Morning’s Walk

I went for an early morning walk, and found a favorite tree.

Draped with Spanish Moss, the old oak

Beckoned to me to come and sit. It had been a while, and longing engulfed me as I remembered the safety of being under his canopy.

Quietly he whispered, it is good to see you.

I smiled and breathed in the early morning air that was heavy with dew drops and morning rain.

I sat down near my old friends trunk. Leaning into his strength, and rested. We talked for a while and reminisced about the old days, and about this years shedding of leaves.

We talked of the new growth taking place, and the widening of his trunk. We laughed together and I reminded him that it was perfectly natural for wonderful old trees to gain in trunk. It’s what helps make them solid and steady. Grounded and rooted.

It was a lovely talk. I stayed for an hour or so. One long over due. I have missed my old friend, and promised not to be so long in visiting again.

The best things in life.

As summer winds down, and the nights become cooler; I am reminded of days past when my kids were young. I dreaded this time of year. Them going back to school. The fussing and fighting in the mornings getting ready for school. Arguing over breakfast and making sure they at least started the day out right.

As summer winds down, and the nights become cooler; I am reminded of days past when my kids were young.  I dreaded this time of year.  Them going back to school.  The fussing and fighting in the mornings getting ready for school.  Arguing over breakfast and making sure they at least started the day out right.

Worrying about how many days they would skip this year and whether or not they were going to graduate.  Whether or not they would have all the necessary classes and if they were putting in all the effort that I knew they were capable.  Learning new things with them and discovering the world with them.  Taking a day off to go on a field trip.

The best things in life are most definitely not free.  They can be very expensive, but so worth the time, effort, energy and money that we invest in them.

The best things in life – at least in mine – are my kids. Expensive little creeps!  🙂

Bittersweet memories.  That lump in my throat when they flew from the nest.  Not because I am concerned or worried.  That lump is my heart at how beautiful they each are, and how incredibly proud I am of all three of them.  The men they have grown into.  The considerate, honorable, integrity driven, loyal and kind human beings they each are.  So different, but possessing an internal character that is undeniably their own.

It’s difficult for me to believe yesterday they were toddling around in diapers and getting bumps and bruises from learning to walk and ride their bikes and skateboarding.  I looked at them today and was startled at the grown men standing in front of me.  LOL – My heart lept out of my chest and into my throat and asked – When did that happen?  I was watching and looking and didn’t wish their childhoods away.  Jerks.  Didn’t they know they were supposed to stay little and small?

Someone asked me what I wanted to do with my life now.  Truth is – I hadn’t even really considered what I wanted to be other than their Mom. Oh, I know that I will always be their Mom.  It feels like this giant pill I keep trying to swallow.  Except I don’t take pills so I’m having a super difficult time trying to convince myself to swallow it.

The best thing in life.  Being a Mom.  From the time I found out I was pregnant, to the grueling labor and hip bone to hip bone incision and the near car birth and the fights, and the hugs, and the discipline and the weeks of not talking because I was afraid that I would say something I couldn’t take back.  The expensive Xbox’s, football gear, unexpected trips to the ER for stitches and broken bones.

Being their Mom has been the most awesome adventure ever.  I know it’s not over yet and we still have LOTS of firsts together.  Letting them out of my sight and trusting that I gave them all the information they needed to begin their lives, and trusting that they will call or text or email or Facebook when they need something is a little anxiety ridden.  Still, there’s some melancholy in the quiet of the house, the empty bedrooms and the cleanliness that comes when no one is at home.

Strange to find myself saying I miss the 20 hour days, the long treks for visitation, the picky eaters and the not so picky eaters.  I miss the questions and the friends and the laughter coming from the living room from playing on-line and hearing them connect with people from all over the world.  I miss the arguments and the making up and the wrestling in the living room and sitting on the counters in the kitchen while I cooked someone’s favorite meal and omitted onions.

It’s like taking the training wheels of their bikes and watching them ride down the road unprotected.  Crazy mixed up feelings – fear, pride, joy – holding them inside until they turn around with the most gorgeous smile on their face of triumph at riding down the road unassisted and riding back to you and throwing their arms around you for one of the best hugs ever and grins from ear to ear.

They could do it all along.  I always knew they could.  Just wasn’t ready for the “DID” of them doing so well.

As I write this, I’m kinda kicking myself in the butt and telling myself I did a good job while laughing at myself because this lump and heaviness in my chest region is nothing more than a reminder of how much I really do love my brats.  Wishing I hadn’t done such a good job and chastising myself for doing what I set out to do.  🙂

I’m gonna be missing those three.

I know that I will see them soon.

I know they will enjoy every day.

Guess it’s time to go and find something to do to fill up all this time I have on my hands now.  😉

 

When your Sensei’s challenge you..ugh

I’m old. Like 48 years old. Except I feel 20 in spirit. My body has disagreed with me multiple times and has sat me down to try and warn me of the narcissism that I will create if I continue down the current path that I am on. It’s creaked and moaned and groaned until I finally gave it the bird.

