inside that I had to keep that up so I would not disappoint you.

Trouble is, once I started spinning those plates, they were awfully hard to keep them all going at once... I worked against the inevitable that they would eventually fall and shatter. Sure, I kept them going for awhile, but once one started to falter...they all did. It cannot be avoided...I couldn't keep them all spinning forever...I just didn't know how to stop...which ones to let fall...so I kept frantically trying.

So, those of you that thought I was superhuman...now you know! My plates are all shattered on the ground and I feel proud that I let them fall.

I am so very sorry that some of my children and others in my life are making the choices they are making, but those plates have fallen as well.

I am thankful.

I am full of joy.

I am bare, raw, and beautifully naked and grateful to be so.

The BEST DAY EVER!

Yesterday I had the BEST DAY EVER....until today.... Today was the BEST DAY EVER.

Why was yesterday the BEST DAY EVER?

I Got To Dance! 

If you read this post from March 28th of last year, you will see why yesterday was my BEST DAY EVER:

They Don't Dance

I recently watched an older movie called "Molly." It is a true story about a profoundly autistic young woman. I was struck by a scene in which she was trying to explain to a group of doctors and psychiatrists how it was to be in her head.

She said, 

"I think that's what I find most strange about this world...is that nobody ever says how they feel. They hurt but they don't cry out



they're happy but they don't dance or jump around

and they're angry but they hardly ever scream because they'd feel ashamed...nothing's worse than that...



...so we all walk around with our heads looking down...
and never look up and see how beautiful the sky is."

When I was young, all I wanted to be was a dancer and a mommy. I was encouraged in my mommy quest by being the mother to my dollies and eventually, to my five children
...but the dancer in me was starved and eventually died.

There were never aspirations of stardom, but maybe just dancing with the Jackie Gleason Dancers would have sufficed. I don't really place total blame on my religious upbringing, but it did play a large part in the squelching of my body trying to keep up with my joy.

You see, OUR God did not go for dancing...he just would not tolerate my body moving the way He created it to move... or maybe it was the Pharisees who made those rules and everyone just blindly followed.
...What I DO know is that the joy I felt when I put on my noisiest shoes and went into the kitchen and pretended to be a tap dancer was a memory that will never leave my mind. The fun I had when I took square dancing at school (even though I was not supposed to - I kept it from my parents.) And the sheer pleasure of my expressive dances by myself while listening to Three Dog Night or Bread up in my attic room.

Did I ever feel guilty? NOT ONE IOTA! Did I feel JOYFUL? You betcha I did! I never did buy into the "dancing is a sin" baloney. In my mind, I reasoned that God would not have created our bodies like that if it didn't please Him...and I would not have read about "David dancing before the Lord with all his might..."

So what does all of this have to do with MY HAPPY HEART? Well, I think if I can find that girl who used to express joy by dancing or jumping up and down...



...then I may look up and see how beautiful the sky is. 

 But now, today was the BEST DAY EVER! I almost didn't go, but was grateful for the invitation to do something I enjoy, so I floated with some friends down the Salt River while it rained and was warm all at the same time. That in itself was so filling and I think I smiled and laughed the whole three hours! 

My friends were complaining about the rain and I was thankful for its refreshing.

While on my way home and even now, I am experiencing my first monsoon! What they say is true...it DOES rain in Arizona! It was storming like crazy and from the  car to my place, I had BUCKETS dumped on me! I LOVED IT!   I was soaked completely and was laughing to myself at the whole scene.

The theme here seems to be the way you look at things. 

DANCE AND GET WET...

Does the rain refresh and water you?  ....or does it just annoy you and get you wet? When you get an opportunity to dance until your feet hurt, do you take it or just think how bad your feet will hurt tomorrow?

As I continue on this journey, I want every day to be the BEST DAY EVER!

WILD ABANDON

"I believe God made me for a purpose.....when I run I feel His pleasure."  
-Eric Liddell

Yesterday, while running, I was thinking about goals and dreams. I began the thought process just wondering what my goal in running was or should be. 

It then graduated to more life stuff.

Of course, goals are far different from dreams. Goals are math and dreams are art. At least, that's the way I look at it. 

