I’ve written before about how my sense of self-worth was (is still to some extent?) tied to my job. I obtained this knowledge when my career was completely derailed as the mortgage industry took a nose dive in 2007. I went from being a VP with a six figure income to being unemployed for a full year. It wasn’t pretty. I felt like a big loser. A failure. I learned a lot in that year. For instance, that I am still me, and still a person worthy of love, even when I am unemployed. I am not my job. I am not worthy of love only when I am working and bringing in the big bucks. Good lesson.

Since I’ve been employed steadily now for longer than I was unemployed I’ve noticed something else. My self-worth is also tied to how much I earn. I took a huge pay cut out of necessity. The VP jobs were few and far between with hundreds of qualified candidates applying for them. I took several steps back. I’ve made some progress as far as promotions. I am back in management. But I’m not making anywhere near six figures these days.

I was bothered by this for several weeks recently as I came to believe that I’m worth more. And I am. But it took a bit longer to see that the amount of money I make does not define me any more than my job title or even lack of employment does. I am worth a lot more than my paycheck. I was taking on way too much work. Any freelance opportunity that came my way, I accepted. There were a few weeks where I was working 13 hour days since I have a full time job already and had to work on the freelance stuff in the evenings.

The thing is that I’ve already got the job I want. More important to me than the money is the fact that I work from home. I don’t have to fight traffic or be stuck in a cubicle all day. And the main reason I wanted to work from home was to have the extra time to spend with my kids and other things that I want to do. So why the hell was I taking on additional work that took more precious time away from what I really want?

Money. I’m not particularly materialistic. I don’t care about expensive cars, houses, jewelry or “stuff”. I do feel more secure when we have money in the bank and I don’t enjoy having to watch every penny I spend at the grocery store. But when I think of how many people in our country alone are in much worse financial shape than we are, not to mention all the people in other countries living under completely inhumane conditions, well, I feel like a shallow snob. Sadly, it does make me feel better about myself to earn an extra raise, bonus or additional pay from a freelance job. It’s mostly the pride in taking care of things, financially speaking, and the security that comes from having extra money for those unexpected emergencies.

But at what cost? The time I so desperately wanted. I’ve spent it working instead. At the ripe old age of 40 I’ve finally learned that if I want something, I am the only one who can obtain it. Clearly I’m a slow learner. And I am the only one who can sabotage myself too. I got what I wanted. I work from home. I like my job. I make decent money. Spending more time on additional work is taking away from what I want and the money is usually long gone by the time the regret sets in over the fact that I have spent my time doing something other than what I want to with it.

Do what you love and the money will follow, right? Starting today, that’s exactly what I’m doing.

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I have to preface this post by stating that it is inspired by this post by Hope and Healing with Elaine. It’s a lengthy but extremely informative article about introverts and in particular, Highly Sensitive People (HSPs) who are introverts. I read The Highly Sensitive Person by Elaine N. Aron, Ph.D (not the same Elaine who wrote the article I mentioned as my inspiration for this post) several years ago. I remember that I got a lot out of it and thought it was an excellent book. I’m going to have to read it again though since I honestly can’t remember why I liked it so much.

Elaine N. Aron, Ph.D describes a HSP:

HSP students work differently from others. They pick up on the subtle things, learning better this way than when over-aroused. If an HSP student is not contributing much to a discussion, it does not necessarily mean they do not understand or are too shy. HSPs often process things better in their heads, or they may be over-aroused. This can be the reason for their not contributing. HSPs are usually very conscientious but underperform when being watched. This also applies to work situations; HSPs can be great employees—good with details, thoughtful and loyal, but they do tend to work best when conditions are quiet and calm. Because HSPs perform less well when being watched, they may be overlooked for a promotion. HSPs tend to socialize less with others, often preferring to process experiences quietly by themselves.

There are many in the psychology field who view being highly sensitive as a psychopathological condition that can be treated via various forms of therapy. Both of the Elaines mentioned above and many others view being highly sensitive simply as a normal and innate personality trait that is misunderstood in our extroverted society.

I do not yet know what to think about it. I do know that I answered yes to the majority of the questions on the self-test. I also know that I can become easily overwhelmed or frazzled and that this happens quite frequently in social situations. However, I don’t socialize less with others in general and have had no problems with obtaining promotions and can successfully perform under stressful working conditions.

