Thankful

For the little things, the normal things.  

For a tidy house, clean laundry and leftover spaghetti sauce.  (Thanks, Mom!) 

For evidence of major improvement and clearance to start running again (only five minutes out of every 20, but still...I can run!) 

For an insightful friend who knew exactly when to dial her phone and lay out her personal brand of no-nonsense, practical magic. 

For audiobooks and podcasts.

For text messages that bring sweet stories and photos of those nieces and nephews who hold my heart. 

For saying no when I mean no. 

For saying "hell yes!" when the occasion warrants it. 

For weekends away filled with silly and simple fun. 

For books piled high by the Girl's bed. 

For allowing myself the space and time to figure out my next move.  

For continually reminding myself to tune out distractions and drama and feeling the increase in energy when I do. 

For a coming spring already filling up wth family and friends and travel and fun. 

For letting go of the need to explain myself. 

For my white bedspread and raggedy jeans and blue toenails and hello kitty band aids - all things that speak volumes about how my life looks right now. 

For feeling at home in my own soul and for knowing that it's time to speak gratitude out loud. 

2014 - Year in Review

 I can't believe that 2014 is over.  This year has been full of shifts, changes, and challenges.  While it had some high points, I certainly wouldn't call it my favorite year, and I am more than fine to put it to bed and move on to embracing the clean slate of 2015.  I like to write a "year in review" post, and while I usually use a "what went well/what went wrong" approach, I found that this year was too complex and nuanced to make things fit neatly into those boxes.  So instead, I'm simply summarizing the happenings in some major categories in my life, and calling it a wrap. 
  
Space:  

Space was my word for 2014, and it was something I spent a lot of time thinking about and working on. As we ushered in 2014, I was feeling incredibly claustrophobic in so many ways.  I felt like I had grown out of my life,  and I needed to open up and find some breathing room.  For starters, the condo I owned was getting too small and it was clearly time to move.  I had considered buying a home for a while, and I finally took the plunge this year.  In July, we moved into our new home which was christened "Blue Star Haven" by Riley.  It was a bittersweet time for me; I loved my condo and I loved my friends in that close-knit community, and it was incredibly hard to leave that behind.  But I had lived in my condo for 11 years and it was more than time to move on.  I'm still not 100% sure I'm cut out to be a home-owner, and I have a feeling I'll move on from here sooner rather than later, but for now, we are settling in and enjoying the lovely and peaceful space that Blue Star Haven offers. 

Work:
I'll be honest, I've been debating whether call work a success or label it as "could have been better."  Truth is, it's a little of both.   Ultimately I would choose to lump it as "went well"  because, despite some intense growing pains, I feel like I've really moved forward and succeeded this year.  I dealt with some hard interpersonal issues at work, often felt like I was drowning by the workload, and spent more than a few nights wide awake, trying to figure out what the hell I should do about it all.  While I didn't always make the exact right decision and take the perfect actions, things ultimately worked out well, so I guess we'll count it all as a win?  I guess?  There were some very positive sides, however.  Because I was dealing with issues outside of my comfort zone, I was forced to reach out and ask for help and guidance, and in the process, I found some great teachers who helped me develop more professional confidence and stronger leadership and problem-solving skills.  I learned to not let issues at work define how I felt about myself as a person, and I can honestly say that I'm incredibly proud of the work my team produced this year.  So yes, I'll call it a win.  I'll take that win. 

Family: 
Oh, my family.  Mi Familia.  The most important people in my world fall under this category, and as the year ends, I can be nothing but grateful for each and every one of them.  One highlight of the year was planning and carrying off a surprise 60th birthday party for my Dad without him finding out about it.  He's hard to surprise, but we managed and it was a great time!  My family from California and Alaska were able to travel to Idaho for it, and it meant a lot to everyone to be together.  My sister and her kids spent a couple of weeks with us in Utah in August and some of my nieces came to spend a weekend with me and Riley while their mom was at a church camp in July.    I love having my home filled with my family and friends; it's the best use of the extra space I now have! (Note to my family - please come visit me!)

