Blessed

Standing on my deck in the pre-dawn glow of this blustery morning, my mind forgets the stresses of the last week: Being on call at work. Fighting a 4-day allergy attack. Helping organize my parents 50th wedding anniversary party. Dealing with details from Lance's tragedy. You know, everyday type stuff. But as I stand here watching the rain and the wind, I know how truly blessed I am.

Except I don't feel that "blessed" is the right word. Of all of the meanings the word blessed has - holy, fortunate, joyful - the most common synonym I've witnessed being used would be "fortunate".
She is blessed with beautiful hair. He is blessed with musical talent. The couple is blessed with healthy children. These are things one has no control over. Or are they?
Compare that to: He is blessed with a great job. The family is blessed with a nice home. She is blessed with supportive friends.
Every one of these things takes work. Every one of these things takes commitment. It's  maintenance. Without maintenance, none of those things will survive. You could have the most gorgeous hair, but if you don't take care of it, it won't stay that way. A musical prodigy needs to be encouraged and honed to succeed. Healthy children are a product of their parents nurturing.

I've worked very hard to get where I am and to say I'm blessed, in the societal meaning,  just doesn't cut it for me. I didn't get here simply by happenstance. I wasn't just lucky. I trained my dogs diligently including  exercise and playtime and fed them healthy foods and have been rewarded with wonderful companions. I worked hard to build my career starting in high school by getting experience working and always having a job - no matter what that job was. Study, train, learn, move up.
"Blessed" is earned.

Lance

As the day dawns, I'm hit by the harsh reality that we now live in a world where Lance no longer exists. I knew this, factually of course, but I wasn't able to deal with it or even begin to process it until now. Until after the memorial.

His life was always huge. Everything he did was on a more grand scale than I'd ever seen. And living like that required a fair amount of down time, as well. He kept well balanced. He was materialistic, yet generous. He was professional, yet crazy and goofy. He couldn't be boxed into any specific type of anything.

Our marriage, like many, had its ups and downs. We were able to work through most issues - right up until we weren't. But our divorce was amicable and our friendship did not end. He and I had been together since 1987 - a few months before I graduated from high school. From then on we basically lived the same life. Nearly every story I heard at the memorial, I remembered personally. 

So, after 24 years of marriage, I believe I can say I truly knew Lance. I was his go-to person and he was mine. And, as hard as it may be to believe, there were actually things he didn’t tell other people. He wore his heart on his sleeve and his honesty got him in trouble more than once, but he had hopes and dreams and fears and insecurities that he would never burden others with. And neither will I. Again, even though our marriage didn’t last, our friendship did and with that we were able to move on easily. In the few months he and Brenda were together, Jeff and I got together with them more than a couple times. We were out to dinner with them the night they got engaged. And later that month, Lance asked Jeff to perform their wedding ceremony.

I will think of him every day – whenever I see one of his customers or anyone at Hydra-Power or Shoe Mill, whenever I see one of the 30 different types of cars we owned, when I hear a comedian he liked, when I make a meal he was fond of, cruises, vacations with friends, all of these things and so much more. Nearly every little detail in day-to-day life. I have to block a large part of it at this point because it's too overwhelming. I will get help. I will get through this. I'm thankful that I have the love and support of Jeff. He takes excellent care of me, which is a tough feat considering I don't accept help easily. Or at all, without a fight. But I'm learning.

The other day Jeff and I were watching a comedy show and something in it reminded me of another comedian whose name I couldn't remember. I said, "Lance would know..." Normally, I'd just call or text him. Jeff asked if that was weird. Yes. Yes, it is. And it will continue to be.

My last thought, which both saddens and enlightens me as well: Now he can be with mom.

Namaste, friends.

