Time

A couple of years ago, when I was finishing up my bachelor's degree, I felt like I was going through the worst year of my life.  "This will be my year" was my motto for 2015.  And to spare all of the dark details, I will just simply say, it ended up being a worse year than the one before.

Then when the beginning of this year was drawing near, I almost began to subscribe to the thought again-that a new year meant a new beginning and my family's luck and fortune would be better.  But I didn't want to challenge karma to top the previous year, so I withheld the thought.

So a new year began and on January 1st, my Mom startled our dog awake and he bit her face very deeply and it required a middle of the night ER visit and about 21 stitches 3 layers deep.  

Now, today, January 13th, I lost a friend who was one of the most selfless, loving, giving, and kind people that anyone who was privileged to have met him knows.

It is still embedded in my mind to hope that this pattern of misfortune won't continue for the rest of the year, but then I have to stop myself.  

I am realizing that I cannot recognize time in terms of years.  It is easier to measure time by the moments that make it up.  To take each day and each event, whether good or bad, one at a time.  If last year taught me anything, it's that sometimes it seems as though it's only possible to take each moment one breath at a time.  

Right now I want to honor and remember my friend because in this moment my heart is broken that the world will not have him anymore.  

The photo below was from St. Patrick's Day a few years ago and I love it because it shows the fun loving side of Marcus.  

 

He was always the one in our group of friends to organize everything, to make sure everyone was taken care of and felt included, and that everyone made it home safely.  But he also would jump in and goof off and make sure everyone was laughing and having a good time as well.  

Cherish time because time is never guaranteed, no matter how it is measured.

"Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there; I did not die."

                       -Mary Elizabeth Frye

May the coming days bring strength and comfort to your family.  We will still feel your presence among us Marcus.

With love to everyone who's heart is aching tonight,

Deb

Ideas

I've been in a state of stagnance lately with nothing noteworthy to blog about.  Frustrated with the perpetual direction of nowhere that my life seems to be taking me, I had another angered conversation with God, Karma, the Universe or anyone that would listen last night on my way home from work.  The type I've become accustomed to having (and probably "Them" too), where it begins with, "First of all, I am thankful for what I have, but what gives?  Where am I headed and why haven't I gotten any farther?"

Well, one of "Them" answered today.  I got a random call from a dear cousin who gave me some good advice.  She said, "I know that your life isn't where you think it needs to be after all the hard work you've put in, but you really have the freedom right now to do whatever you want."  At first I was wondering where the conversation was about to go, but then she suggested that I should start using this time to work on my creative outlets.  Then she said she thought I should start working on a book.  And that is when I realized one of "Them" was at work here.  It was just earlier this week I had revisited the idea that I have had so many times that I should start writing a book of some kind and then after the heated one-way discussion I had with "Them" last night, I realized one of "Them" was speaking through her.  

Anyway, enough of that weirdo "universe talking to me" mumbo jumbo bullshit.

I will begin brainstorming to see where this takes me, (if anywhere).  I have lots of ideas floating around in my head but we will see what ends up typed out.  I plan to make the following vows though:

1.  This is just for fun and a creative outlet.

2.  I will not let it begin to stress me out.

3.  It may suck ass and be stupid but, refer back to point #1 if it does.

4.  I will not take criticisms too harshly because, once again, point #1.

So, thank you to my sweet cousin for being the human channel and giving me the advice that "Them" wanted me to have.  Thank you to "Them" for using her as your human channel.  And here goes to this project that might take me until I'm 90 to finish but will be fun and allow me to get into the mind of someone else and tell a story from their perspective.  

Cheers to you, me, and "Them,"

Deb 

Coffee, Water, Wine.: Trapped

Coffee, Water, Wine.: Trapped: Today I was held hostage. Welllllll, kind of.   The story begins with me skipping out on responsibility.  Okay, not really.  I was supposed ...

Trapped

Today I was held hostage.

Welllllll, kind of.  

The story begins with me skipping out on responsibility.  Okay, not really.  I was supposed to be in volunteer training for CPR for the last two days but due to miscommunications and bad timing, I was unable to get the prerequisites finished in time.  I had already planned on staying with one of my cousins in Birmingham since that's where the training is and I live an hour away, so I called her up and told her I was still coming over but didn't have to go to the training.  It just so happened that she was off work today, so we spent the day doing whatever we so desired.  Turned out that our desire on this hot 95 degree Alabama summer day was to spend it poolside at the local community center close to where she lives.  

We decided before hitting the pool that we would hit the discount movie theater to check out Scott Eastwood in the latest Nicolas Sparks smarm.  I don't care for that type of movie and neither does she but we both agreed that staring at him for 2 hours was worth every penny of that $1.50.  Still couldn't tell you the entire plot of the movie though, or if it even had one-are Nicolas Sparks movies the chick flick version of porn-no plots, just a predictable movie set to a soundtrack?  All I can tell you is we swooned quite a bit over Mr. Eastwood Jr.  

