Water off a Duck's Back

Two days before Christmas. I read a quote today that seems to sum it up for me: "To perceive Christmas through its wrappings becomes more difficult with every year." (E.B. White) There is a certain pressure to be happy and joyous, and yet it isn't always easy to conjure up those emotions.

No one needs to remind me of all that I have to be grateful for, as I am very aware. I have a good, safe, comfortable home, a steady job that I enjoy and that pays me well enough, I have a terrific almost-15-year-old daughter that continually reminds me of how much she loves me and thinks I'm 'the best', and I have wonderful friendships, old and new. And yet I'm troubled by the fact that a few of those friendships have fallen by the wayside, and largely due to misunderstandings and/or a difference in how to approach the situations life presents us. One's judgments and opinions are only as good as the life experience and perception that they bring to the table at any given moment, and yet relationships are ruined based on that narrow point of view. Despite attempts on my part to bridge the gap, there are a couple of friends who prefer to remain on the fringe.

Of course, this brings me back to the key component of The Four Agreements -- Don't take things personally. It's time to let it go, release whatever ick I'm feeling, and shake it off. No, I'm not a duck, so it won't be as simple as water off the back. But for my own sake, I need to know that I have done what I could and, as long as I can be honest with myself about my intention and attempts, forgive myself and move on.

So, come on Christmas. I embrace the ideas of peace and fellowship of the season, and remain optimistic for the good that will come in the new year. Blessings to all.

Moving through the Melancholy

It's a time of reflection, Thanksgiving...at least for me. When Rebecca was in the first grade (so, eight years ago), she was home sick and missed a trip to Graves' Mountain. We decided to make that up for her and check it out, and so went for a weekend. That trip began an annual tradition, although we moved it up to Thanksgiving so that we could enjoy the abundance of the buffet spread (if you get there in time for lunch and spend the night, you get to enjoy it twice!)...truly some of the best fried oysters I've ever had, country ham, homemade biscuits and apple butter, and so much more.

Anyhow, it was during one of these trips for Thanksgiving I experienced my third miscarriage. It started early in the week, but since we'd made our plans we decided to go ahead. By now I knew all the signs, so it was just a matter of letting nature take its course. But it was a tough weekend, immersed in pain and sadness during a time that should be about gratitude and appreciation for the good things in our lives. And yet, I was able to spend the majority of my time that weekend (thanks to Karl spending time with Rebecca so I could have some solitude) sitting quietly and just absorbing the energy of those around me. It ended up being the best possible thing for me, to be around people but not necessarily have to interact with them.

Nonetheless, every year at this time I find myself feeling a bit melancholy. It usually takes me a while to figure out what's 'wrong', and then it comes back to me. This third miscarriage was my last attempt at trying to have more children, and so I imagine that the finality of that has stuck with me through the years. While I realize that, given what happened over the ensuing years with the end of my marriage, I suppose things do happen for a reason, it is still a difficult time of year. This feeling is compounded by reflection on my life as it is today, having been divorced for six years, middle-aged, and a single mom. Generally I don't dwell on the prospect of aging alone, but at this time of year it all seems to settle around me and it can weigh on me pretty heavily.

So, Rebecca and I are headed to the mountains. We will spend four days and three nights at The Mountain, a Unitarian Universalist retreat center near Highlands, NC. We will be around people but will be free to interact or enjoy solitude as we need to. I hope to get some good hikes in and just enjoy the area and the peace of the surrounding scenery. It will be good for my soul and my psyche, and I am grateful for the opportunity to take this time.

Meanwhile, I realize how much I have to be grateful for, with a loving family, good friends, all the necessities of life as well as a few luxuries, and the good sense to take care of me. It's been a big year for me emotionally, and I am happy to say that I see the year ending in a positive and joyful way, with the knowledge that I have exactly what I need in life already.

Accepting the Gift

A very dear, sweet soul was lost to us yesterday. Nancy Gilmore lost her battle with cancer of the esophagus, leaving grieving friends and family. Nancy truly was one of the kindest and gentlest people I've known, full of love and had the sweetest voice. She will be sadly missed.