Social media - My unexpected muse

Facebook is a wonderful thing. It's full of family pictures, adorable cat videos, shared memes, and the work and life status of all of our friends and family. It’s the latter that I find most interesting. Personally, I have struggled many times in my life to find that holy grail of our Earthy existence – happiness. And from updates I read of friends and family on Facebook, I’m not the only one. Ok, I knew that. If it were an easy find, we’d all be there, right? The part I find interesting is just how wishy-washy we really are. Or maybe that's just me.

I’ve spent a good amount of time over the years searching and researching the key(s) to happiness. Those of you who have read my blog know that I’ve come to a couple of theoretic conclusions but the most prominent one is that happiness lies within ourselves and is generated by gratefulness. It is our attitude that takes us to either the positive or the negative. One cannot be truly happy if they are continually searching for what is out of reach. Financially, I will never be a millionaire, but I’ve pushed myself in life to a good career so I have what I need. Physically, I will never be an Olympic athlete nor will I ever look like a supermodel, but I can cook and eat healthy foods (maybe splurge on the occasional rack of ribs!) and get exercise by walking or running to stay healthy. Spiritually, I will never be as enlightened as the Dalai Lama, but I can meditate on the writings of a myriad of spiritual leaders and embrace the peace gleaned there.

I know these things. I’ve felt these things. I’ve used myself as an experiment in this manner and succeeded in happiness. Yet, I fell back. The past few months have been stressful, granted. I don’t like to use stress as an excuse for lack of consciousness but, in my experience, that’s exactly what happens. I get stressed out, I react. By reacting, I’m not being conscious of the big picture and I’m not mentally here, in this moment. I’m pressed for time because I’m at work late and can’t get to the store or the pharmacy in time. I’m annoyed at the construction blunders in our apartment complex causing it to be drawn out longer and keeping our apartment in complete shambles. I need to buy a wedding dress. This one is a two-fold frustration: 1) Trying on wedding dresses, for me, ranks right up there with trying on jeans or bras for most women. There better be cocktails available! 2) Cost. I don’t believe I need to elaborate on that one. And now, the Yukon is in the shop for a week. Enough said there. And work is work. I love my job but it is stressful. Ironically, that’s part of what I like about it, but that’s an entirely separate blog post about my own neuroses. There are several other issues, but you get the picture. I’m not really in my ideal element right now. This is the wishy-washy part. How could I have done all that work to consistently be conscious yet fall off so easily?

And the interesting part is that I’ve become conscious again because of Facebook. There are so many different perspectives and histories and attitudes it makes it easy to see several sides of a story.

For the last couple months, I’ve been reading people’s status posts and oftentimes thinking, “Wow, the drama.” Or “Why would you post something like that?” You know the type. But recently I realized that it doesn’t matter what people put out there - most posts are either depressing or exuberant. Some are in between, but what I noticed is that most of the happy or sad posts were a reaction. Of course! Well, duh! If you win $50 on Keno, great! If you get in a car accident, mega-bummer! This is how we instinctively think. But if you are truly grateful and truly happy, there is no negative. Period. As the saying goes - There is a reason for everything, though we may not know that reason, now or ever. For me personally, I’ve found that I’m spending way too much time reacting to things I have no control over. And when I stress myself out like that, it affects my mood which affects my health – physically and mentally. And in the end, that’s all we have.

So, today, I’m choosing to be more conscious. I’ve done it before, so I know I’m able. Success is a series of failures. Maybe the Yukon will see 400,000 miles because of this fix. Maybe the apartment complex construction will result in a more serene, comfortable place to live. Maybe I’ll get a raise at work for my efforts. Maybe I’ll find that perfect dress for a decent price. It’s all in the attitude. The perspective. Nothing in life needs to be negative. Nothing.

 

Namaste, my Facebook friends!

The secret of my success

Many of you know I have quite a fondness for sayings. I have a collection of my favorites. There are many that are true inspirations and many others I’ve used as mantras at different times in my life, but this one I have found to be applicable in every facet of my life - work, relationships, running, quitting smoking, yard work... When I was so stressed out from my job, this helped me change my attitude about it. When my marriage was failing, this helped me push through what I needed to do. When I lost my job, this kept me moving in the right direction. Even when I had to let Forest go, this helped me focus and not be selfish.