   

What do you want out of running?

That's what I asked myself. Since I am not, nor have I ever been very competitive, my goals are not usually to best someone else, or even myself, I just enjoy it.

So my thoughts went toward further running goals...and to be honest, I couldn't think of anything except that I just want to run. I don't want to run a marathon or improve my time. I just love to run, sometimes slow, sometimes fast.

Then it hit to me: 

I want to run with WILD ABANDON! 

No fancy goals or limits....just doing something that brings me pleasure! It seems that running with "wild abandon" as a purpose turns out to be a DREAM rather than a goal.

It is never too late to be who you might have been.  ~George Eliot 

Well, then my thoughts started in on life. I realized that I quieted my dreams many years ago. I put them away for safekeeping while I was helping others with their dreams, or so I thought. You can never really "help" others with their dreams. The only way you can truly help is by not cutting the wings of your own dreams....like I did.

This is something I wrote about last year and I just this moment re-discovered this same theme.

Psalm 119 says:

And I'll stride freely through wide open spaces
as I look for your truth and your wisdom;
Then I'll tell the world what I find,
speak out boldly in public, unembarrassed.

In my Christian life, I have been conditioned to allow myself to be shackled by many things.
No one person or set of people actually taught this to me...but it has always been implied with this stripe of "Christian" that I wear.

When I first really gave my life to the Lord at 16 years old, in the Jesus people movement, the buzz words of the day were "discipline" "obedience" "submission" "self control"... law, law, law! Looking back, I wonder where the grace was...and what about JOY?


What about striding freely through wide open spaces?!

As a child, I remember running through fields with wild abandon. ...not running towards anything nor away from anything...but just running for the sheer joy of it. What in the world happened to that? In my mind, I can almost FEEL it!

...and I remember, once again, my HAPPY HEART.

My GOAL is to rediscover where I stored my dreams and see if they are still alive...

...and my DREAM is to live my life with wild abandon!

(Great book to read on the subject of Math vs. Art: "The Art of Being You: How to Live as God's Masterpiece" by my friend, Bob Kilpatrick (co-written with his son, Joel Kilpatrick.) 

WHERE ARE YOU MY FRIENDS?

 O.K., I just have to say some things that may be uncomfortable for some of my friends. But then, that seems to be par for MY course these days.... I mean, making people uncomfortable. This will be a combination of that and whining on my part, as I do tend to feel sorry for myself these days.

Keep one thing in mind. You can stay in the uncomfortable position that I put you in, or you can change positions and choose to get comfy. I will no longer be responsible for your discomfort.

I have not said, and will not say too much on this blog about what has happened in my life and marriage. If you want to know, you are going to have to ask me.

With that said, this is the subject of much uneasiness among some who I have considered to be my close friends throughout my adult life. Discomfort is all I can surmise, since I have been all but ignored by a big chunk of them.

Yeah, I know I have fingers, too and can dial the phone. However, something funky happens when you go through divorce with as many years under your belt as we had. I am self-conscious and hesitant  about calling my friends because I don't really know if they want to hear from me or not. My guess is that it hits too close to home and associating with me may not be uplifting....or something like that. I'm just not sure.

I get the feeling that as soon as my good friends heard about my enormous heartaches, they released pheromones to protect themselves, it must be one of two...or both of the following:

• Releaser pheromones are pheromones that cause an alteration in the behavior of the recipient.

• Epideictic pheromones are different from territory pheromones, when it comes to insects. Females who lay their eggs in certain fruits deposit these mysterious substances in the vicinity of their clutch to signal to other females of the same species they should clutch elsewhere.

Of course, this is somewhat tongue-in-cheek....but please don't discount the underlying purpose for writing this. And that is the fact that my disappointment in those who promised to love me throughout life is deep and I'm not sure what I did wrong except stand up for myself and refuse to be dishonored.

Nobody knows what happened in my life except for the one who wore MY SHOES, and that is me only.

Some of the people who have been the dearest to me through this are my family members and those I have only recently come to know well, and I thank you all for what your acceptance has meant to me.

Now, lest you start feeling guilty because you know you are one of these friends I am talking about, let me take you back about 30 or more years.