We were still swooning when we finally made it to the pool.  Then we spotted a new object of swoon-possibly the hottest single dad in Birmingham (and then what appeared to be his silver fox single dad who joined him a little later).  

Our minds were distracted with hot men and the even hotter sun when we decided we would go dip in the pool to cool off.  When we made it to the pool's edge, my cousin pointed out that a lady we walked by was a local news anchor.  Then as we stepped further into the pool we saw a cameraman come around the corner, toting equipment to set up.  RIGHT NEXT TO OUR CHAIRS.  Since neither one of us has the self esteem to EVER handle being filmed in our swimsuits, we decided to wait it out deep in the pool.  

We secured a location at the far side of the pool, ducked into the water down to our chins, and waited.  And waited.  And waited.  We would lift our heads occasionally so that our eyes were slightly above cement level and we could monitor the progress of the news crew to know when we could make a break for it.  They set up the camera.  They appeared to film the spot.  They stood there for eternity.  Then it looked like they filmed another spot.  Then they stood there for another eternity.  There we were-trapped in the pool, held hostage by the local news crew and our own insecurities.

An hour later (but what felt like 5 hours when you are sitting motionless up to your chin in water), we noticed that the news anchor walked out the gates, but the camera tripod still stood and we had lost track of the cameraman.  I looked at my cousin in horror and said, "I hope like hell he is not behind us filming a close up of us acting like two creepers in the pool."  I slowly scanned the perimeter of the pool and thankfully he was not anywhere to be seen.  Then we located him again across the pool and saw him walk out the gate.  But the tripod was still set up and we figured they were probably going to film again for the 6:00 news.  There was no way in hell we were going to sit another hour up to our necks in chlorine, so after several minutes of deliberation and no signs of them coming back in the gates, we decided it was safe to return to our chairs, gather our belongings, and get the hell out of Dodge.  

So I succesfully evaded my captors and avoided being on the local news with all my jiggly parts exposed.  And the only scars I had thankfully were these:

A condition known as prune fingers.  

Wishing you all a high and dry evening,

Deb

Coffee, Water, Wine.: Finding My Happy

Coffee, Water, Wine.: Finding My Happy: This week begins my second week of unemployment.  Turns out my backbone of steel melted with the (ex) new job when I was expected to still s...

Finding My Happy

This week begins my second week of unemployment.  Turns out my backbone of steel melted with the (ex) new job when I was expected to still staff (while understaffed) sitting in the ER waiting for Dad's pacemaker to be replaced.  There are some things in life I can handle.  Seeing my Dad basically flatline a couple of times right in front of me is not one of them.  Seeing this while my phone was being constantly blown up with work issues (and receiving no offers of help from co-workers) is DEFINITELY not one of them.  So listening to my mother's advice (she has had a staffing position before-she understood the hell I was in), I had my first ever Johnny Paycheck moment of my career (and hopefully my last).

The universe works in strange ways.  I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.  I knew there was a reason every molecule in my body was screaming "LEAVE THIS JOB!"  I knew there was a bad gut feeling from the beginning that I ignored-like so many other times in my life.  One would think at the ripe old age of 37, (that's sarcasm by the way, I know I'm not old. Or ripe.) I would at least learn to go with gut instinct.  But no, I'm still quite adept at ignoring the shit out of it.  So I stuck it out as long as I could and then bolted when enough was enough.  But it turned out that it was all a part of a bigger plan.  It turned out that Mom and Dad needed me here the last couple of weeks more than I needed to be at a soul-selling, life-sucking, underpaying, overstressing job.

And I have remembered some things about myself in the last couple of weeks that I had forgotten because I had gotten consumed in the race with the Joneses.  You know that race.  We are all in it to some degree.  The American dream.  To make more money, be more successful, and climb that corporate ladder so hard and so high that we forget who we are, lose pieces of ourself, and mold ourselves and our personalities to conform with the rest of the world.  But it turns out that I forgot somewhere along the way that I don't give a shit about any of that.  I could care less if I ever become rich or have a title behind my name because I just want to be happy.  I would rather make a positive difference in this world than to make loads of cash.  You can't take cash with you when you leave the world but you can leave your footprints for those behind you to follow.  