Success is a relative term. It doesn’t solely apply to work, income or possessions. Success to me is being happy in your life. It doesn’t matter what you do or what you have or who you’re with or where you are. Those are the specifics which are up to you and if you are truly happy then you have succeeded. When circumstances change and you are no longer happy then you need to make a change in order to get back to success. Unfortunately, we are creatures of habit. It’s so much easier to do what you always do. Or, in clearer terms, to do nothing. How does that make you feel? Comfortable. How would you feel if you pushed towards happiness? Scared. How would you feel if you pushed towards happiness and succeeded? Elated!

Circumstances change all the time. I want to be able to go with the flow and this helps me stay on the road to my success. I read this every day and live by it to the best of my ability every day.

Namaste, my friends!

Do what needs to be done. Say what needs to be said. Listen to the things you need to hear. Learn what you need to learn. Explain what you need to explain.

Rather than constructing elaborate methods for avoiding these things, or elaborate excuses to evade them, just get them done. Instead of letting things slip and continue to weigh you down, get them done and let your actions energize you. The avoidance of effort is just as difficult as effort itself yet avoidance accomplishes nothing positive.

Success is not always easy, yet it is, for the most part, simple. The way to accomplishment is not hidden. It is in plain view. You can see what must be done. Stop fretting. Quit worrying. Don’t complain. You know what you need to do. So, do it.

 

Expectations

If you had asked me a year ago where I thought I’d be in a year, well, actually, I was working towards something similar to where I am. But in reality, life rarely, if ever, mimics expectation. We expect to graduate from high school, maybe go to college; we expect to get a job; maybe we expect to get married, have kids. For anyone who has done any of these things, it’s not quite so cut and dried, is it? We expect specifics as well. We hope for a job working with animals or that feeds our creativity or our passion for logic. We want that relationship that enhances our love of skiing or quest for the perfect cup of coffee. We long for children who are not only smart and polite, but are interested in the family business or care about the environment. Whatever expectations you hope for, they are your own little utopia. Little do you know at the time, your real utopia is just a tad different.

My life journey took a huge turn when I found myself single as well as unemployed. Having had 24 years in both my job and my marriage I was obviously starting over. The job hunt was relatively simple – there’s no real emotion involved. Well, some, yes, but it’s nothing like finding a date. I signed up on a few employment sites and searched for the specific job I wanted. I sent several resumes and had a few interviews until I found one that clicked for both me and the company. When I decided to look for a date, I signed up on a couple dating sites and searched for the specific person I wanted. I sent several messages and had a few first dates until I found one that clicked for both of us.

Hmmmm… exact same process...

Yet, somehow the expectations I had for this job were much more closely realized. My expectations for the relationship, however, have been realized quite differently. But not in a bad way.

I expected to be with someone who loves me for me, accepts my crazy time-consuming job, accepts my crazy time-consuming dog, accepts my crazy OCD, shares my love of wandering Downtown Portland as well as other fun venues, isn’t afraid of PDA, doesn’t care what other people think, has confidence in himself, has compassion for others, has tolerance for all.

What I didn’t expect was how much more deeply and far-reaching the qualities of a person can delve. I never imagined being treated so gently and sweetly. To be truly accepted and understood was something I expected but I didn’t know or realize just how differently people convey these feelings. I am still overwhelmed by the complexity of it all. I found myself realizing that I’m kind-of a hard ass – that’s what strong women have to portray. Or so I thought. And as much as I’ve worked on my OCD over the years, I’m far from laid-back. Farther than I’d like. I never expected to find myself. But, I suppose, that is how we find ourselves – by relating to traits and characteristics of others as we get to know one another. It wasn’t until I recognized these traits that I could nourish the positive and overcome the negative. Recognition and realization are actually the easy part – once you have that understood, then work can begin. That’s a longer road, but I don’t have to travel it alone anymore.