Friends:
New babies. Weddings.  Divorces.  Loss of loved ones.  Job changes.  New homes.  Graduations.  New careers.  Starting over.  New love.  Book deals.  Letting go.  Health scares.  My friends are part of my everyday life, and I am blessed to have some truly amazing people in my group of friends.  Even though we are all busy with kids, jobs, and the details of day to day living, I am so grateful to have cultivated friendships that are real and honest and meaningful, and to know these people have my back when I need them.  My friends add so much richness and color to my world, and I count myself incredibly lucky to have each and every one of them in my life.  (Note to my friends - please come visit me!)

Travel:
Although it's getting harder and harder to do now that the Girl is in school and we have to adhere to a more strict schedule, Riley and I were able to take some fun trips together this year. Traveling is a priority for me,  I always love the chance to get out and explore the world.  In February, I traveled to NYC to meet up with some friends of mine for a long weekend.  We explored the city, saw another friend open her one woman show off Broadway, ate some delicious food, and then I met up with one of my oldest, dearest friends and spent a day with her and her family in New Jersey before heading home.In April, we traveled to Atlanta to spend Spring Break with our friend and former neighbor who moved there in 2013.  We spent a few days in Atlanta, and then headed out to the Georgia Coast for a few days.  We rounded out the trip with an afternoon in Savannah.  Fun trip, despite being rainy on the coast.   In May, I surprised Riley with a trip to Disneyland, and we had a glorious 5 days of sunny california weather and lots of Disney adventures.  I didn't think I liked Disneyland until that trip - now I know I LOVE it!  I traveled to one of my favorite cities, San Diego, in June for a work conference.  Despite being very sick, I enjoyed the conference and the city, though not as much as I would have if I had been feeling better.  June and July were all about moving into our new home, but In early August, we went to the beautiful state of Wisconsin to attend our dear friends' wedding celebration.  Although one doesn't normally think of Wisconsin as a destination wedding site, it turned out to be the most emotional, love-soaked, touching weddings I've ever been to.  
We followed the wedding with a couple of fun days with friends at their home in Illinois- a lake, boat, kids -- Riley never wanted to leave.  Once school started again, travel halted, but I flew to the Bay Area to see my sister and her kids for Christmas while Riley spent time with her dad in New Orleans.   Although the travel isn't as plentiful as I'd like (I'd love more weekend roadtrips!) it's still something we continue to prioritize.

Health: 
Health-wise, 2014 was a challenging year for me.  It started off ok, but then a super-fun case of pneumonia flattened me for a good part of the year.  It started in early May and took until Mid-July to finally clear up, with residual asthma issues that required an inhaler until late August.  Just when I was feeling like I was getting back on track from that, a back injury in early October left me with serious activity restrictions and required intensive sports medicine and physical therapy for the next 3 months to get back to good.  I'm finally able to work out and lift again, though I'm not supposed to run until at least March, possibly later.  But I can walk, hike, lift weights, swim, bike, and do the elliptical, so I am feeling ok about where I am now.   I've never, ever had any major health issues before (except a rough pregnancy, but that has a definite end date and a positive outcome) and I gotta say, I'm not a fan.  I am grateful, however, for good insurance and talented health care providers and for being on the road to recovery.

Creativity: 
This is an area of my life that suffered in 2014.  Selling our condo, buying a home, moving, work challenges, and health issues all added up and left me feeling like there was not time for much in terms of creating.  I kept up on a few photo projects and did a lot of personal writing, but nothing extraordinary.  Nothing amazing. I was rather absent from this blog.  I didn't sew anything.  I didn't make.  I didn't create.  I didn't take my camera out and about much.  I didn't do much that I really need to do,  and I don't like that at all.  I guess this is one place where a fresh start is very much appreciated.