I also learned that I can't go for long periods of being unemployed because I will absolutely go mad with boredom.  In the last two weeks, I have reacquainted myself with yardwork, gardening, climbing ladders (the literal kind-that are wobbly on uneven ground and make someone afraid of heights unable to shit for 3 weeks after being on them), deep cleaning, cooking, grilling, running, chauffeuring my Dad when he was still unable to drive around...ok you get the picture.  I have to stay busy to have peace of mind.  I am physically and mentally unable to sit idle for any extended amount of time.  Plus I have been anxious about paying my bills because my funds are quickly depleting so staying busy in between job searching has helped me keep my sanity.  But thankfully, today I heard back from a potential employer and I have an interview.  So I exhaled and decided to truly enjoy what I hope will be my last week of unemployment.  Im sure I will look back at this time and think, "Man I sure wish I had enjoyed my time off without worrying about my next paycheck."  But on the other hand, I will be glad to get back to a state of normalcy for me.  

Today, Dad drove into town to pick up some odds and ends while I cleaned house.  I got the call for the interview while he was gone so I texted Mom to tell her the good news and planned on telling Dad when he got home.  Turns out he had run into Mom while in town and she relayed the good news.  And never being one to give up a free excuse to celebrate (even though I don't have the job, just an interview), Dad brought home a six pack of Dos Equis (under the guise that we HAD to have beer if we were grilling out).  So, when he got home we puttered around the house doing things like repotting ferns and hanging and refilling bird feeders.  Simple tasks that seem so burdensome and overwhelming when they are added to the laundry list of items that need to be done after working a 40 plus hour work week.  But tasks that if you truly take time to be in the moment with, can be so rewarding and fulfilling.  Then we sat and drank the beer, I grilled (with his supervision), and we enjoyed the beautiful spring Alabama evening on our back porch.  

And now my anxiety has started to dissipate because I'm remembering that life has a way of telling us that everything is going to be ok and all things work out in due time.  I just need to remember to stop and enjoy the simple tasks.  Be in the moment.  Get my hands dirty.  Climb the scary, wobbly ladder.  Drink a beer.  And don't allow worry to consume me.  It is here that I find the real me again.  It is here that I find my true happy.  

I will close by sharing a few pictures from my day:

    

This was after I wondered for a few seconds why the brand new vacuum was not working.

I realized after repotting ferns that I desperately need to cut my nails.  Eww.

No these are not arteries in my arm.  This is what happens when someone who is 5'5" tries to fill a hummingbird feeder that is mounted 6 feet high.   

Kebabs that turned out to be one of the best things I've ever cooked.  Well grilled.  And then again, it might have been the beer.

Speaking of...

Perfect end to a perfect day.

Peace, love, and cheers,

Deborah

Music

Life is full of choices.  Life is full of decisions.  Some good, some bad.  Life is a continuous stream of endings and new beginnings.  We distract ourselves with all the things that allow us to take our minds off of life-tv, movies, books, and music.  By engaging in these activities, it allows our minds to recharge.  To think of something outside of our ruminations.  To give our minds (and ourselves) a break in the monotony of thought patterns that become so tiresome.  

Toniight I am listening to music.  I have been on a Netflix and Hulu binge ever since we got Uverse out here in the sticks (that is the rural area for those unfamiliar with Alabama country slang).  I knew when I couldn't focus on tv any longer it was time to give my brain a break.  And despite the growing stack of magazines on my nightstand and the 6 or 7 books I currently am reading simultaneously (ok so it's more like 3 or 4), I just felt the draw of music in my soul.  I know you all know what I am talking about.  (Unless you are part of the less than 1% of the population that doesn't connect with music.)  I just thought of a song that I wanted to download and one thing led to another and I downloaded about 10 and here I sit, listening and writing.  

Music is just so healing to me (and I'm sure many, many, others).  It gives me time to reflect on things that have happened, things that I would like to happen, and daydream about things that probably won't happen.  A certain song brings up an old memory, another inspires me.  One makes me happy, another one sad.  And on and on it goes.  I can watch tv for so long and I am out like a light (ask any of my family members-who claim I have a form of narcolepsy).  I can read a book until I fall asleep.  However, I can sit in a dark room and listen to music all night and never get tired.  Growing up, I was the oddball child locked in her bedroom learning the poetry of Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix while the rest of the family were in the liviing room glued to the tv.  Guess that explains why some of the best naps I have ever had have been in movie theaters (albeit expensive ones).

A lot has happened this week.  A lot that I don't feel like writing about right now.  Good decisions, bad decisions, scary decisions, things out of my control and things in my control.  But for now, I just want to take a moment to breathe (for what feels like the first time all week), enjoy a glass of wine (or maybe two?-notice that question mark), and allow the healing power of music to take over and fill those holes I was beginning to feel.  I'm sure you can relate.  If you have ever turned up your radio because "that" song came on and it was just what you needed right then, right there, then you know exactly the feeling I am talking about.

So tonight I say cheers to music, the talented people that gift us with it, and the emotion it brings us.  

I hope your Friday is full of hope and happiness.  I hope that you can reflect back on this week and feel a sense of fulfillment and look foward to the weekend with a sense of calm.

Peace and love to you all,

Deborah