To feel or not to feel that is question.

Why do people always say ( in response to a situation) if you are angry, sad, etc . that you are "choosing" to feel that way. Well of course you are- no one but you feels the way that you feel. But choosing to feel a certain way does not exactly mean that you are "in charge" of preventing yourself from naturally feeling the feelings accompanied by that emotion. I guess one does have control over what they do what their feelings rather then control over feeling them.

I mean think about this- Do you ever hear someone at a funeral say, God your a choosing to feel grief? The automatic understanding is that someone will rightfully feel grief- and that they are entitled.The choice and dysfunctionality comes with not the feeling but how we let that feeling effect us. What devastates one person may not even make another flinch.We should be empathetic to those that are devistated and those that stand their ground.

Sound of Silence

I long for the hours when I can be alone in silence, no screaming children, no barking dog, no ringing phone. I live for those moments, in those moments I feel like I will be renewed and refreshed - but then it hits me. In the silence and reality of those moments is when I hear myself. I listen to the beating of my own heart, the churning of my own stomach. I feel the tears role down my cheek and the voice in my head that tells me to get a grip and the other voice in my head that tells me to go ahead and let it out- let it go. Today as I listened to that second voice I prayed for that the feeling that I sometimes have, the feeling that someone is with me, that someone is holding my hand- I prayed for that feeling to come, that someone to come because the reality, the emptiness and the loneliness was all that reached out for me- and I let it embrace me.The fear of it doing more than that, the fear of fear swallowing me whole made me tremble and lose my breath.It ( Fear) being just one of many things that overwhelm me these days.

Overwhelmed is an encompassing word- It verbally illustrates, anxiety, depression,despair, emptiness, loneliness and partial defeat.

Truth Be Told......

The truth is consistently accurate but inconsistently comfortable.I rather be overwhelmed by the discomfort of the truth than to live with the comfortable limitations of half truths. I am overwhelmed on a daily basis by this life's tragedies and blessings - I am humbled most by the people who speak the truth no matter if they are given a blessing or handed a tragedy.The truth is not what is handed down to us in a didactic approach or through well organized text. Truth is not often found in textbooks or letters preceding or following a person's surname.The truth about the truth is that it is waiting to be expressed in each of us. I believe when we spend time with people- when we really come to know them- when we take in their whole story-is when we expose their truth and by listening to them, not judging them- that we expose our own truth about who we are.

Work in progress.......

Tomorrow I have a second interview (usually a good sign) for the job that I have always wanted to do, the job that I feel I am called to do, the job I feel in a sense will fill a longing to be true to that which completes me on a professional level. As I sat in a therapy secession last Friday my therapist challenged me to explore the anxiety and fear related to "something good" happening to me. Something good , being this job offer that would not only help my family out financially but should also extinguish a burning desire to do this type of nursing. I know in my soul ( the dungeon of insecurity) the answers are clearly there to this fear and many more.

It is insanely simple- no need for paragraphs upon paragraphs of pros. It comes down to the old"waiting for the next shoe to drop". I am not sure when it was that my cognition became so distorted and negative- it just is. I have spent years in therapy trying to change it- aware that is is something that I and I alone must do. So fear of what you may ask? Fear of not being good enough, fear of failing, fear of ....the list goes on but the biggest thing that stands in my way is fear of being happy. I cannot remember when the last time that feeling happy did not bring on a sense of dread and feeling like the happy feelings were temporary and fleeting.Guess I am weak- because most of the time I rather o without happiness that to have it snatched from me.I should know that happiness is a state of mind that you create for yourself- it is independent of natural disaster and betrayal. If you have allowed yourself to be happy once- I believe that you can return to it. Part of having something good happen to you is believing that you are worthy of it- that you deserve it, hat you may have earned it. Having something good happen to you- should be just that. I am fearful that I have placed a lot in getting this job. I think to myself- what if I get this job and it is not what I imagined- or I am not what I imagined in it.What scares me is that this job nor anything else should be solely responsible for my happiness or self worth. I should be worth more than that.

I want this job because for many selfish reasons.I feel less helpless when I a helping and empowering other people. I feel less fearful of my own mortality when I can help others face their death with comfort and dignity. I just want to make an impact on the world- lend my service and heart to others who need the littlest of things. That makes me feel whole, complete and powerful. I want to find a place (maybe that's a job- maybe not) that I can face myself everyday with a little more self respect.