There's a lot left unsaid here - a lot of personal work was done in 2014 around my own sense of self, what contributions I want to make to the world, my relationship with religion and faith, and breaking down some old stories that needed to be thrown out.  It doesn't need to be rehashed here.  But all of it contributed to times that often felt thick and heavy and while there were some highlights, there were also many dark and scary shadows to walk through.  Now that the year is over, I'm grateful for both the light and the dark and for the dimension they added to my worldview.  And now, as the clock hands spin us closer to 2015, I'm grateful to set all of that behind me, and walk forward with clarity of purpose and a heart that's been broken wide open.  Happy New Year!

Painful lessons. Literally.

Three weeks ago, my back went out.  There was no reason that anyone can discern, and the diagnosis has yet to be made more specific than "pulled muscle with pain."  Which is true enough but doesn't begin to tell whole story.  On Monday after work, I went for a run before picking Riley up from swim practice.  Normal evening, normal sleep.  The next morning, however, I could barely move.  Even deep breathing meant intense and acute pain.  After a bit of teeth grinding and massive amounts of whimpering,  I got it together and was able to get Riley to school and get myself to a doctor to begin figuring out the cause and treatment.  

From that point to today, I've seen several different medical doctors, a chiropractor, a couple of physical therapists, massage therapist, and an acupuncturist.  I've had x-rays, ultrasounds, muscle work, needles stuck in my gallbladder meridian, tiny gold balls glued to my ears at strategic points, and been offered multiple pain pills, muscle relaxers and anti-inflammatories.  I've been given a walking restriction when I refused to take two weeks off to "just go to bed and hope I felt better," and that has since been lifted and replaced with an order for "light activity but not for more than 20 minutes at a time."  Each of these therapies and treatments offered some relief and some healing, and the pain really is getting better, but I'm still hurting a lot, mostly my right leg and foot.  

I'm not writing this for sympathy, quite the opposite. I'm writing this because I feel like there are several lessons I've learned and ways I want to change my own habits in relation to this experience.

One of the most concrete things that his experience has shown me is that I want to be the type of person that offers real, tangible help to those in need.  There have been many offers of assistance, and don't mean to discount any of them because I do truly appreciate the sentiment and I know they were offered with the best of intentions.  Still, I've had a few friends who have stepped in and offered real, practical, incredibly "helpful" help - the kind of help I didn't even think about requesting because I didn't know I needed it.  One lovely lady called and asked if I had everything I needed for Halloween, and when I didn't, she went to Target and picked up candy and a trick or treat bucket for Riley.  Another couple stopped over, picked up my car, a grocery list and my credit card and headed off to fill up my car with gas and pick up some groceries for me.  Both of these acts were so simple and so straightforward, but they were both so needed and so appreciated.  I try to be helpful, but I think that I often offer vague, "let me know what I can do" type of assistance.  I am making a note, from this point forward, to be the person who offers the real, practical, "make-a-difference" type of help.  It matters.

I am also learning a lot about surrender, about not trying to tough it out or muscle through when something hurts.  There have been days when I had no choice but to surrender to the pain because nothing-  NOTHING- touched it.  The most I could do was just go to bed, feel it for what it was and be grateful it was intermittent and there was enough relief that I could take care of my daughter.  I'm learning to surrender to the need for rest, because many days I am exhausted by 8:30 pm and can't do
much but head to bed early.  I'm learning to accept that some days, I am going to accomplish less than usual at work, because physical therapy and doctors appointments take a large amount of time and I have a limited amount of that available each day.  I'm even starting to surrender to the humor in the whole experience, like when the senior citizens brush past me when I'm walking too slow, hurrumphing their irritation with my impaired gait or when the PT aide, in all seriousness, suggests pregnancy as way to help loosen up my muscles and joints.  But most of all, I'm learning to surrender my own expectations of how a situation should look or feel or be, and instead just trying to open up to whatever the moment brings.  These have been hard, hard lessons to learn. 