I’m pretty outgoing and social. At the same time I am more introverted than most people I know appear to be.  I like parties. I love concerts, and I mean big loud rock concerts. I find it easy to talk to people and don’t feel anxious in social situations. I’ve even overcome my public speaking phobia. I do prefer smaller parties to larger. I like larger parties better if there are several people to whom I am close are also in attendance. I hate loud, overly crowded bars or events. I tend to hit a wall at larger parties where I’m just completely wiped out, depleted and exhausted, even when I’m not the hostess and have no responsibilities other than to enjoy myself. I become over-stimulated and overwhelmed. I just want to go home to some peace and quiet. This does not seem to happen to most people I know.

After reading Elaine’s post I decided to really pay attention to my behavior and feelings at the large July 4th barbecue my family and I attended today. It was a great party hosted by my brother-in-law. There were lots of people there to whom I feel close, including my hubby and sons. I truly had a good time. It was one of the more enjoyable July 4th parties I’ve been to in recent history. Nonetheless, right around the four hour mark, I hit that wall. I hadn’t had too much to drink. Nothing at all was wrong. I was just done. Hubby noticed. I don’t need his permission to leave a party of course, but I still feel badly about it. He insisted it was fine, I had nothing to feel bad about, and that he knew I wanted to leave so I should just go home. I knew he was right but I felt like a wet blanket. A party-pooper. I’ve felt this way before. He and the boys can go all night. Sometimes I can too. But today four hours was enough for me I guess. And really I’m not raining on anyone’s parade as I did not insist that they leave sooner than they want to and my leaving most certainly did not put an end to the party.

Now that I’m home I still feel guilty about leaving. Conversely, I feel relieved to be home. It’s quiet and I’m alone. I do wish hubby and the boys were here relaxing with me but I don’t mind that they wanted to stay. Had I stayed I would probably have felt increasingly overwhelmed, tired and cranky and then I really would have been a party-pooper.

I still don’t know if I’m a highly sensitive person even though I answered yes to most of the questions on the quiz and do get overwhelmed after a while at large social gatherings. It doesn’t add up though since there are some large social gatherings at which I do not hit that wall. Maybe it just depends on other factors (my overall mood, amount of sleep I had the night before, level of stimulating conversation – something that’s very important to me, weather conditions – it was hot and humid today and even rained briefly, my level of alcohol consumption, etc.). Hell, for all I know hormones could even play a part. I guess it doesn’t really matter as long as hubby and I can strike a happy compromise as we did today. He got to stay and I got to leave. Neither of us is upset about the other’s decision. Maybe I’m just an ambivert with more introverted traits and he is an ambivert with more extroverted traits. As long as we’re both happy it’s ok. I just need to stop feeling guilty about it when I do hit the wall.

I welcome your comments on this subject. Do you feel overwhelmed sometimes (or all the time) at large or small social gatherings? If so, how do you handle it? Does this cause conflict between you and your significant other, friends or family? If so, how do you resolve it? Do you consider yourself to be introverted or highly sensitive? If so, what sorts of problems have you encountered as a result?

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Direct communication. I learned about this very foreign concept when I was in my late 30′s. Of course I’d always thought that I was communicating directly but in hindsight, I rarely did. I was trained from an early age that whatever I had to say was of no importance and that in order to avoid abuse I had to manipulate people and situations. I did that very well for a long time by people pleasing, holding grudges, playing the martyr, mind-reading, projecting and with denial.

Once I learned, and it was a long slow process, that it was actually ok to simply state exactly what was on my mind I was shocked. The sky didn’t fall. The world didn’t end. Nothing happened at all. Well, that’s not accurate. Others reacted to my new form of communication adversely. They didn’t like it at first. They liked the status quo. Turns out, that is a completely normal reaction to a loved one making major changes. Eventually the entire dynamic of several of my relationships changed entirely. Some of the people with whom I had the most conflict at first ended up joining me in learning direct communication. Hubby is one of those people.

It’s amazing how clueless I was to all that I was not communicating. If I thought it I assumed others thought the same. When they behaved in ways that baffled me and/or were hurtful to me I assumed they didn’t care about my feelings or that I had done something wrong. Later, through direct communication I learned that some of them simply did not understand me and also that some of them did not, in fact, care about my feelings.