Well I feel like I am not completing the assignment.....Happiness ( as I imagine it) scares the hell out of me. I am sure that when someone is happy they are comfortable. I have a great deal of things that make me happy- but to say that I am is too much for me. To admit and know happiness would be to not fear anything- and fear is so much an overwhelming part of me. I am scared that things that make me happy will be taken from me. I am afraid of loss. Very interesting that I would be in a professional specialty where loss is part of a shift to shift thing. I guess I landed in the hospice field as an implosion therapy.

Hospice care teaches you 1. how to live your life to the fullest, 2.how to let go of all that weights you down and holds you back, 3. teaches you how to be happy with yourself when you look in the mirror of mortality.

I have been looking for some spiritual guidance.Some visit from and wise angelic who will lead me in the right direction. I am learning that my own voice can serve as a guide - I just have to trust it and most of all not fear it.

He always says"Anything worth having is worth fighting for"

My husband Brian does not write often. He does not write letters, checks, or simple post it notes. I mean him no disrespect when I say his penmanship is illegible, he cannot spell worth a lick (neither can I) and his grammatical ability is probably that of a first grader. Because of these few shortcomings he often does not write anything down in front of anyone-only for himself to see and even that looks like a blind, left handed Parkinson's patient wrote it. I tell of his handicap not to disrespect or embarrass him in any way - but moreover to dry home the message of my post.

Since I found out that Brian would be leaving in November for a year to go to Iraq with the Marine Corps- I have been flirting with a shock and anticipatory grief. I guess I am one of those people that attempts to digest the thickest part of the meet before actually eating it (impossible to do). I have never struggled to understand Brian. I know him so well I feel like I have known him all my life. Our first date we sat in the same booth for over five hours and talked- we never ever stoped talking from that moment on. Our relationship has been one long conversation.

Brian and I frequently talk about the reasons why he feels an "obligation " as an American and a United States Marine to make a contribution to the "war on terror" and to contribute to the liberation of the Iraqi people. I don't believe that we talk about it to help me to cope with the reality because I have always known this to be the truth about what he wanted to do with his life. I believe that we talk about it cause I want him to know that I get him. That I love him unconditionally and I rather live scared sleepless than to have him forfeit something he feels he must do. Some people have a hard time with this idea. Some don't support the war and some might say he has done his time and he should enjoy the rich life he has made for himself. I stand always in the same place- along side him in whatever he wants to do (like it or not).

One of the shear beautiful things about Brian is that he is an outstanding human being- he doesn't even know this about himself. I knew it from the moment we met.

Brian has a cabinet that is set aside in the kitchen for all the personal junk he takes off him when he gets home at night ( wallet, cell phone, money, notes etc). The other night I was cleaning it and I came across one of his field journals. It is and canvass olive drab book - the size of a novel. On its cover is a hand drawn devil, skull and an amtrac (Brian cant write but he can draw well). I have seen it before and know it to be blank inside. I removed it from the cabinet and thought - well he isn't using this -its blank I will put it upstairs. As I placed it on a pile of items that were destined for someplace other than the cabinet- it fell to the ground. In mid air I saw all the blank pages fall open like an accordion as it fell to the ground. Blank pages-two hundred ed or so blank pages- except for the last page. There was about two small sentences written at the top of the page. I brought it closer to my face - it looked like Brian's distinct penmanship- but everything was spelt right and neat. The writing was so neat it got my attention more than the message- clearly his life must depend on this legibly written message. Clearly a quote from someone else:

"It is better to die on you feet than live on your knees"

A blank book with one solitary message. This made sense to me.Sweet irony. This is Brian-take what you are given although it may not be much and make something out of it.Don't spend your time miserable- you have plenty of time to miserable when your dead. Kill or be killed. You are what you make of yourself. A type of mind over matter: if you don't mind it don't matter. I read this quote and I thought - this is him.This is what he is about. I am sure that this quote means many things to him. I think Brian spent much of his youth and adolescents living on his knees-unable to rise up against the negativity that others had against him. I wager to say that when he was a kid he probably thought he would never be strong enough to stand on his own two feet. The Marine Corps made him believe that one didn't need a leg to stand on when one had their pride and honor.

It is now 2008- 12 years in the Marine Corps (or the suck as they call it) and he is ready to "die on his feet". He is a true American, a die hard jar head and the most unselfish human being I know. I hate to think of what this year will be like for him. Lack of sleep, stifling heat in loaded down uniform, the risk of being emotionally/mentally wounded, all the comforts of home gone.
Missing out on all that you have worked so hard to build.................