As I contemplate turning 50, I am struck be the timing of life and death events. When someone dies so young and had so much left to give, it is cause for reflection and assessment. I remember when my daughter was due to be born, and my cousin of only 24 lost his battle with cancer. Rebecca was born a few days later. Death and life. I remember when my mother's father died, and the day after I went to school and felt bewildered over the beauty of the fall day in spite of the loss.

And yet I also understand, those who go before us would want us to live fully and to surround ourselves with those we love and who love us. So it is with this thought in mind that I look forward to celebrating my 50th birthday with so many people that I love. I will hold Nancy and her family close in my thoughts and in my heart. And I will celebrate living, because every day truly is a gift, and I accept it with an open and loving heart.

Never Again...?

Rock and Roll Half Marathon Virginia Beach, check. Yup, did it, and did it pretty well, for having hardly trained at all. What a tremendous experience! One of 20,000 who registered to run or walk 13.1 miles from the convention center, over rudee inlet, down General Booth Blvd., through Camp Pendleton, and finishing up on the boardwalk, all the while with residents, cheerleaders, and bands to motivate us, and hundreds of volunteers ready with water, Cytomax, and encouragement pushing us on.

My sense of dread on Saturday just kept building, realizing I hadn't trained near as much as I'd hoped. But the goal had all along been nothing more than to finish and finish uninjured. I would run as much as I could, but listen to my body.

We had eleven folks staying at the house that our friend Chris so generously rented. We all got checked in and enjoyed some of the expo shopping, got a little beach time in, and then enjoyed a spaghetti dinner complete with two delicious salads and yummy bread. A nice walk on the beach under a full moon completed the night. We could hear the music until about 11, and then all got quiet. And I couldn't sleep. All told I may have gotten 2 1/2 hours. I was up at 5:30 and ready to go by 6. We all walked over to the start of the race, and then waited for over 30 minutes as each group of runners started.

Each group (or corral) is staged based on their estimated finish time. Many folks move into different corrals once they get there, based on how they feel and how they've prepared. I was placed in corral 18, but moved myself back to 22. I was not feeling as optimistic as I had been in April.

Finally our corral was off. My friend Amy stuck with me during the entire race, and I am so grateful. She let me set the pace, walked when I walked, ran when I ran, and doesn't like to talk while running...just the perfect race support buddy! The first six miles we mostly ran, with some walking interspersed for recovery and stretching. Even the Rudee Inlet bridge wasn't near as troublesome as I thought it would be. Miles 7 and 8 we mostly walked. This was on Camp Pendleton and was mostly in the sun. The distance between mile markers started to feel longer and longer, so by the time we reached mile 10 I was really losing my enthusiasm. We had allowed ourselves to think we might finish in three hours (and Amy could have) but the last four miles killed that for me. I've heard it said and now believe it to be true, each of those last miles seems longer than the last! Finally, with about 3/4 of a mile to go, Amy sprinted to the finish. I began jogging again, feet burning and lower back aching, and the strains of Tom Petty's "Mary Jane" reaching me from the finish line. I really was going to finish this, I realized!

Crossing the finish line was a bit anticlimactic, but it was enough to get that bottle of water and a medal around my neck...I had done it! I found Amy again, she congratulated me, and we walked to the family area to meet some of the rest of our housemates. We listened to the music for a while (one of the better bands that I heard, Vinyl Headlights) and then headed back toward the beach house. Along the way a church group had set up for free foot wash/massages, so we stopped for that. What a welcome treat that was. Finally, we arrived back at the house to the cheers of the remainder of the group. We sat and received more foot massages from our race support team member (she didn't run, but she cheered and had snacks and rubbed our feet!) and talked about our experiences from the day. All in all, an unforgettable triumph for me. I am so glad I did it. And even though I kept saying yesterday, "Never again!", I find myself now thinking, "What if I actually trained? I could do the Marine Corps Historic Half, couldn't I?" Somebody, slap me!

20 years ago

20 years ago, I was reconsidering the course of my life. I wasn't happy with my salary, I wasn't happy with my love life, and I was feeling the need for some change.