Some of them are incapable of caring about anyone else’s feelings. As I became more and more comfortable with direct communication I noticed that those people who are not capable of caring about my feelings are master manipulators themselves who almost never communicate directly. I now have no tolerance for manipulation and indirect communication. I stay away from those people whenever I can. When I can’t, I limit my exposure and the topics I discuss with them.

One of the things that used to frustrate me the most about some people in my life was the way they would not answer questions. Whenever someone would dodge a question, completely ignore a question or answer a question with another question I became extremely confused. I used to think that perhaps I had crossed over some line and asked an inappropriate question or somehow otherwise made them uncomfortable. I felt confused a lot of the time and spent countless hours trying to figure out what I had said that caused the awkward situation.

It turns out that it wasn’t me. It was them. And this is now one of the first red flags that go up when I am getting to know someone new. If I ask questions appropriate to the level of intimacy in our relationship and those questions are repeatedly ignored, dodged or answered with anything less than a direct answer, I know I am dealing with someone who is attempting to manipulate me. It doesn’t mean they have some evil plot to hurt me. It can be something as simple as the person not wanting me to view them in a certain way so they start manipulating the conversation to avoid having to disclose something that they believe will make them look bad.

A recent example is a conversation I was having with a friend. She has been talking to me about her marital problems for months. Whenever we get together I hear story after story about her husband and the arguments they have. At first I was sympathetic and just listened and answered questions if she asked. Eventually I started to notice that major details seemed to be left out of many of the instances that she was telling me about. Things didn’t add up or make sense. So, I started asking questions. She would not answer any of them directly. Suddenly her memory was faulty and she sounded like a politician or a criminal defendant. She was pleading the 5th without telling me that’s what she was doing. She wants me to be on her side when we have these conversations. She does not want me to know the whole truth or see her as anything less than the victimized injured party in what is most definitely a two way street.

The funny thing is that I would actually like her much better if she were able to just be real. If she wants to talk to me about her marital problems, that’s fine, but since she is being selective about what she tells me I have no vested interest in actually listening. I wouldn’t care what she’d done to contribute to her marital problems. I would feel closer to her and more interested in her problems if she would just be herself, warts and all. As it is, it just feels like we have a superficial relationship.

It’s unfortunate that people are unable or unwilling to communicate directly. It’s so much easier than the manipulation that many people (my former self included) choose to engage in instead. It separates us and keeps barriers up that prevent us from reaching any real level of intimacy.

“It is always the false that makes you suffer, the false desires and fears, the false values and ideas, the false relationships between people. Abandon the false and you are free of pain; truth makes happy, truth liberates.” — Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj

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I’ve read quite a bit in various books and articles about psychology and about Buddhism that talk about ”being in the moment” or “being present in the moment”. I’ve never fully understood what this means. It sounded, frankly, like a bunch of self-help psycho-babble and/or vague guru-speak. I was 90% certain that this idea was absolute nonsense because nothing I read adequately explained it’s precise meaning with any clarity.

I was wrong.

I caught a glimpse of the meaning of being present in the moment during my recent trip to the ocean. On that beach with the sun shining, the waves gently rolling in and out, the breeze blowing my hair and the incredible view of the vast expanse of the ocean before me, I was present in the moment. I was not thinking about work or bills or my past or my future. I was enjoying the moment. And that is all it means. It is no more complicated than that. I was making it more complicated than it is in trying to wrap my brain around a concept that seemed too deep or too vague for my neurotic little brain to grasp.

Being present in the moment is extremely difficult for me in my real life. Everything is easier at the beach. Once home I realized that I am rarely just enjoying the moment, or even just experiencing and observing the moment. Not all moments are enjoyable of course. Some moments are painful. Some are just boring. Or are they? It seems that in addition to having monkey mind, which is the primary reason I find it difficult to be present in the moment, I have fixed views on certain moments as they occur and if already dismissed as boring, for example, I don’t even attempt to look at it any other way. And then my mind wanders and I’m not in the moment.

The truth is that in mentally checking out during moments I have judged to be unworthy of my full attention I am likely missing a lot of moments that are absolutely worthy of my attention. In fact they are all more worthy of my attention than the thoughts that run through my head when I do let it wander. Worry over work and bills, past events and possible future events….none of this is more worthy of my attention than whatever is currently going on. I can’t change the past and can’t control the future. That is not to say that we should never look back or forward. We have to. But I think my time would be better spent in looking back or forward during brief and specific times of my choosing, not just to escape the current moment.