I lost my shit so I could rise to the challenge.  Sometimes, it’s the only thing you can do to win.

Please – read on…

I’m old.  Like 48 years old.  Except I feel 20 in spirit.  My body has disagreed with me multiple times and has sat me down to try and warn me of the narcissism that I will create if I continue down the current path that I am on.  It’s creaked and moaned and groaned until I finally gave it the bird and said, ” FUCK YOU.  The most advanced piece of technology that has even been put on this planet and you can’t do something as simple as drills and leg kicks and spar?  Sure, you’re gonna get punched, sure you’re going to get kicked.  Who’s gonna save your punk ass if some dude – I am a small woman in stature – wants to get his hands on you and hurt you when you’re like..60 and he thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips and can take your ass down and steal everything you’ve worked your ass off for? You’re a fucking loser and I’m not listening to you. Two Billion years of evolution and you want to sit down at 48?  What the fuck is wrong with you?  You’re the Mother of three healthy young men.  You want to have the stamina to keep up with those grand-kids you’ve been talking about for years.  You don’t do that by sitting on your ass and ‘hoping’ things are going to just miraculously materialize. Dumb Ass.”

My brain and I have been in mortal combat for the last three months.  Guess who won 🙂

So what’s the deal on losing my shit you ask?  Well.  I lost my shit a few years ago actually.  What I mean by that is, I lost my temper.  My cousin and I are calling it my nuclear explosion.  It was ugly.  I’ve spent the last couple of years telling people about themselves.  After years of people telling me about myself and doing the Christian thing and giving them other cheek to slap the shit out of; I finally swung back (metaphorically) when it has been appropriate.

I’ve lost people I thought were my friends when I spoke my truth.  Some family members I don’t speak with anymore because I haven’t been able to dole out money like I used to.  Seems they really never had another use for me.  The losses have been emotional as well as spiritual.  I’ve had to deal with grief on levels I didn’t even know existed.  ugh…I’ve had to parent myself in ways I have never parented myself before.  It’s been quite the struggle.  Patience has never been one of my stronger virtues and patience with myself – nonexistent.  To say that keeping myself calm over the last couple of years has been a struggle – is vastly an understatement.  Yoga has been a daily part of my life just to breathe that shit out.  Let me tell ya..woooo.. I’ve also had to do something that I never thought I would have to do.  Dope myself.  Any by doping  myself, I mean I had to literally sedate myself from harming someone while I underwent this descensitization process to relieve myself of a condition that is called Complex PTSD.  I smoked ALOT of weed to control the anger and hostility I was feeling.  I was seriously afraid I was going to hurt someone.  Weed kept me from completely losing my mind. I was close.  Very close.

Shit I had stored since I was a very young child of 7 that had festered and gotten to the point that it had to be dealt with or it was going to end up killing me.  I don’t recommend the process I used BTW – seriously.  Complex PTSD and PTSD are nothing to mess around with...There are other methods that work just as well.  I’m just really hard headed and like doing things my own way.    I learn best when the lesson is hard.  So that it is retained.  What is currently available (HEMP Oil/CBD) wasn’t when I began this process in addition to alternative energy therapies.  I used HEMP oil to replace the weed last November.   HEMP has below the legal limits of THC – which is what causes the psychedellics – but all the great benefits of relaxation and contemplation and creativity.  It allowed me to consider everything I needed to what I needed to work through and come to a point where I could actually think rationally again so that I could do something about my predicament.

Roughly three months ago there came a point in my training where the expectation to commit to the discipline.  I had to give this some seroius thought and packed my bags and came North to clear out the remaning bullshit that was rattling around in my brain and decide if I was worth the effort it was going to take to get what I wanted.  I would have to focus, really focus and learn new skills.  My brain was having real problems with the idea of learning. Stamping around throwing a fit, and crying…I’ve aleady been to school and college.  I’m tired of learning…blah blah blah.  I was behaving like a toddler that wasn’t getting their way.  Not something I normally do.

These last three months have been a stand off between what I know I can do, and the fear, excuses and years of conditioning that my brain has undergone since childhood.  Deeply embedded in the mind.  Takes focused effort to find the roots, dig them up and  and create new neural pathways so past behavior doesn’t dictate future behavior.

I did my Mom thing.  I waited me out.  I knew what I didn’t want.  I had to make the committment to do what I did want.  I hit me in the pocketbook.  Nothing less than full committment would do.  I put the same conditions on myself that I put on my kids when they began a sport.  Don’t start something you know you aren’t going to finish.  I want a Black Belt in Katsugo.  That takes years and years of practice and training.  Committment.  Falls, getting up, doing it again.  Getting hit again.  Getting up again.  I had done that raising my kids.  I knew what it meant.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to commit to something like that again.  So.  I took some time to deal with the voices in my head.  When I commit to something, I go all in.  It’s just the way I am wired.

