My Heart in Winter (Winter Song · Ingrid and Sarah)

  I am looking at the peaceful snowy hillside outside of my window.  My heart is pounding outside of my chest...my head is pounding...my hands are trembling.   It seems that things aren't ready to be calm even if the scenery tries to deem it so. 
    Death, separations, harsh realities of childhood need to be exorcised properly...and if they aren't they will continue to haunt the soul.  They will whisper quietly when the days are busy.  They will shout when things are still.  Somewhere within is the dance we must do to navigate through it all.
     Maybe it just takes longer than I thought for them to all hit.  Figuring out one problem means that you have to see the thirty that were underneath and it makes for one gigantic mess.  One of my windows is clean but the others are cloudy...they obscure my view.  As I find my way others are tugging at me to stay behind.
     The shattered glass on my bedroom floor are the icicles of the heart.  They mirror the wintry landscape waiting outside my cave.  Winters are harsh.  We must bundle up to be safe.  We must drive carefully.  We must take precautions.  I guess it is like that in life as well.  We have to prepare for winter.
      Seasons have their time and then progress to the next...a cycle we set calendars and lives to.  Eventually the snow will melt.  The dirt will soften.  The flowers will pop.  The buds will sprout.  This will continue on and on and on as sure as the sun will shine and the air will fill our lungs on the inhale.  People are not seasons though...and one should not expect the same cycles that the seasons are so kind to provide.   Or should they?  Maybe we are seasons as well.  One thing following the other.  Summer will never provide the blazing foliage of fall and winter will never provide abundant gardens of greenery.  Why then do we think people will be able to change their very nature?  Seasons will come and go whether we want them to or not.  Rain will fall.  Snow will float.  Warmth will come.  Maybe we will just learn when to plant the seeds, how to drive in the ice and what is needed to be worn on our feet to protect us from the elements.  Maybe that is all we can do. 
    We can hope for the spring and the promise that it brings...and know that soon enough we will do it all over yet again.

Apologize (One Republic)

     The word apology has two definitions:

1. a verbal or written expression of regret or contrition for a fault or failing

2. a poor substitute or offering

 

    This is where it gets fuzzy.  Do we apologize for something that we did or said?  Do we apologize for how a person took what we said or did?  Or is that part out of your hands.  Couldn't ANY comment or action be seen in a different way.  It's relative and subjective in its very core.  Was the thought behind the comment mean...or harmless... and who is to decide which is which?   The second definition is more of how I operate.  "A poor substitute".  See, to me...you don't DO the deed or the damage or say the words that crush...and therefore have nothing TO apologize for.  Sure this is easier said than done...but proactive has always been better than reactive to me.  If an "I'm sorry" gets us out of hot water we would be throwing them like confetti at every banquet we ever visit.

      Turns out I have a hard time saying the words.  Maybe it's because I work really hard at not doing the damage in the first place.  Maybe it's because as a wee child I was taught that the sorry didn't really change anything.  Maybe it's an admission of my guilt and I am bad at that feat.  Maybe I've never really heard it coming in this direction.  Looking back I have had many a relationship in which the pain was delivered with ease and the apology was withheld just as easily.  So I might not really know how this concept even works.  It's a language that I don't know...like French or quantum physics.  But I have been practicing.  As a light bulb begins to shine over my head I immediately shed that light on the person that needed to hear the regret and sorrow that accompany it.  But somewhere in the I'm sorry I am left frustrated.  It doesn't turn back the time, it doesn't change the offense and it sure as hell never erases the feeling that goes along with it all.  Which brings me back to the initial conundrum.  Isn't it more important to not have a reason to apologize in the first place?