Because this is so difficult for me I turned to research, as I always do, through reading. After reading What Really Matters: Searching for Wisdom in America by Tony Schwartz as suggested to me by my friend Dawn (excellent book, I highly recommend it), I realized why I never found meditation to be particularly helpful in my life. It was relaxing while I was doing it and I was (when I wasn’t doing it wrong) in the moment, but it never translated into any lasting changes in my life. It was the type of meditation I was doing. I was practicing samatha meditation, in which the goal is to completely quiet the mind and focus solely on something other than your own thoughts (breaths, a candle, etc.). While this is a good way to relax and probably even a good way to start, I think vipassana meditation is more beneficial for me. This is an introspective type of meditation in which the focus is on your own thoughts. The idea being to allow whatever thoughts pop into your head to be observed without judgement, as if you are a neutral third party.

From the same book I learned a bit more about gestalt therapy so now I’m reading Gestalt Therapy by Frederick S. Perls. It is a highly technical book,not exactly light reading, but so far I’m learning techniques for staying in the moment. The first and most simple is during every day normal activities to constantly practice thinking, “right now, I am….”. This has proven to be beneficial already after only a few days. I was alone for much of this weekend so I tried it out and it’s sort of like tricking my brain into not worrying or ruminating. It sounds ridiculous at first but it truly does allow me to notice things I never noticed before and to remain in the moment.

For example, during my shower this morning I practiced. As in, “right now I’m washing my hair.”, “right now I’m washing my face”. I told you it sounds ridiculous at first!  In reality what this does is force you to stay in the moment. Literally. And I noticed things I have never noticed before, because I decided long ago that taking a shower is a boring necessity not worthy of my attention so my mind normally wanders all over the place. Today I noticed the sun streaming in through the window, how the shower spray feels like rain, how silky my hair feels with conditioner in it, etc…you get the idea. It was an eye opening experience during a “task” that I normally am somewhat annoyed that I have to even waste time doing and one that has become completely automatic.

None of the things I noticed in the shower may sound important but the idea is that we live most of our lives in this auto-pilot, checked-out state. Imagine the possibilities, especially in our relationships with others, if we were truly focusing our full attention in the moment. I’m guessing that I will notice things about people I’ve known forever that I never noticed before. Voice inflections, facial expressions, the possibilities seem endless. I’m interested in hearing from you about this if it is of interest to you. How do you stay in the moment and what have you noticed?

Thanks for stopping by!

“Being well adjusted to a sick society is not an indication of health.” — J. Krishnamurti

I’m sick. I got a cold from my son. It may be a sinus infection. I usually get them this time of year. I’m waiting to go to the doctor until tomorrow. There is nothing worse than dragging my sorry ass into the doctor’s office only to be told I just have a cold only to end up there again three days later with a double ear infection. That’s usually how it goes since they no longer just call in prescriptions for antibiotics even though this happens to me every single year.

I realize this isn’t the most interesting topic and I almost didn’t write about it but I’ve slacked off for days now and wanted to write about the other part of being sick. The good part.

When I really feel like crap as I do right now, I am forced to slow down. I am forced to exert a minimal amount of energy, get back to basics and do only what is absolutely necessary. Otherwise I feel much worse. I haven’t missed any work but that is a perk of working from home. There is no way I could have dragged myself out into the world, sat in traffic or in an office this week.

Besides work, I have done nothing much else. I have slept when I needed to sleep. I have rested. I have asked the rugrats to help out more with things like emptying the dishwasher and hubby is making dinner tonight. As someone whose natural inclination is to never stop, never sit down, always be “doing” something, being sick gives me a much needed excuse to remember why it’s important to resist that natural inclination.

I don’t have to do it all. I don’t have to do it all today. I can ask for help. I can sleep in the middle of the day if I need to. I can take care of myself. I forget all of that. I forget it a lot.

I know that this inclination comes from that asshole of an inner voice that still wants to tell me that I absolutely suck as a person if I’m not doing something or achieving. I know it’s an asshole but I still listen to it way more than I should. When I’m sick though, I don’t hear it. All I hear is that I’m not feeling well and I need to lay down. The asshole lets me off the hook when I’m sick.