Brian's dad was a Marine and Vietnam. He had a plaque which was given to Brian when he died- it used to hang in our den- I am not sure where it is now but it said, "The more you sweat in peace, the less you bleed in war".........I have been alone the last five nights as Brian is away on training with the Marine corps. In June they train for three weeks straight. 5 nights, 3 weeks, one year long deployment after 9-11 and 12 years in the Marine Corps..........I am holding on to what that plaque says.....

What does this mean.....

If I could play piano like a world renown pianist- I would enter a large room with dramatic drapery and dimmed light. A shiny black grand piano in the center of the room. My hands would allow my fingers to comfortably rest upon the keys as if it were their home. An uncomplicated row of keys played slowly till the spirit moved them into a passionate concerto. An arrangement played from the heart with an ending rendering a great sense of expression and accomplishment.

If I were to dance like a prima ballerina I would lace my steal toes and glide across the hard wood with grace and choreographed preciseness. I would receptively spin finding comfort in each predictable turn and peace in weightlessness of my feet and soul.

If I were an accomplished gymnast I would walk the straight beam with strength and confidence- I would communicate my presence in flips and fast passes while gracefully remaining upright only to make a powerful calculated dismount.

Searching for a piano to pull up to , a floor to glide across a beam to back flip off of....
A way to express what lies within a song, within a dance, within a dismount.

Favorite commercial

My favorite commercial on TV is the AT &T commercial. The one where the daughter gives her dad a little monkey to take with him on his business trips and then he photographs it in everyplace that he goes.The music is perfect a sweet endearing song and the end when the dad comes home you can see the relief in her face as she hugs her daddy. This commerical does many things for me- it reminds me of Brian's sweet relationship with his children, it reminds me of all the times I wanted to be with my dad but couldn't , the end where i shows te daughters face as she latches on to her father reminds me of every night when I hug Brian when he comes home.
The realistic but negative parts of my mind play a more cynical picture of a father that has a less glamorous job than this dad in the commercial. What if the father in the commercial is a policeman at the scene of a murder, or a solider in battle, or a an undertaker? I suppose you all are like - You sick ticket....but that it what makes this such a sweet untouchable commercial. I always think how would there be room for this kind of sentiment in jobs where you absolutely need to leave your personal life and love ones at home.....

Brian does not wear his wedding ring much anymore-in his police work the inmates use it as leverage to talk smack and in the military their is risk for injury from equipment. Brian always says there is a time and a place to let your mind and heart feel your family-but much of his military and police career does not allow for that. I understand this.....But how do i make my children understand this during deployments and overtime?

in any event look for this comercial, disregard my doomsday approach and just enjoy it cause i absolutely love TV cause of this commercial-and the Dr.g medical examiner.

Wide open spaces

Dear Kristen-I grew up in you neck of the woods-and could not wait to escape. I have not been back in years. I am wondering, how do you feel about where you are living. Not about your house, but about your geographic location. If you cold live anywhere else-where would it be?Peace.
Amy


Amy-
"My neck of the woods"? Rural Albany County is not my neck of the woods, nor my husband Brian's.We both grew up in Albany-me in a nicer section than B. People always say they are one or the other-a country person or a city person. I am more of a "home" is wherever my family is. I must say though that I have more hillbillie in me than the average.....I like country music, I drive on the lawn, my nearest neighbor on my street is more than a half a mile down the road, I live closer to a tavern than a gas station, and i have no problem going to Stewart's in my pj's. No really I enjoy where we live because there is no loud highway, no cop sirens or loud fire engines. My front lawn is lit up by the fullest of moons and the star filled sky. When I look up at night out the big windows above my front door feel embraced by nature and the silence. I look at the back door at a doe or a fox - I become more interested about their day that the gossip of a city neighborhood. I love getting my children out of the car and knowing that it will be a good ten minutes before they hit road.I love everything about living out here. I think people who live in this sort of community are like me....they would give you the shirt off their back- they just need space to live.....where did you live?

A moment on the lips , and inch on the hips

quikast has left a new comment on your post "help": which do you prefer...entenmann's or freihoffer's chocolate covered donuts?

Hmmmmmm, knowing you as well as I do I know that you are a gigundo chocolate lover- however I on the other hand am not. Plus it is not nice to engage me in conversation about sweets when I am trying to cut back. I know not of these chocolate donuts that you speak of. I know of the kind that are soaked in chocolate with yellow donut inside.I Love freihoffer's classic old fashion choc chip cookies but has to be in the brown box not white.As for entenmann's- i think of their choc cake with white frosting and cakelike sprinkles in frosting.REminds me of my grandmother Kay.

All time favorite sweets:
spice cake, cinnomin red bears