       This is where the work out comes in.  Learn who you are.  Decide to relinquish weapons.  Make people safe.  Keep yourself grounded.  Make the decision to allow something to effect you.  Make the decision to NOT allow something to effect you.  Grow up.  Be real.  Be vulnerable.  Find the trigger and unload the gun.  Keep your fingers off of the buttons.  Reach out.  Consider the source.  See the bully.  But more importantly live in the moment.  Are you fighting old demons?  Are you even battling the person in front of you...or are you allowing them to be covered by every other hurt that has ever happened...like a curtain.  When you want to learn how to shoot a gun there are many steps.  First, you must sign paperwork that releases what could happen.  Next, you are taught the language that is important to know.  Then you learn the safety techniques.  After all of that you still wear protective items and have to follow protocol.  Then and only then do you get to shoot the bullet.   Even then... there is a chance for injury...but the more we do, the more we learn, the more we know...the safer the weapon that we hold.  As for the one not holding the gun...would you stand in front of a loaded weapon? If we are shooting at cans in a field we are innocent but if a bird flies by at the wrong time and is killed...is the shooter at fault?  Ah, the carousel of morals that we can ride.  

I won't even get started on accidental vs. deliberate.  

      Maybe I hold onto the apology as a personal punishment.  If I say the word then I release the pain.  If I hold the word I hold the hurt that goes with it.  I teach myself a lesson.  I will say one thing...I apologize for being just as confused at the end of this post as I was at the beginning of it.  I apologize for not knowing all of the answers just yet...for that...I am truly sorry...but at least I am trying damn hard to find them. 

    

Bitter · Jill Sobule

     I get reminded on a very regular basis that when you know better you do better.  It's really quite true.  When surrounded by negativity and sadness...it's easier to bitch along with the other voices.  When swallowed up by low self-esteem and defensiveness...it's sometimes simpler to join the masses.  When the world is heavy it is sometimes too much to hold up.  But I like my optimism.  It is who I have always been.  So I guess just finding her again was the task.  I had no idea how much more I would get out of the journey.
    I am returning to the person who is truly happy for you when something good comes into your life.  I am grateful for the moments...tiny or huge...that make my heart smile.  I pause often to say "thanks" to the universe when I need to. 
     Yesterday I left therapy (an amazing session) and found myself open to the world.  Open.  None of my stuff was in the way.  I got a text from a dear friend and within seconds we had a coffee date.  Completely spontaneous.  (We don't do spontaneous...we are both over-planning-make·a·list-over-thinking virgos.) But there we were with two cups of coffee and a sweet little girl sharing not only minutes but hours.  It was a highlight in my week and a cherished time between two "sisters". Your support team needs to be a carefully crafted group.  At this time in our lives...when things are shifting...you better get the team right.  Nobody puts their bench warmers on the field for the big game.  So here I am with one hell of a coach, lots of practice time in and the most bad ass team ever. 
     I drove my car and somewhere in between the DD drive-thru and Jenne's house I smiled.  I then said out loud and all by myself..."I can have a nice life...it's ok...I can be happy...I can have friends that I love big...I can be proud of the children I have created...".  I sat there and rattled off the list of things I was happy and grateful for.  A verbalized mantra of love.  As I turned the corner the sun decided to peek through a puff of clouds and flooded onto my face in the car...a little confirmation from the skies. 
     We get a short time on this planet.  It is meant to learn, grow, feel and live.  Who are we to take such gifts and waste them on misery.  Find your demons, release your ghosts, bash your fears, release your triggers.  Heal.  Forgive.  Have empathy.  Find peace.  Say you are sorry.  Be happy for others when they are blessed.  Be grateful.  With so many amazing things TO BE...why the need to be bitter?
     Thank you again to my dearest teammates for putting on your gear and kicking a little ass on the field.  I don't have a game without you.  Also, thank you for the constant laughs...it makes it so much easier to not be bitter!

Another Year (Into the Wild · LP)

