Restraint

You may not believe this if you only know me through reading this blog, but I don't always tell the truth about what I'm feeling in my deepest places. I give some of it up, sure. But there are days when I'd love to let loose.

To really let it out.

To scream it from the rooftops.

To rant and rage and cry.

Don't we all have times where we just get so fed up? Whether it's our own lives messing with us, or all the atrocities we see happening in our world?

I firmly believe that what I put out into the universe comes back to me, so I try to see the positive in most situations. But I also realize that holding back rage or sadness or fear does me no favors. Quite frankly, I know I don't have to be strong all the time. But somewhere along the line I told myself I had to keep quiet about what was really deep down inside. That if I did indeed scream from the rooftops and someone heard it, they would realize that I am not a fountain of strength and restraint. And if they realize that, where would that leave me? Who would I be then?

Therein lies the rub, my friends.

This post has no shiny, happy ending. It's just me, wondering if that hand will ever move out of the way completely. I hope so, but that look in my eyes says 'I'm not quite ready yet.'

It's a new me (and I'm not happy about it)

I'm just interjecting a short (non-angry, non-sobby, non-self-portrait) post to say that something lousy happened to me yesterday. I won't expound, but it means that I lost all access to my two other blogs and the photos I've posted in this one, along with my blogger "identity." That said, I'm going to spend some time this weekend trying to remember what photos I've posted here up 'til now, and repost them into my posts that now look like they are posted by "unknown."

So that's me, unknown, in all posts up 'til now.

I am grateful that the writing in this shared blog didn't disappear, but a bit heartsick about the other two. I want to be unhappy with Google, blogger, and my ISP, but I can probably take the blame here. My ISP moved to a new platform, and I guess if I were savvy enough I'd have realized that would knock out my Google account, thus my blogger access. And, if it's so important to me, why wasn't I backing up my posts?

Here's to lessons. And do-overs, and restarts, and things lost in the stratosphere.

Breathe, let go

Like Jane, I've had a rough couple of weeks. I have lost focus and allowed worries to creep in. Breathe. Let go. My mantras of late, but they've really just been words that I'm not even heeding.

This week there were a few bright spots. Two friends visited. My son and his new girlfriend visited. I encouraged others to follow their passion. I offered advice. I said "I love you" a lot.

I'm standing in a wheat field in evening sun, doing just a bit of that letting go.

There is Light Out There

Without getting into detail about it, the past few weeks have been rather trying on both my body and my psyche. Most of it my own doing, my own reactions to what's happening around me and to me.

I've been working for months to really try to see how large I can be, to allow myself to dream big. To quash that old tape that says I need to stay comfortable, where I can't get hurt. That tape has gotten very loud lately, and I've been listening to it. Allowing myself to wallow in self-pity. To doubt my abilities.  To stay put. Where I'm quiet. Where I'm invisible.

Where I'm safe.

For me, safety means: no sharing, keeping my emotions in check, no more dreaming. So needless to say, continuing this project, where I am vulnerable and real and in front of the camera most of the time, is downright unappealing.

So today I stood far from the camera and I faced away. I didn't want to expose myself.

But as I study this, I realize. I'm still the focal point. I'm still here, dammit. I still want to move toward the top of the hill. Toward the unknown. Away from darkness and fear.

There will be times when I doubt myself. When I feel small and inconsequential. But even in the midst of all that, my heart reaches for the light. Because it remembers who I really am and what I really want. Even when I think I don't.

Obscured

I'm not hiding in this photo. But this post is about what I keep hidden. Or rather, what I hide from myself. About myself.

Today is my birthday and already I have been showered with good wishes from family and friends. I know I am loved and cherished by so many people. It is a beautiful feeling. But a feeling that, for me, can be fleeting. Because as with most outside validation, it doesn't last. Especially when inside I don't necessarily believe in my inherent value.

As I have mentioned before, I have worked a lot to love me. To find compassion for myself. I have come a long way. But still, I find it easier to believe the negative about me. I'm unreliable, tend to laziness, bossy, quick to anger. You get the gist.

So I look outside for the good stuff. I surround myself with wonderful people who are eager to tell me all the things they love about me. But as I said above, it's never going to be enough until I actually find a way to believe it myself. Until I push aside the negative junk that's hiding the positive.

This photo is blurry. It's hard to tell what's really going on. But if you look closer, you'll see beauty in there. Lush greenery, life, summer light. I want to be a part of that.

I have obscured my own beauty and light by allowing myself to dwell on my more negative traits. Giving them more strength than they deserve. But since it's my birthday, and I love presents, I'm going to give myself one. I will say and think only positive things about myself today. And if someone says something nice about me, I promise to believe them.

Happy Birthday to me.

I'm trying

A handful of ox-eye daisies and a little bit of fleabane in the meadow, late afternoon sun. Softer, more thoughtful, more understanding, more compassionate. This is what I'm aiming for.

This week was busy--half working, half vacation, but lots of guests and kids and in and out all week. It's easy to feel like the work you're doing on yourself when you're alone is, well, working. But guests and family and unexpected upheaval bring the reality of where you are with that self-work to light.

And I just felt like I was failing at a whole lot of things this week.

I could be a lot better at being a friend. I need to be a lot better at being a daughter, sister, wife, mother to my young adult children. I have to not give lip service to letting go, but actually let go. I have to not be controlling. I think I'm not judgmental at all--but I see that I really am sometimes. I need to worry less. I need to be softer, but I also need to stand up for myself more. I need to keep working on myself.