Try as I might, I can't bring myself to be grateful for this mysterious, random pain.  I'm not thrilled that it's happening and I'm really not happy it's taking so long to heal.  But I do believe in trying to find the lessons in the hard times, and I think this experience is proving to be am important teacher.  I'm getting stronger and feeling better each day, but I really, truly hope that there aren't more lessons I'm supposed to learn from this, because I'd like to move on to the normal, active life I love. 

Changing Perspective

Change has been a constant theme in my world for the past several months.  I've known for a while that my life needed some big shifts and I've done the work to bring them into reality.  Real estate has been bought and sold.  A different car now sits in my garage.  Some friendships have been deepened and strengthened and others have been been let go.  Priorities have been examined and altered, and big, tall, wide boundaries have been drawn to weed out as much drama and negativity as possible.   I've spent countless hours dismantling a belief structure I was born into to test the various parts for stability and resonance, and now I am steadily working to rebuild what works into a structure that makes room for the parts of me that don't fit into the box while keeping the pieces I love and cherish in the overall design.  I've purged some things and brought in others.  Good hell, I even own not one, but TWO, pairs of skinny jeans.  In some ways, I don't recognize this version of myself, and I mean that in a very good way.  The changes I'm working on making are turning me into a more authentic, more genuine version of myself.  This version might not be as patient with drama, or as willing to say yes when she means no, or as accepting of people who play the victim in their own self-created circumstance (this has been absolutely intolerable for me lately) but this version of me is more authentic, more open and is living closer to my truth than I have been for a while.  Basically, I like where these changes are taking me. 

Here's the strange truth about this self directed campaign of change:   I don't actually like change.  I like ease.  I like calm.  I like routine.  Sure, I like the occasional adventure to a new place or an impromptu roadtrip, but these are exceptions to the rule.  Throwing myself into the types of changes I've been making are almost always the exact opposite of ease and calm and routine, but I am enough of a Pinterest addict to know that sometimes, you have to do what you don't want to do to get what you want to get.  Or maybe that's from Rocky?  I don't know.  The point is still valid. 

None of this has been an easy process, but there has been a certain flow about it that keeps me moving forward, even when I want to push against the flow,  or turn and run like Satan himself was chasing me. 

There are still some big changes I am working to bring into reality, and I've noticed that sometimes, when I think about these kinds of big shifts, I start trying to talk myself out of them.  I hear the old taped loops of "nice girls don't..." or "be careful what you wish for...." or "you don't deserve ..." and I have to make a full and concerted effort to stop those stories where they are and tell myself the new and improved truth.  It's a constant, daily effort. 

Today, when those stories were rearing their ugly heads, I took a walk outside my office, hoping that a shift in scenery would bring about a shift in perspective.  I walked up and down the sidewalk pictured above, and I really focused on the clear blue sky and the leaves crunching under my feet.  The autumn air was cool and crisp, but the sun warmed my shoulders and hair, and I sat for a minute and simply brought my attention to the trees, resplendent in a wash of hazy gold.  After a few minutes of breath work, I felt better.  I snapped a quick pic of the gorgeous October afternoon, and I walked inside to resume my workday.

As I flipped through my phone tonight, I landed on that photo and thought about the big and intimidating changes I'm still working towards.  And then I realized that the entire beauty of the afternoon was brought to me by the process of change.  The leaves had changed from their simple spring green to the dreamy coppers and golds on display today.  The air was refreshingly chilly because the the seasons had changed from summer to fall.   Even the sun was warm on my face instead of high above and blocked by the trees because the change in seasons meant a change of the suns angle.  The earth doesn't fight change, but simply embraces it, lets it work it's magic, and in turn, change makes her shine. 

There's a big metaphor in this story for me.  Maybe there's one for you too?

(I will try to) Fix You

I've realized that I do a lot of fixing.

At home, I fix breakfast.
I fix what hurts.
I fix hair into high ponytails and intricate french braids.
I may not fix the backwards D or misplaced comma myself, but I damn well stand over her shoulder until she fixes it.  
I have been known to take an appliance apart and spread the parts out on the floor until I can find the way to fix whatever ails it. 