    A whole year has gone by.  I have been doing something new each day to distract me from the things that used to absorb my whole being.  I was so busy thinking about what needed to be done, what was messed up already and everything in between that I was missing the right now.  When you push yourself to be different each day...practice...exercise...put a heavier weight on the bar...you get stronger, better, bigger.  What used to terrify you is now nothing.  What used to scare you is now something you can face.  The big ones are still tough but you slowly use your new muscles to stand up taller than ever before. 
     It also takes the wires in your brain and moves them.  Reconnects them to new places or to ones that were severed.  It grows all new pathways for new thinking.  It is a beautiful thing.  I thought it was impossible.  I'm now telling you it is not.  You CAN change your thinking.  You can see things differently.  You can learn the tools needed to respond in a whole new way to the thing that might have taken you down before. 
     When I say yes to a movie I might never have watched...it is so much more than watching a different genre of movie...it is the process of opening up my world.  If I agree to slurp down a raw oyster...it is so much more than eating a piece of shellfish.  It is slurping down the idea that everyday can be a gift of some new adventure.  When I do the hard things like clean out a closet of a woman I can't bear to be without...I am doing it with a goal and it removes the obstacle and gives me a pathway to follow.
     The girl that used to say "no" because it was safer, easier or cheaper now looks to say "yes".  The woman that started to lose her voice has found it and is now practicing how to use it.  The Mom who used to let time pass now looks for ways to make it full.  The simple, the mundane is now a gift.  Adventure can come in many forms depending on what the spirit can handle that day.  Maybe one day it is shooting a gun and another it is merely a soup never tried before but that is the beauty of this process.  Do what you can that day.  Push when you need it.  Be gentle and kind if it's necessary.  Be brave when you are a chicken.  Be sensible when you need to be whole.  At the end of the year you discover not only are you what you needed to be all along but you always held the potential.  They say you shouldn't hold out for the potential of a person or an event....but I think with ourselves it's fine to...because we are only in charge of one thing in this world...our own self.   So maybe the others will be the way they are but how we can deal with them can change.
    Don't forget to be silly.  Please let yourself sob.  Be brave.  Ask yourself if you have done something that makes you feel uncomfortable today...because if you haven't...you haven't really lived. Remember to laugh at yourself.  We beat ourselves up far too often.  In the early part of last year I fell off of a step and twisted my ankle and skinned my wrist.  Immediate reaction was bad but as I sat there stunned and injured the next thought made it all better.  I had done my new thing of the day and suddenly I was giggling.  Just like that I was off the hook and something that could've been annoying was now quite comical. 
     This assignment has done so many good things in so many ways that I couldn't possibly list them all.  But let me share a big one.  I reach out to people now.  I am vulnerable and honest and raw.  I ask for help.  I beg for inspiration.  I never did that before.  I fought against the world behind a tiny shield.  Now I have an army behind me and another at my side.  I thank you all for your help this year as I learned the process.  I ask for it again this year as I spend another year practicing. 
     A new year of work.  A new year of growth.  Another 366 (Leap Year people!) days to DO the NEW!  Join me...you still have time!!!
 

The Past Meets the Present (Where or When · Dion and the Belmonts)

         I was raised by a woman who believed that only one type of music needed to exist.  She tolerated some others...but her heart...her soul... lived in the time of the 50's.  So as a young child and throughout my life I have cherished these songs as well.  I went through a strange period in my young teens when I couldn't get enough of the sounds and stories that came along with this music.   Ironically, my six-year-old's birthday party theme just yesterday was also the 50's.  It has all come in a strange circle.  When I hear these songs it takes me back to a woman with a huge smile dragging me through the streets of the Italian Feast to see the bands that originally sang them.  I also was given only one piece of the legacy of the life of my uncle...a box of 45's with more of this music.  It only increased the love.
      All that time as a young kid I had no idea that I was only two degrees of separation from a legendary band member.   Dion and the Belmonts is THE classic 50's group and my best neighborhood buddy was the nephew of the one and only Fred Milano.
     Last summer I had the privilege to meet this man all of these years later.  He was singing on a porch at a summer party.  He strummed a guitar and harmonized with his dear friends and family.  A legend...right there.  It was exciting but not as exciting as hearing the stories of the life that his career brought to him and his family.  His family is probably one of the most passionate groups of people I have ever had the honor to be around.  They tell stories...bigger than life, love bigger than mountains and laugh louder than thunder.  They embrace their family and lives with enthusiasm.  Almost fifty years of marriage and you can see the love of a wife...the devotion of his children...the bonds of his family.  Any time spent in their presence is not only wildly entertaining but a rare gift in this world.  This man, his legacy and his life were very special and I regret that I  didn't get to a show before he left us...but find some comfort that I will forever get to hear his music.   Though he will missed dearly here on Earth by so many...it is nice to know that the music in heaven just got a little bit sweeter. 

Be always at peace and a some harmony as well, Fred Milano.