Imagine if you will, a child standing in front of you, head tilted back and the child saying, “Again, really. Noooooooooooooidooontttwannnnnaaaaa”.  And slumping off to their room filled with pink polka dots and stuffed animals.  At 48.  I know.  A sight to behold let me tell ya..(rolling my eyes…at myself no less)

I like to call the negative nelly voices in my head The Shitty Committee.  The ones that tell you why a thing can’t be done, rathan than why a thing can be done.  That committee is counter-productive to envisioning a future of prosperity and abundance and happiness and strength and courage.  It’s counter-productive to getting the body I want and standing in complete confidence that if anyone ever tries to hurt me again – I will step up and fuck them up.  I want to continue to be nice.  I also want to make certain that I am confident I can handle myself.

I had an endless litany of excuses why I should not continue with the Dojo.  Work towards a goal that has been on my bucket list for as long as I can remember.  The whining has been incessant and disgusting.  “WTF is the actual problem?” I asked myself.  The response:  “They’ll hate me again”.

“Hate you for what?” I inquired.

“I’ll be successful again.”

“So.” I said flatly.  “They’ll hate you.  They hate you now.  What’s the big deal?”

Fair point.  Well made.

What I realized at that moment was, people don’t like successful people because most people won’t do what it takes to be successful.  They won’t do the hard work it takes to achieve their dreams and goals.  They don’t actually hate me, they hate themselves for their laziness.  What they are is jealous.  THAT, was not my problem.  All I can do is be an example of what is possible.

The trouble with overnight success stories is that we don’t see the hard work, gut wrenching work, the blood, sweat and tears that is put into attaining a goal.  All the general public sees is the end result.  The money, the cars, the nice houses.  Most of the world wants what the Bill Gates’ of the world have without doing the work that the Bill Gates’ of the world have done.  Doesn’t work that way.

I watched a video on YouTube that someone had posted on Facebook from Denzel Washington stating exactly that.  Ugh…I hung my head. Damn.  I guess I had my confirmation.  Guess I was going back in.

Now.  How to get back to that internal space of focus, dedication, motivation, drive and momentum.  I’m getting there.  A plan is coming together, and I am working the plan.

It makes me smile when I think of my Sensei’s on Facebook.  “I’m Not Normal” is one of the pages they follow.  I don’t think I have ever been more proud to be Not  Normal, to  rebel and not do what I am told to do.  I didn’t get to be an executive for the federal government by doing what I was told to do.

I’m a nerd. With an attitude.  An Old Ass Nerd…

I lost my shit so that I could lose my shit, and get back to the business of living instead of the business of dying.

 

Dragonpeace – AKA:  Shorty, C4, Sandpaper, and Wendi Lynn and MOM (only title I ever cared about!).

 

 

Thank you…

She whispered as she drifted

Into a post coitus sleep.

He laid beside her, spent

And wonderfully tired.

He enjoyed what they shared.

The sex was amazing.

It was her sensuality

he loved best.

Her abandon to him.

Her trust

And innocence.

As he drifted off to sleep

He heard Her soft, gentle, feminine snore

He smiled, broadly.

She would punch him when he teased her about it later.

Yes. He had missed her.

What would you do

If you knew you couldn’t fail?

Would you take that trip abroad?

Would you wander through

The most beautiful places on Earth?

Would you spend quiet days

In contemplation?

Would you plant vegetable plants

And watch the blossoms transform into food?

Would you plant an orchard

And smell the blossoms of a promise of fruits?

Would you learn to trust

That All is well?

Would the scent of jasmine or honeysuckle

Be enough to lift your spirit?

Could you wander a dirt road

And find delight in a small brook you find?

Could you learn to trust

That All is well?

Ha! Adulting…smulting

Am I really one of the rare few who actually enjoys adulting?

I so love doing my own thing. Making my own rules. Spending money on things and experiences that make my loved ones smile.

Yes. I like spending money on me too. Pedicures. Clothes.. 🙂 I have a shoe thing. LOL I think most women do.

I am greatly satisfied when my bills are paid and I’ve put the perfect amount into savings and investments and there’s “extra” money left to spend on however I choose.

Weird though. I actually feel penalized because I haven’t allocated it! Feels almost like I’m nursing a baby again. If I don’t spend my money; no more comes in. Money is weird like that too.

I like adulting. I like spending money. Without money life would cease to exist. I’m not ready to die just yet.

Maybe not for a while. Like 100 years or something like that. Wonder if we’ll have hovering cars that run on electricity finally.

I like eating and working.

Cleaning too. I’m a little bit of a clean freak. I like my house to smell good.

I like cooking from enameled cast iron on gas stoves. Nothing quite like the heat distribution, consistency and reliability.

I get to eat mushrooms and peas. Eat with my fingers if I choose.

Yeah. I’d say I love adulting. Way better than being a kid.

I believe I’ll try that again

It’s more fun that way.

I’m surprised by events

every single day.

Coffee smiles at me

Often

LOL

What’s your plan they ask

LOL

I have no clue

I’ll just respond to whatever

It is

that you do

My agenda for today

And every day hereafter

Breathing, eating, living, loving

My dear Life – How do you do?