I had moved back to Norfolk from Houston, a little over a year after my father died and we settled his 'estate' (paid off the bills, sold the house, sold the boat, split up the stuff...) I was working in a law office, and while I made good friends there, I never cared for the stuffy environment as compared to the "we're all in this together" style of working that I had experienced in Houston. I was working a lot of overtime. I had a cute little duplex near the Chesapeake Bay and a dog and a cat.

One of the things I considered at this time was moving to DC and working with some attorneys that I had known in Houston. They took me to lunch, and I scouted possible areas to live based on an estimated salary for a legal secretary in DC. While I was intrigued at the possibility of working with these guys (we all got along great), the DC life didn't appeal. I'd just left a big city and while it was fun for a while, I was over it.

So, I declined that opportunity. Then I briefly considered the military, as a way of getting an education. I distinctly remember talking to my mother about this, along with her tips on changing my diet to lower my cholesterol (my father had died in '86, massive heart attack.)

But a few days later I was asked by a co-worker if I would be willing to go on a blind date. Her husband had three buddies who wanted dates for the Hawkeye Ball. The Hawkeye is the E2C, the "eyes" of the aircraft carrier, first planes out, last retrieved. The guys were getting home from a six month cruise the day of the ball. And that's how I met my future husband. And why I didn't join the military. (Really, I considered that...?!)

This comes up because Rebecca recently asked how I'd met her dad. And it had dawned on me earlier this summer, that was 20 years ago. It is incredible to me that so much time has passed. And Rebecca has asked me, "Are you sorry you married Daddy?" Well of course not. We shared some real adventures together, and have a beautiful and loving daughter who is well on her way to becoming a pretty amazing young adult.

It all leads us to where we are now. No regrets. But wow, 20 years ago...

Summer of Love

This will probably read more like a rambling than a coherent blog post.

Just a coincidence that this year marks the 40th anniverary of the quintessential lovefest, Woodstock. Didn't make sense to struggle with something so insignificant as the title of this blog post, so there it is.

Feeling very alive lately. Nerves right at the top of my skin. Awareness heightened to a ridiculous level: words mean more, music affects me more profoundly, and tears come more easily. My heart feels very open right now. And on top of all of this, I feel calm. Peaceful. Nothing significant has happened. I noticed a difference earlier in the summer, like I'd turned some kind of emotional corner. Hard to explain, but the feeling has held in any case. And yes, this does sound a lot like the "twitterpated" feeling discussed in the spring. I suppose in a way that's what this is, but more twitterpated with life, living, and love (not the sappy stuff, the real stuff, the enduring love of real connections...)

I do know this: I have connected and reconnected with so many extraordinary people and friends over the summer.

SUUSI, of course, is always an experience in connections. No need to go into that again, but it definitely grounded me and gave me a renewed sense of self.

The reunion in Norfolk was almost magical. Friends and acquaintances I hadn't seen in over 30 years, all together for a weekend at a beach house. We exchanged stories, memories, joys and sorrows. We came together from all the different places we'd been scattered, both geographically and in our life's journeys; we have different political views, different religious backgrounds, and yet we enjoyed food, drink, music and dancing, and came away with a renewed sense of where we come from and a deeper connection to each other. Now there is talk of making this an annual event. I hope so.

And at home, in our little town, it seems that some fences are being mended, and misunderstandings forgiven. There have been many occasions for deep connections and strengthening of friendships. Even the most cynical among us has felt the love. I can't attribute it to anything specific. But I do know that it makes me happy. I have friends in my life who 'get' me, and that is priceless. They recognize things in me that I forget, and they remind me. They gently encourage me to be kinder to myself, to love myself. And I am so very grateful.

And I know, the one constant in our lives is change. Impermanance. Nothing lasts forever. I'm about to turn 50. Not sure what the future holds. All the more reason, then, to embrace the now. My heart is open, my mind is open, and nothing really matters but right now.

My Summer Vacation

The dog days of summer have arrived. This area has been blessed with great weather this summer, so we were bound to pay eventually. Fortunately, the weather stayed amazingly nice through our vacation at SUUSI (Southeast Unitarian Universalist Summer Institute) at Radford. It was downright chilly at night, my three hikes were all very comfortable, and when it did rain it was brief and welcome.