I found what I expected. I found what I wanted. I didn’t expect to find myself so enveloped by it. My life is no longer my own and I can’t imagine it ever being again. It’s not perfect and I wouldn’t want it to be. It won’t be without issues and I welcome the challenges. These are the obstacles - not even obstacles, more like events – yes, these are the events that create our character. These are the events that create the story of our lives.

I can’t wait to write the rest of the chapters of our life together, Jeff. There are no words to express the love I have for you. If there are, I don’t know them. Every day I’m taken aback by where we are and how we click on every level. I don’t understand it, but I don’t need to. This is our utopia.

Cool

As an early teen I had the same aspirations as most of my peers - how do I fit in and get people to like and accept me? And, like many of my peers, my solution to this extremely important issue was incorrect. But at the time, I, of course, knew everything I needed to know to get on in life. Ah, the teenage years teach us so much, don't they?

I wasn't looking to be part of the "soch" (short for socialite, at that time) crowd. My family didn't have nearly enough money for me to be accepted into that domain. And I was ok with that. Those kids seemed so fake to me and I wasn't into that. The direction I went wasn't much better though. The people seemed more real because they were more accepting and tolerant but I'm not sure they really were.

I started smoking cigarettes at 13. That was the cool thing to do. Oh, and once some of the other kids found out I smoked, well, I was In like Flynn. I had found a whole new group of friends. Once you hold some type of taboo commonality it's amazing how quickly you can find friends. Now, this isn't to say that I didn't have friends. I did. I had some great friends. Only a few, but we were very close. I wasn't looking for more friends, specifically. I was looking for that status of "cool". But you can't have a status of any type without being known to more people. And so the snowball began.

A couple of my close friends were following suit with me. A couple weren't and we ultimately parted ways. I have no animosity towards them and never did. I was on my own path and I knew that. Luckily for me, that's one of those life lessons I learned from my parents at an early age. There are several of those, but that's another story in itself. Not long after starting smoking, I tried drinking. Now I'm cooler than cool! We'd get together for little secret parties, smoke and drink, and have a great time. Keeping it from our parents was the ultimate cool challenge. Because, at that age, you are so much smarter than your parents, right? And to prove that to your friends, brought your status up a notch. I was on my way up.

But by that point I knew I wasn't yet to the top of the ladder. I started smoking pot. Oh, did I like that. I felt invincible and relaxed at the same time. I didn't realize until later that pot had a slightly different effect on me than on most of my friends. It energized and invigorated me and nothing bothered me. Life is stressful as a teen and I had none of that. I'd get stoned and clean the entire house if no one was home. (I think that stemmed partly from my perfectionist nature - having to keep everything clean and orderly.) And before I knew it, that was my life. As a freshman in high school, I'd get high before going to school, I'd be clear by 3rd period or so and stay that way till I got home, then get high again in the evening. Sometimes, I'd skip school in the afternoon and hang out with friends whose parents both worked. Latchkey kids, they called them. To me, that was the coolest thing. I never had that option since my mom was a housewife and also worked from home. I couldn't be anywhere near home. And the weekends were easy - I'd just tell my parents I was staying at a friend's house overnight. If I wanted to come home, I'd just say there was some issue like my friend got in trouble or her parents were fighting. Some crazy, but realistic excuse.

