Wednesday, January 27, 2010
My excitement is weighted at this point! So much good, so much engagement, so much fun coming......
see you in February!!!!!!!!!!
in love. trish.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Can you rely, trust, have ears only for, your own voice?
I've had years in my life that I was like a boat swaying on the waves of a passing jet ski. Rocking back and forth I'd trust in the words of a new friend, the judgement of a temporary heart resident, reinforce my weakened bows with words from a scattered, unfaithful partner. It was what I knew; it was what I had to go on. There was a sense of off kilter; that I'd taken a right turn when I should've gone left, but I was hard pressed to begin again. It was so much easier to love the world than to love myself.
To turn and begin to walk back, to make my way to that cross in the road and begin in the direction that was destined for me, is to revel in the every step. Joyously tread into each lesson as it comes my way and peacefully negotiate the map to return to my true purpose. It's been an arduous task: turning back to oneself when the loss of her was not always evident. But in steadfast, diligent commitment is also blissful, authentic joy.
I am where I should be. Perhaps, have always been. That even my off kilter state was mine to experience: I come to 43 with clearer vision, sharper hearing and honest trust. Experiencing life to have life experience. All the trials, blessings, troubles and gifts are mine. Finding joy in my every circumstance. And looking forward to each and every minute. Who needs sleep? :)
in love. trish
Saturday, January 16, 2010
walking along a path for the first time not sure of where it leads or where it will end.
trimming the dead branches off of a favorite plant with hopes that the good parts will florish and thrive as a result of the caregiving.
picking up a paintbrush to paint the Golden Gate bridge.
beginning a load of laundry.
stocking the frig for a house full of boys.
cracking the cover on one's journal to put pen to page once again.
is it futility or is it hope? is it mindless or is it thoughtful? is it graceful or is it painful? is it enriching or is it depleting?
it is in the interpretation. it is in the individual. it is in each of us to choose.
in love. trish
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Have you a moment in your life you can look back on and say 'ah ha. that is where it began.' I have read about them in books; people making a life choice, whether conscious or unconscious, and being able to look back after years or decades and see that that decision is where life changed for them. Where their personality-way of facing the world-began for them. I've thought it happened only in the fiction novels. Now I can see that nonfiction holds these moments as well.
The summer before my eighth grade year we moved from Northern California to a suburb of Denver. I welcomed the change, being an adventurer at heart in this small way. The change brought opportunity and I was thrilled by the unknown of a whole unexplored region-protected still by the fold of my family :)
My dad was fully established in his new job when the rest of us arrived in June-he had moved ahead so that my oldest brother could graduate from high school with his classmates. My mother was set to begin a new job come fall, but for that summer time she delved into decorating the house so that it would become a home both she and my father would want to open the door on each evening.
This decorating included my bedroom. I have always had a thing for yellow. Color plays a vital part in my life; a 'duh' I can see now, but then it was just a sense of something that dramatically contributed to my emotional, spiritual and physical well being. I think I could live in a world with color, words and music and be blissfully unaware of anything missing from my days....
I chose a bright yellow for the walls of my west facing, rocky mountain range view room. It was a cheery color; bold in its brightness, youthfully daring and almost neon in this sunset filled space. I felt bold, daring and neon in the choosing of it and lying in its glow each night.
My mom didn't much like it though. She called in a designer and my yellow walls were covered over with earthtoned scallop patterned wallpaper, the twin beds with structured worn brick colored bedspreads and the lovely bedside table with a neutral cloth and coordinating fabric table scarf. I distinctly recall sitting on the bed with the designer and my mother and saying yes to their obvious delight in the choices they were making for my room. I said yes to avoid the look of distaste that was evident at my yellow walls. I said yes to avoid confrontation. I said yes to keep a neutral countenance and appear agreeable. I said yes to preserve balance.
Unbeknownst to my 14 year old self I gave up balance, personal identity, my sense of self worth and personal power to believe in my instincts in this moment of resignation. I think this day of saying 'yes' when I wanted to say 'no way' was the day I took the final big swallow of my personal sense of self, locked it tight away and became a follower. I let life happen to me instead of making my life happen. For twenty five more years I let life happen to me rather than make my life happen. I lived with this self locked away, straining at the hinges, pushing against the closed lid-every once in a while bits and shreds of it seaping through the cracks. I did not know any more how to begin to say no to things and face the conflict this would bring than I knew how to pick the lock on this hidden away box and release the beautiful soul within.
Amazing things happen when you have children. You see their lives evolve and grow and identify parallels to your own. My oldest son is 19 1/2 years old. The youngest is nearly 14. I know that I've done wrong for them. I know what I've done wrong for them. It wasn't the divorce and the strife this brought to their days. No, this was a blessing that allowed their selves to emerge more quickly than mine. My mistake was in how I lived my days. In bowing to what came along for me instead of testing, trying, evaluating and ultimately being able to say no to things that crossed my path. My mistake was in living this way and letting them see it as an option for their lives as well. I modeled complacency.
As my boys grow towards adulthood and I see the tendency to just let life happen in their lives, I cringe and must cry some sorrowful tears to realize that the harm and damage in their lives is some of my doing. I want to take credit for only the good of their beings, but in reality, I created the part of them that allows for not questioning, just accepting, life as it comes. I created a world where accepting the covering over of desired, bright, vibrant yellow walls is acceptable. I beg their forgiveness for my part in this. But just as I've come to realize the importance of grabbing hold of my own life, throwing the lid back on the locked away spirit and shouting a resounding NO when my soul is screaming it from within, I expect them to grab hold of the same spirit in themselves. Take the reigns of each day and say YES or NO with a strong, sure voice that is responding to their inner senses.
I have been startlingly struck dumb this week: Coming to these realizations about myself and my world. With strength of character, personal worth, fortitude and peace I move forward in my choices: Making them not taking them. Healing happens and life begins anew. Sometimes every day over again and again. For myself, thank God, but my boys as well I pray. To help them get to the place I've come to for myself at 43 much more quickly in their own lives-perhaps at 19 1/2, 18, 16 and nearly 14....
in love. trish.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
I did it again. Shut down my instincts; that good old sixth sense.
I did it again. Ignored the persistent whispering to my heart.
I did it again. Convinced myself.
I did it again. Recited: I could adapt. I could adapt. I could adapt~
I'm doing it again. Learning life's lessons.
I'm doing it again. Growing into the other side of experience.
I'm doing it again. Mending what's been torn; building strength in each stitch.
I'm doing it again. Opening without fear or withholding.
I'm doing it again. Putting love before doubt; trust before skepticism; faith before all else.
I'm doing it again. thank you. in love. trish
Monday, January 4, 2010
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Startled by growing some more. I thought I was done for awhile. That I'd found level ground and was just going to be required to walk forward for a spell.
A bit shattered. A bit crushed by disappointment. But startled by feeling stronger and more real once again as well. And startled by the knowledge that I still trust, still love, still believe-if not more so now than before. blessed.
I give myself a gold star this week and look forward to the day when they'll simply be unnecessary:) in love. trish.