I fix things. It's what I do. 

At work, I fix problems.  My title may sound fancy and academic, but basically I fix problems when they come up.  And they always come up.
Sometimes I fix money.
Sometimes I fix projects that have gone awry or are headed in that direction.
Sometimes I fix a colleague, mop them up,  put them back together because, after all, that's my job.

I fix things.  It's what I do.

I fix the people I love.  I help them examine their situations, offer new insight and sometimes I even walk them directly into the answers they are searching for when they can't seem to find them on their way. 
Sometimes I fix the people I don't love.
Sometimes I fix the people I don't even like.  
Today I found myself outlining a four step solution for a problem that had nothing to do with me for a woman I actively and honestly dislike.  She asked me because she knew I'd have a solution.  Because I fix things.  It's what I do.

I don't mind being the fixer.  I usually find great satisfaction in finding a solution that works and in using my analytic and intuitive mind (because yes, I am both analytic and intuitive) to help others live their best life.  I like finding the answer.  I like solving the problem.  I like finding ways to make the pieces fit.

I like fixing things. It's what I do.  And I'm damn good at it.

And yet, on nights like tonight, when I am exhausted from a day (ok, let's be honest, from weeks and weeks and weeks) of fixing hair, fixing breakfast, fixing problems that I created and fixing ones that I didn't, fixing errors, fixing a smile on my face and fixing to get yet another thing done.....

On nights like tonight, i can't help but wonder if maybe I'm going about this all wrong. 

I know I can't fix everything, so maybe I should not try to fix anything. 
Maybe some problems are best solved by leaving them on the ground until they are ground to dust by so many heels trampling thoughtlessly across them.
Maybe leading the people I love into answers deprives them of the experiences of failing and trying again.
Maybe insisting she fix her backwards D only solves the problem on this go-around and tomorrow it will be Bog instead of Dog, yet again. Maybe there is a bigger problem to solve here.
Maybe my time and attention and considerable efforts would be better spent on fixing me, rather than you. 
Maybe there is truth in the tension and maybe there is beauty in the broken pieces.
Maybe the way is to only fix what truly needs to be fixed, to fix only what is truly mine, and let the rest just....rest.

This feels so little and big, all at once.  This feels like some cosmic lesson I am given to learn over and over again.
Maybe the answer really isn't about fixing at all, but instead about enjoying the cracked open parts that, as Leohard Cohen so famously puts it, let in the light.

What I want to tell you about 5th and G

I want to tell you so much about this beautiful space, now that I've said goodbye and moved on.  I want to tell you how it held me through some of my darkest trials, it's walls providing refuge from the storms I faced outside.  I want to tell you how I learned about my own unexpected talents and strength through my efforts in making it beautiful; how my hands placed the floor boards and the tile, how my arms and shoulders ached after scraping and patching and repairing the walls and ceilings.  I want to tell you how the colors on the walls reflected so much of what was in my heart at the time - red when I was aching and bleeding.  Yellow when I'd spun into crazy happiness and a type of manic joy. Blue when a peaceful calm had seeped and spread it's way into my soul.

I want to tell you how the walls held my daughter's laughter and the sounds of new friendships being born.  I want to tell you how those happy sounds chased away the heartache that was held there.  I want to tell you how I opened my windows every night, no matter how cold or hot the outside temperature, because bringing the outside in felt critical to my comfort.  I want to tell you how much I grew to love some of the people who lived around me, their friendships crossing boundaries into family.  I want to tell you how those bonds are still strong, long after we've all moved in different directions.