I learned all the tricks and I was on top for a long time. Well, when you're a teenager, even a month is a long time. But I was on top for nearly a year. I was one of the coolest. We partied every weekend and life was a party. Then, my sophomore year, I landed in rehab. Apparently, I wasn't smarter than my parents for long. Now, I'm so thankful that I was caught before I turned 18. I was 16 at the time and my parents had full responsibility and discretion of my life. I knew I had to go and I went willingly. Now, before this snowball even began, I knew what I wanted to do in life - I wanted to be an architect. I knew this required school - a lot of it - and I knew I would get there. Ok, I went a little sideways from architecture but I still got through school and found a career I love. So, for me, rehab was going to be a necessary step. I saw where some of my friends and their friends were in life. It wasn't pretty. Some were in their 20's with no job, living with their parents or in an apartment with 5 or 6 other people, sleeping on a mattress on the floor. That wasn't going to be me. So, at 16, I was admitted into rehab. Being there willingly didn't make it much easier. I went through the same mental anguish and physical withdrawals as the other kids there. The term "cool" no longer applied to this life because there were no cliques "on the inside", as we called it. We had to get through and graduate or we wouldn't get out. My life consisted of group therapy, physical education, meditation and self introspection every single day. And even with all of that, my stay there wasn't without setbacks. I was supposed to be there for 30 days but before that, one kid managed to get out one day - he was 18 (the max age for this facility) and had his motorcycle there. He rigged one of the windows so the security system wouldn't go off and brought us back some hashish. The next morning, the staff hit us with a surprise UA. We were all caught. By participating in that little stunt, I added 15 days to my stay. But as tough as it was to get through all of that, the hardest part was putting it all out there for my parents. They had caught me so they knew something. But they didn't know everything. The first week there I had to call my mom and ask her to bring me a carton of cigarettes and pickup my birth control prescription. I'm still not sure how I managed to spit all that out. But I was defeated. I had nothing left. I had nothing to lose. Thankfully, mom was understanding and compassionate.

After I got out and got home, I relapsed once and that was the end of the compassion and beginning of tough love. They kicked me out. I lived with a girlfriend and her mom for the duration of my high school years. I got a job and contributed to the household. And I never did drugs again. I was determined to be a better person. But I still wanted the cool factor. By then, cool had a different meaning. Just having had been in rehab had a sobering, yet cool connotation to it when I returned to school. People looked at me differently. Or maybe I looked at them differently. All of the therapy did teach me that I didn't need acceptance from others to be worthy of the successes in life. I had my few close friends, still and they liked me for who I was. I didn't need the approval of anyone else. I realized that "cool" is not what you do or who you hang out with, but who you are. The only real requirements of being cool are to remain calm, and not react to adversity, but to embrace it and do what needs to be done to deal with it.

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger...

When I was a kid, my best friend John had a husky named Rusty. She was a sweet, tolerant pup. We found out that dogs would answer to up to three different names so we started calling her Yogurt. I know now that it's more how you say it than what you say for the dog to respond and understand. But back then, we thought it was the funniest thing that we could give her a completely different name and she'd answer to it.

Fast-forward 30 years...

I started out calling him Tigger. He was bouncy, just like the character, and kinda dim-witted. And striped. It fit. In the 3+ years I've had him, he's become almost as perfect a dog as Forest was. Tiger still has time and is improving every day so it's quite possible that he'll attain that status. Not that he cares, of course. Unless there are treats for earning "best dog"! Which there are.

"Piglet" was his next name - coined by my mom. Man, oh man, could that pup eat! While Forest would take his time, seemingly savoring each bite, Tiger would practically inhale his food. It was crazy! And, to this day, he does the same thing. Any food in his bowl or on the floor will be gone in seconds.

So, I put the names together - Tiglet. But that sounded funny. Twiglet sounded better. It flowed better. But then, I shortened that to just Twigs. And sometimes I'll even call him Twiggles.

[Sidenote - Forest also had a nickname. I started by calling him Dog Nut - stemming from doughnut. Pretty soon it became Nutters and got shortened to just Nuts. So, with both of them, I had Nuts and Twigs. LOL! I couldn't have planned that better!]

I love my Twiglet and I wish him the happiest 4th birthday ever! He's a good, good boy and deserves everything I spoil him with.

I love you baby Twigs! Happy Birthday!