My mother was a nurse. A caretaker. When I was sick all bets were off. Chores went undone. Expectations were lowered. There was even a feeling of sympathy that I never saw in her under any other circumstances. She took care of my father for seven years before he died, all while working full time and still raising my sister. Her inner voice is an even bigger asshole than mine. Even though he’s been gone for almost 11 years and she’s retired she still can’t sit still. She always has to be doing something. She is at her best when she is taking care of someone or something for someone. She’s always saying she has “twenty-million things to do”.

I wish she could just…be. I can sometimes. I’m aware that the inner voice is wrong. She is not. The immense pressure surrounding this compulsion to do something is difficult for me to escape. I cannot even begin to imagine how difficult it must be for her since she isn’t even aware of it.

In any case, I can escape it when I’m sick. And it’s a bittersweet feeling because I don’t enjoy feeling sick. I need to remember this feeling of being off the hook when I’m not sick. Just because my inner voice (and our society) tell me that I have to do more and more just to get more and more doesn’t make it so. Right now all I need to do is go lay down. I can live with that.

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Hubby and the boys have been gone most of the day. I wasn’t able to go with them because I had other things to do. When I arrived home after what seemed like 100 errands it was early evening. I knew they wouldn’t be home until late tonight so I was looking forward to having the house to myself for a while. But when I opened the garage door and saw the empty spot hubby’s car occupies I felt sad. I felt lonely.

This is so not me. I rarely feel lonely because I cherish alone time and don’t get enough of it. Sure, I miss my family when we are separated for long periods of time but this had only been several hours. Where the hell was this coming from? And what is loneliness anyway?

Loneliness:

1 a : being without company : lone b : cut off from others : solitary

2 : not frequented by human beings : desolate

3 : sad from being alone : lonesome

4 : producing a feeling of bleakness or desolation

 That’s the official definition. I wouldn’t say that a few hours away from my family equals being cut off from others or not frequented by human beings. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I felt desolate or bleak but I did feel sad from being alone. Which led me right back to my original question. Where the hell was this coming from?

It is exactly as described in the quote I chose for this post. I was feeling bad about myself and hoping they would make me feel better. Yikes. That sounds so pathetic. But I have to admit it’s true. I haven’t felt like myself lately. I have lost some self-confidence and self-respect. I know this. I have been thinking about it a lot. There are many different specific reasons but they all boil down to one thing. I haven’t been spending enough of my time doing things that enhance my self-confidence. I have been spending too much time doing things that deplete it. My own choices have caused me to lose respect for myself because I am aware that I am not properly taking care of myself yet haven’t done anything to correct it.

 It’s odd that this should come up right before my annual mother’s day trip. The first time I went away on mother’s day it was at the end of a long journey on which I learned to take proper care of myself and had a considerable amount of self-confidence and self-respect. That trip was sort of the crown jewel of my new life. The final frontier of independence, strength, living without fear and freedom from codependency. The new life in which I took proper care of myself. The new life in which others added to my happiness but in which I did not depend on them to provide my happiness for me. That’s my job.

Ironically it seems that this year’s trip is the beginning of that same journey. I’m starting over. Again. I have slipped up and need to get back on track. While that is frustrating and disappointing, at least I know the way this time. I’m trying not to beat myself up over having neglected myself because that will only lead to another journey I know well. One of self-loathing. It ends in a vicious cycle of self-defeating and destructive behaviors and thought patterns. I’ll skip that one this time around.

Old habits die hard. There must be a reason I have ended up here again. Here’s to three days alone at the beach, more lessons to be learned and the beginning of another new life.

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Taking risks. I spent most of my life avoiding risk. I really started taking serious risks about three years ago. Prior to that I did take some. In my forty years of life, the last three years filled with risk taking, some have paid off big. Some have been dismal failures, turned out to be ill advised or were absolutely self-destructive behaviors taken solely for the sake of being “bad”.

I was raised by parents who avoided risk at all costs. I vividly remember their attitudes about people we knew who struck out on their own to start their own businesses. They always talked about how irresponsible it was, how risky, how potentially damaging it could be financially. They would never even consider such a radical move when they had a mortgage to pay and kids to take care of. They never discussed the other side of risk. The possibilities. The doors that could open. The sense of fulfillment after following your dreams. Some of the people they discussed were wildly successful. Some of them failed. Some of them failed and then tried again and again and then were wildly successful. My parents stuck with what they believed to be safe. It may be a generational thing too. They were raised in an era where if you were a company man you could retire after 30 years with a gold watch and nice pension. Corporate America isn’t like that anymore. I don’t know anyone my age who has worked for a company for more than five years. I do know several self-employed people my age who have been going strong for more than five years.