In our little "click" of friends, there was a couple who split up. The "group" as a whole, myself included (and me at the front of the parade,) turned our backs on them. Without saying as much, they were out of our special group. All because we judged them to be unworthy because of the status of their marriage.

When we could have loved them the best, we loved them the worst.

Since then, I have asked forgiveness of them, but it does not erase a thing. It only made me feel better about myself. That kind of damage cannot be undone.

It is fitting to bring this scripture into the mix because it is one of the truest things that I have ever read or experienced: Matthew 7 (Message)

"Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It's easy to see a smudge on your neighbor's face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, 'Let me wash your face for you,' when your own face is distorted by contempt? It's this whole traveling road-show mentality all over again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your part. Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face, and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor.

AKA: "in the same way you judge others, you will be judged.."

I was reading another scripture that spoke about condemnation. I love what the Message says in Romans 8: 1-2:

With the arrival of Jesus, the Messiah, that fateful dilemma is resolved. Those who enter into Christ's being-here-for-us, no longer have to live under a continuous, low-lying black cloud. A new power is in operation. The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind, has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death.

So, I guess to bring this all full circle to a closed and locked position, I have to say that others opinions of me or fears about being in my "circle" do not (or SHOULD not) have a black cloud effect on me. If I get to thinking about it, it can get me down. Lately I look at some of my friends families and marriages and feel wistful and envious  and compare and see that most everything in my life has seemed to go sideways. I have had those who all but told me I didn't do things right and that is why I am going through all of this.

But the choice that I make is to love in spite of others' newfound distrust of me (because I MUST be sinful since my marriage is over.)

So, I will cling to the fact that the very one who gave me life and breath is the one and only one who DOES NOT CONDEMN ME!

There, I said it and I feel better and FREE!

Jarred by Reality

My precious friend, Jack Sampier, Jr. lost the love of his life yesterday. To a disease that hits so many beautiful women. My respect for his grief cannot find words.

Life can be so sweet one moment and so very harsh and cruel the next.

Speaking of life being short and fragile....

I just read the obituary today, of the first boy I ever made out with.

Random....I know, but the progression of how I found out was strange. It doesn't really change my life, but that, along with Ashley's passing, makes me aware of how short life can be and how we are only given one life.

Back to David Ohrman, the first boy I kissed....

I have been on a Rascal Flatts kick and was listening to:

"Take Me There"

[Verse 1:]
There's a place in your heart where nobody's been.
Take me there.
Things nobody knows, not even your friends.
Take me there.
Tell me about your momma, your daddy, your home town, show me around.
I wanna see it all, don't leave anything out.

[Chorus:]
I wanna know, everything about you.
And I wanna go, down every road you've been.
Where your hopes and dreams and wishes live, where you keep the rest of your life hid.
I wanna know the girl behind that pretty stare.
Take me there.

[Verse 2:]
Your first real kiss, your first true love, you were scared.
Show me where.
You learned about life, spent your summer nights, without a care.
Take me there.
I wanna roll down mainstreet and backroads like you did when you were a kid.
What makes you who you are, tell me what your story is.

[Chorus 2x:]
I wanna know, everything about you.
And I wanna go, down every road you've been.
Where your hopes and dreams and wishes live, where you keep the rest of your life hid.
I wanna know the girl behind that pretty stare.
Take me there.

I wanna roll down mainstreet.
I wanna know your hopes and your dreams.
Take me, take me there.
Yeah.

When I got to verse 2 that says:

Your first real kiss, your first true love, you were scared....

I started trying to remember some of these....then I remembered David. Oh, I barely knew he existed until we made out at Susan Holley's house. But I will never forget it. It was my first real kiss. And I liked it....a LOT.

(My sister made out with him too....but then she made out a lot more than me...just sayin'....)

So today, just for the fun of it, I tried his name on facebook. The one that came up was a link to an obituary - and it was him. We were born in the same month and the same year at the same hospital in Reno.... and now he is dead. It was comforting to know he seemed to have had a good family beside him and it looked like he had become a good man.

It was strange to brush against the past and be jarred by the reality and harshness of what was to come after we made out and grew up.

Like I said, not life changing, but certainly sobering.