This was our second year at SUUSI. It was our first staying in separate dorms, and I have to say, I am very proud of Rebecca. Even though she had a 1 a.m. curfew and most of her friends stayed out/up as late as they possibly could (some stayed in the common room all night long), she had the good sense to get to bed by midnight most nights. Good to know she has her own mind and doesn't feel the need to follow the crowd. I hope that remains to be a part of her character. She had a great time, cultivated some old and new friendships, and was completely thrilled with participating in Teens Way Off Broadway. She even took a Making Truffles workshop (they were yummy!) My dorm experience was great: my room mate and I got along famously, our suitemates were nice and very considerate...I barely noticed we were sharing a bathroom with them. We stayed in a quiet hall, so sleeping was never a problem. And most nights we could sleep with the windows open, thanks to the cool temperatures.

I enjoyed my time immensely. I was in a very mellow, calm mood, which made for a very positive experience. I worked in the nursery for part of the time, and really enjoyed holding the babies and generally helping out with lots of other amazing volunteers. What a well-run operation (SUUSI in general, and the youth program in particular.) I also participated in the Fun Run (run by friend Bill Brooks) and finished, approx. a 13 min. mile. Good enough, but I wouldn't call it fun...

The three hikes I participated in were all enjoyable and unique in their own way. The first was to the Falls of Dismal. Beautiful area, but a very short hike to the falls, so several of us went on to hike on a path above the falls and saw some beautiful scenery and had some nice conversations.

The next hike originated at Mountain Lake, the site where much of Dirty Dancing was filmed. There was a fog on this morning, which made the temps very nice. We hiked a fairly steep path (had to rest several times) up to Bald Knob, which I believe is one of the highest points in this part of Virginia.
Unfortunately, our view was obstructed by the fog, but still an exhilarating accomplishment. We went on from there and hiked to Bear Cliffs. This was a gorgeous area, and I was fortunate to be walking with a woman well-versed in botany, which helped in identifying many of the plants along the way.Bear Cliffs is a fairly treacherous area, with deep chasms and large crags of rock. Most of the rock is very slippery, and two in our party took a fall. Not an area to be treated lightly.

Amazingly, one of our party had just turned 80 in February. While his going was slow, he accomplished the hike and we were all supportive and encouraging. Good for him!! The highlight of the nature portion of my SUUSI experience was the Travertine Falls Silent Hike. The hike was conceived by one of the Nature staff, Dave Shellman. He had experienced a hike last year during which one participant talked non-stop. He thought it might be nice to lead a hike that was based on silence, immersing the participants in their surroundings. Well, it was a huge hit. Everyone who signed up did so specifically because it was billed as 'silent.' We determined the parameters (no talking zone, time to meet back, etc.) and were on our way.

Oh, the things you can see when you have the freedom to be silent, stop, sit, go back, and contemplate. Truly a wonderful experience, and the bonding seemed even more deep without the talking. Thanks, Dave.
The rest of my time at SUUSI remained fairly open. Outside of set dining times (which were very accommodating) I had no real agenda. I attended a few theme talks and worship services, always a great experience and very grounding, I attended several of the concerts (great talent there), and did a little shopping at the SUUSI store and Artisan's Bazaar. In the afternoons we would gather in the quad for community time, sharing our thoughts on the day, the services, the weather, and just generally enjoying each other. Our circle invariably grew, as folks stopped by to say hello, and we all made new friends this way. We would often gather back in this area after dinner, and on a couple of occasions talked and laughed (oh how we laughed!) into the night.

And several nights I would end up at Serendipity, for cocktails and dancing. One night as I walked home, I came upon a labyrinth that had been set up by a participant, lined with white lights. I dropped my shoes and walked the labyrinth, enjoyed the coolness and moisture of the grass, and welcoming the tranquility of 1 a.m., after the thumping of the music and dancing. Lovely way to end the night.

When it was time to come home, Rebecca and I were both ready. We loved the week and we look forward to next year. But home is a good place to be. I've always felt that vacation is good for that...helping me to appreciate home. There's no place like home. See you next year, SUUSI...thanks for the wonderful week and unforgettable moments.