When faced with what we perceive to be a risk, it’s really change and the unknown that we fear, isn’t it? I mean, why would we even be considering taking a risk if there were no up-side at all? Whatever our current situation is doesn’t feel risky because it’s known. But that’s really an illusion. Nothing is known. Whatever it is that we have now, that we believe to be safe, can change in the blink of an eye and suddenly become extremely risky, bad for us, or at least different.

I do believe in weighing the real pros and cons of any decision involving change or risk. That is responsible, adult decision making. But when faced with a major decision do we not owe it to ourselves to follow our hearts, follow what we really want, if it makes any sense at all to do so?

These are questions I’ve been pondering lately as I may have a big decision to make soon. If I stick with the status quo I will feel as if I have taken the more cautious and safe route. Again, that’s an illusion. The status quo as I know it today could be completely different tomorrow or next week or next month. Nothing is certain or safe. There are no guarantees in life.

If I take a risk I could gain valuable experience and learn lessons I would not otherwise have learned. I may meet more like-minded individuals and doors previously closed, or not even known to me, could open wide. I could also fall flat on my face. But I could stand right back up again. The reality is that what is now is just as risky as what may be.

Someone I know has taken many risks. Some turned out great, at least for a period of time. Some failed. At least she knows. She will never have to wonder if she passed up an opportunity to do something that she desperately needed to try. She is wiser because of the failures and spurred on to take more risks by the successes. And you know what? She always lands on her feet. She always moves on to something else. She doesn’t give up just because one thing or another didn’t work out. I admire this in her.

Courage in the face of fear of the unknown + confidence in our own abilities + desire to pursue our true wants and needs = the ability to step out of our illusory comfort zones and possibly reach goals we only dreamed could be attained.

What do you think? What risks have you taken or not taken? What were the results? What have you learned?

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I just can’t bring myself to pass up a George Carlin quote when I come across one. I found many other much more eloquent quotes about peace. This one just sums it up so perfectly. I’m not writing about world peace. No, this blog is much more self-involved than that. Besides, I can’t even solve my own problems half the time so I am most definitely not qualified to tackle world peace. I’m in good company though since no one else has ever been able to figure that one out either.

I’m writing about internal fighting. The ever elusive inner peace that I seek. My mind races at alarming speeds, wires crossing, thoughts jumbled. It’s exhausting. I’ve read and studied and meditated and learned all sorts of ways to stop it. I understand much of it on an intellectual level. Some days, some moments, I’m pretty good at practicing these things I’ve learned. Other days, other moments…not so much.

I am overwhelmed by all that I need to do. I am overwhelmed by all that I want to do. I am ashamed for feeling overwhelmed. I see others that seem to have it together, at least more together than I. I remember a time when I thought I had it together but I was only lying to myself and everyone else. I was numb then. I much prefer the good emotions that I’ve allowed myself to experience by regaining feeling. It’s the negative emotions and confusion and uncertainty that sometimes terrify me so much that I almost…almost…long to feel numb again.

With greater self-awareness comes greater responsibility and greater hopes and greater aspirations. It brings greater clarity. It creates more confusion too. While I am clear on many things that I was not back when I was lying about having it all together, there are many things that are still hazy.

I know I worry too much about things I can’t control. I know I worry about things that are irrational. I know that worrying about anything, rational, within my control or not, solves nothing. Sometimes knowing these things, reminding myself over and over of this knowledge…sometimes that helps. Sometimes it doesn’t. It’s a constant fight, a struggle to move all the subconscious baggage out to make room for what I now know but don’t always practice. It doesn’t come naturally.

My own inner voice, passed down to me by people who did not have my best interests at heart but also did not know any better, is a tough fighter. It wants to stick around and suck me back into places I have long ago chosen to leave behind. I have to find compassion for that voice but I resent it. It tells me I’m weak, inept and not good enough. But it’s passive aggressive and insidious. It isn’t direct. It sneaks up on me and suddenly I’m headed towards a place I don’t want to go without even realizing how I got there. Then the struggle begins again.

