Hurt

I am reading a book right now, Son of a Trickster by Eden Robins, and a common line keeps coming up from the mother to the son, "Life is Hard, You've got to be Harder."

A lesson I have yet to learn.  I am all sorts of mush, not the clean kind or the fun kind but the truly deep down and desperate kind where you have to, by the minute dig yourself out of the mental hole you just put yourself in because you know that you are feeding yourself lies.

The lies come from everywhere.  The world is full of them, they float like waiting daggers for any mind that is susceptible to their wares.  They don't even have to sell me too hard on their product:  You are ugly.   You are not good enough.  You are dumb.  They were right you are not smart enough. Your body is not right.  You are not a good mother.   Why did you ever think you could be a writer.

Why are you going down rabbit holes where you don't belong?

It can get pretty crazy especially when any one of those is validated by people or circumstances.  Aha the ego says, see, it's true you are onto something.  You don't belong here.  And it very quickly goes to "You don't belong anywhere."

I felt hurt today by things that ultimately shouldn't matter, I shouldn't care.  I shouldn't. Period.  But I do and I can't help it.  I don't think I'm alone.  The crazy that takes us down one road and up another is just part of the journey sometimes.  Right now I'm in the thick of it and I can't see the trees from the weeds.

I write to feel better.  I napped for four hours.  I hugged my children.  I kissed my husband.  I drank Jaegermeister for the first time and, I liked it.  If nothing else today, I have found out that I like that herbal concoction of alcohol that is mired in the denizens of drunken lore.  Maybe it even felt like a little magic to find something new today and like it.  Not quite so poetic as one would like, I should have rediscovered the smell of the ocean or harped on how the sharp intake of cold in my lungs as the weather dipped below zero felt good and painful at the same time... Also all good.  But Jaegermeister, we are going to have an ongoing relationship from this point forward.

Maybe it will give me the kick I need as Eden Robins writes, "to be harder."  Life is hard.  It is also always going to keep kicking my ass.  I just have to be one step ahead and kick back first.

Sandra XXOO

Waiting

Waiting be gone.

Waiting for so long.

Waiting. For. The. Call. The Job. The Lover. The Everything over and under.

I was a big fan of I Dream of Jeannie when I was a kid.

I wanted to blink and have it all.  No wait. No waiting.

Turns out I'm still learning that lesson.

And I don't like it one little bit.

I don't want to wait.  I want it now.

The difference is, now I have responsibilities and accountabilities to my family.

I can't pretend to be sick all day and lay in bed, winking and hoping that my latest Barbie would appear with a full luggage of clothes, a motor home and Ken.

I already have Ken, and strange, I never thought of it before, but Barbie, where are your kids?

I digress, waiting sucks balls.  That's the most eloquent way I can put it, I apologize if I offend anyone.  But now I have to go make tacos for teenagers who do NOT KNOW how to wait for anything.

I guess this is a RANT, if that's what they call it these days.  Thank you for reading.

I hope and pray you don't have to wait for what you want.

It's not recommended.  It's not at all human, even if they (the world as we know it), wants us to think it is.

Anticipating, that's different.

Anticipating, you know it's on its way, and that's okay!

Anticipate and don't wait.  Choose wisely and it will all work out.

Sandra XXOO

Bleeding Heart

When did your heart first break into a trillion shards?  Have you ever recovered?

I'm not sure I have, I know I've tried to put the pieces back together, sweep some of them under the rug, others have flown far and wide, more than likely, never to be discovered.  I was lost for a long time without even knowing it.  Trying desperately to fit in, but not succeeding, because, like all of us, I am one of a kind.

I've done my research and, for the most part, I fit where I need to, now.  But, once in awhile, a night comes along where hell lets its fangs of fear and demolition free and all bets are off.  I hold on tight.  In a fog, I look for some of the pieces that were lost.  I dig them deep into my skin and I pray that tomorrow is going to be on my side.

And it always is.  The sky brightens, the clouds whiten, the air smells crisp and dewy.

A new day.  One I've never had before, one you've never had before.

The moon tonight was mostly full, the Fraser River held a mist above it's lazy waves.  The park held magic with it's dewy grass calling forth memories of when I was a kid.  And then the light lisp of memory stops, and I'm here and now, in the throes of an episode.  I know it won't be easy.  But I keep driving, I pay attention to the road which is mostly clear and I let the songs coming from my playlist soothe my sautered soul.

I don't remember when it happened, the first break, the big break.  All I know is that the pieces are too far flung and all I can do is my very best to stay healthy.  Write. Exercise. Love.  Repeat.

Maybe you know when the fracture occurred, I have my suspicions but I really don't know.  Was it my first crush in Kindergarten that I met many years later only to find out he was not that into me?  Was it my first crush in grade school, much shorter, blonde and well, that's all I remember about him.  I don't think so.  I think something bigger and better broke my strong heart.

The world.

The world I tried so hard to fit my pieces into, but it kept spitting them out.  This is not you it said, this is not for you, it kept saying. Look again, keep on looking.  But I gave up.  I decided that I couldn't look anymore for that thing, whatever it was that would make it all okay.  I was tired.

Until one day, I met the match.  The match to my bleeding heart.  And I knew that it was okay to be the way I was, that it was just fine to play the way I wanted to play.  That my life mattered.  My joy mattered.  My desire mattered.  Should it be dependent upon just one person?   Probably not.  I imagine my psychiatrist would say that was an unhealthy reliance upon one person.

But for now, and forever, it damn well is.

Sandra XXOO

That little voice in your head.

We all have it.

It's unfiltered and comes through at the most inopportune times.

Squash.

Smash.

We tell our brains, let it die, please, for the love all that is good and orderly.

And then we wake up the next morning, bam, it's still there.

The nine o-clock gun just went off in Vancouver, and tomorrow at noon I'll hear the first bars of O Canada play.  It's comforting to hear, first of all, I know what time of day it is, at least twice out of twenty-four hours, so there's that, and second, I know it will always, always happen.  It is a for sure thing.  I've been living here for ten years, not one day has been missed.  There is comfort and security in that.  There is a sense of order and belonging.  Just like you and me, we will be here tomorrow.

But will we?

I obviously don't want to get into the weeds of what no one wants to talk about, but none of us are here forever.

So, that little voice that tells you to turn left instead of right.

What do you do with it?

What do you think about when that tiny little voice is telling you something you don't want anyone to hear on the  loud speaker of your life?  Like most, like me, you go to your job.  You take care of your kids, you love your husband and you let the balloon of YES go, into the universe.

You say,  go with GOD.  Because I don't know what to do with this.  Because this could ruin me.  But is it all that bad?  A new job?  A new perspective?  A new way of looking at things.

That little voice in your head is telling you something very important:  You've changed.  And that's okay.   It is a good thing, to want more, to love more, to do more of what makes you happy.

That is what the world needs: Love and Love.

Listen to the tiny inklings, let them blossom, let them form and then let life catch up with you.

That's all any of us can hope for.

Sandra XXOO