I want to tell you how I loved to watch the morning light spread over and around the various rooms.  I want to tell you how I will always picture my sweet dog wandering through the house, chasing that light so he could lie down and sleep in the sun.  I want to tell you how many nights the dark held a kind of refuge for me, a place where I could finally, finally give in to whatever emotion had been too long inside - worry, anger, grief or when I simply needed the oblivion that sleep would bring.  I want to tell you that I loved there, I laughed there,  I ached there.   I danced there, I cried there, I grew there.  I was broken open and I healed there.  I lived there.  And I loved living there.

I want to tell you that although I loved living there, when it was time to go, the Universe moved me along in a hurry.  I want to tell you that the perfect home showed up for me and my Girl almost immediately, and despite the hurried move and a couple of minor inconveniences, everything pretty much fell into place in exactly the time and way it needed to.  I want to tell you that I left our 5th and G home with no strings to hold my heart there, no regrets and no reason for any wishing or wanting.  I want to tell you that I got what I needed there, and when our time there was done,  I was ready to find our next home.  I want to tell you that when the time came, I moved on in simple and very sweet gratitude for the comfort, the peace and the home it was for us and excitement for our new place to be in this world. 

Last day at 5th and G.  Leaving with the peace that came after saying "thank you."

Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

The day before my Dad's birthday party (Mid May), I started to feel sorta under the weather.  Nothing major, just a bug.  Then it got worse.  Coughing, fever, chest congestion.  After a week, it required antibiotics.  After two weeks, it became apparent that it required different antibiotics.  My doctor actually wrote "The mother of all sinus infections" on my medical record as a diagnosis the second time I went in to see him.  Awesome.  A few days later, my doc added "in-office"breathing treatments, a steroid and an inhaler to the mix because the coughing was making my breathing wheezy and labored.  Not so fun.  And when I was heading out of town for work and knew I'd be kid free and able to get four really good nights of sleep, he added a strong nighttime cough medicine in hopes that some solid zzzzz's would help knock this out.  (and oh, did I enjoy those drugged up, out cold nights!)  It's been another two weeks, and the antibiotics and steroid are finished.  I'm still using the inhaler more than I'd like, and I'm still coughing a lot.  I'm still wiped out easily and early.  I'm better - much, much better than I was -  but i'm still not feeling great.

Suffice it to say, it's not been a whole lot of fun. 

 I wrote today in my morning pages about just how fed up I am with being sick and tired.  It's interesting to me that, during all of this, I've only missed a couple of days of work.  I still took my daughter to Disneyland and had a dang good time doing it!  I still completed a trip to San Diego for a work conference.  I've still cleaned my house and folded laundry and handled all the things that single mama hood throws into the mix.  I'm not trying to claim superhero status - all of these things needed to be done and so I did them - sometimes you have to just push through.  And oh yes - forgot to mention - on top all this off,  I've also been dealing with the sale of my condo and purchasing a new house during the last month as well.  So yeah...it's been a crazy, fun, eventful, exhausting month even without the added burden of a lingering illness.  And so yeah...I'm ready to be done feeling sick and tired.  

Part of my reflective journaling while recovering from this has been about knowing what other little things are showing up in my life and stealing my focus and energy, and how am I handling them?  Do I ignore them and hope they'll go away, while I continue to try to do all the things that have to be done?  Or do I do a good job of investigating and understanding them and taking time out to deal before some wicked combination of issues becomes critical and requires major intervention.  I wish I could say that it's the latter, but my default mode is to keep going and keep doing until I just can't anymore.  It's a sticky balance to find, because I really don't believe in dropping everything and going to bed when things aren't going right.  I do believe that a sense or order and structure are helpful for me to feel good about how my life is going.  I do think that a clean house -not perfection, but clean dishes, floors and laundry- is as important as brushing your teeth.  Still,  this past month has been teaching me a great big lesson in the importance of self care and the need to build in some room for recovery and rest. 

For me, this is part of authentic living - knowing yourself well enough to know where that balance is.  What must be done and what can wait?  What is necessary and what is "nice to do?"  What is self care and what is selfish?  I'm still working through those details for myself and trying to find some basic guidelines, but one things is for certain - I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.  I can't do this again.