I need peace. I mean temporary peace. I mean escape. I mean a break. I need some time away from the demands of day to day life to just…be. I need to get to a place where I can let that voice run wild without my obligations interfering and feeding it with fear and worry and doubt. I need to listen to it with the sound of the tide rolling in and out in the background, under the hot sun, sand under my feet. Perspective. Nothing seems so big when staring out into the vast endless ocean. That point where it meets the horizon looks like pure bliss.

The first time I took a solo trip I was escaping too. I was leaving behind a lengthy battle for my marriage (we won) and a job that I hated and new emotions that seemed to consume me. Grief and fear and hope and shock over all that had occurred over the previous year. I was beyond overwhelmed then. The confusion and pain and exhaustion were oppressive that time. And I did return from that trip a different person. But it’s been two years since I’ve seen the ocean and it’s been two years since I ran from those problems and it’s been two years of ups and downs and life and death and it’s been two years of new grief and fear and hope and shock. Hell, I had my world rocked three times today alone. I need a break. It’s less than two weeks away now. I don’t feel the weight of oppression like I did last time. I just feel tired. I need to stop fighting for just a few days. I can’t wait.

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I’ve never gotten into poetry. I’ve read some that I’ve liked. Love is a Dog From Hell by Charles Bukowski is one of my favorites. I prefer gritty and real poems that elicit an emotional response and magically create incredible imagery without stooping to flowery metaphors or sappy sentiments. I like the dark side of poetry.

I’ve never been to a poetry reading. It never really occurred to me that hearing the poem spoken by the poet himself can bring it to life in a way that reading it simply cannot do. That is one thing I learned while on my road trip this weekend.

Ani DiFranco

The focal point of the trip was to attend an Ani DiFranco concert in Des Moines, IA at an indescribably beautiful and intimate venue; The Hoyt Sherman Theater, which is worthy of a blog post in itself. I would happily have spent the evening exploring all the rooms and nooks and crannies of this place. I’m certain there is at least one secret room and/or passageway. But I digress…Ani did not disappoint. That such powerful lyrics and incredible vocals emanate from this adorable, tiny woman blew me away. Her political songs are exceptionally written and performed but it’s her more personal, emotional songs that get me. This was my favorite song of the night:

Having said all that, it was her opening act that really got me. Buddy Wakefield. He’s a poet. But he doesn’t read his poems. He performs them, complete with unrestrained emotion, a partner with incredible musical talent, comedy and even dancing. He truly engages the audience. His unique delivery of his poetry that night was the closest I’ve ever come to anything remotely resembling a religious experience. I cannot do him justice by writing about it. He truly is a force that must be seen and heard to appreciate. My favorite poem of the night:

During his brief performance I was alternately brought to tears elicited by the  recognition of emotions he was expressing and tears of laughter. It was as if he put into words, in an authentic yet entertaining way, many of my own experiences and emotions. Others in the audience seemed to feel the same way. The line that hit me like a ton of bricks; ”…all my eggs were in a basket of red flags…”.

I had to buy a souvenir. I thought I wanted one of his CDs so I could hear his poems in his voice but he had a book too. And he was standing right there. Even if he hadn’t been standing right there I probably would have gone for the book anyway because, well, I love books. But he was standing right there so he autographed my book:

I honestly have no idea what it says. My best guess is,  ”For Cyndi, Thank you fort pinwheel and the yes wine, Buddy Wakefield”. What the hell does that mean?! It doesn’t matter. The book is amazing and I’m happy I got it.

This experience was much more than a poetry reading followed by a concert. It was also a revival, a comedy show, a political rally, a therapy session and maybe even a religious experience.

I have much more to say about our little road trip so until next time….

Thanks for stopping by!

At this moment my usual direct writing style escapes me. I haven’t written a poem since high school. I wasn’t good at it then. This may be no better. It doesn’t matter. She’ll know what I mean. It’s all I can think of to say.

Darkness is familiar

Comfortable

What we know

The first glimpse of light

Is terrifying

It can’t be right

We retreat

We move forward again

Thrust fully into the light

It is blinding

Piercing our souls

Day is not night

Wrong is not right

Lies are not truth

There are no fairly tales

There are no monsters

The only demons are our own

We give them power when we ignore the truth

Frightening at first

A bitter pill to swallow

Made easier with acceptance

Reality proves to be far less painful

Than the darkness of denial and confusion

Liberating

Empowering

The possibilities are endless

You are not alone

You are loved

You are strong

You are brave

I am walking the same path

Let’s walk together

As we always have