Yay for all of us.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Friday, June 21, 2013
Home.
OK- I'm officially Slowing. Way. Down. And I'm at home- in Ventura, spending some much needed time with my father. It's been too long, and I need this. And him.
And he cracks me up. He's not the greatest housekeeper. His philosophy on, for example, cleaning the toilet is "well, we're just going to crap in it anyway, so why bother?" He has the same thoughts on locking his car door. He kind of has a point, although I won't adopt those life mantras.
And here's our conversation following the drive home (and a pit stop at In 'n Out Burger):
Me: I forgot my bathing suit, so need to go to Target.
Dad: OK, keys are on the table.
(about an hour later)
Me: I've got the bathing suit, so now I'm going to go for a drive along the beach. That OK?
Dad: Sure.
Me: I'm not sure when I'll be back.
Dad: OK, see you whenever.
I love that man.
A couple of hours later, I come back with Starbucks in hand, flowers for my dad's makeshift alter for my mom, and we are now sitting down to watch ultra liberal TV. Maybe I'll go out later. And he'll just pass over the keys again.
More importantly, home is a healing space for me. It wasn't always like that. I used to find home oppressive and couldn't wait to leave. And I rarely came home once I left. But then I hadn't found myself yet. And I had no clue who I was. And I was angry at my parents. For being emotionally distant- for drinking too much- for fighting.
And my sisters were pissed at me for leaving. For a long time.
I think they have forgiven me. And I've forgiven my parents. Because I (and they) have found ourselves.
And now I come to this space for rest. And for love. And for healing. And I will spend time with myself, playing my guitar, and swimming, and walking on the beach, and reading, and thinking about my future.
And I will relish in walking with my sister along the shore, and getting pedi's, and eating ice cream at the harbor.
And I will cherish this time with my father- watching liberal TV and pocketing his car keys.
Because I'm home.
And he cracks me up. He's not the greatest housekeeper. His philosophy on, for example, cleaning the toilet is "well, we're just going to crap in it anyway, so why bother?" He has the same thoughts on locking his car door. He kind of has a point, although I won't adopt those life mantras.
And here's our conversation following the drive home (and a pit stop at In 'n Out Burger):
Me: I forgot my bathing suit, so need to go to Target.
Dad: OK, keys are on the table.
(about an hour later)
Me: I've got the bathing suit, so now I'm going to go for a drive along the beach. That OK?
Dad: Sure.
Me: I'm not sure when I'll be back.
Dad: OK, see you whenever.
I love that man.
A couple of hours later, I come back with Starbucks in hand, flowers for my dad's makeshift alter for my mom, and we are now sitting down to watch ultra liberal TV. Maybe I'll go out later. And he'll just pass over the keys again.
More importantly, home is a healing space for me. It wasn't always like that. I used to find home oppressive and couldn't wait to leave. And I rarely came home once I left. But then I hadn't found myself yet. And I had no clue who I was. And I was angry at my parents. For being emotionally distant- for drinking too much- for fighting.
And my sisters were pissed at me for leaving. For a long time.
I think they have forgiven me. And I've forgiven my parents. Because I (and they) have found ourselves.
And now I come to this space for rest. And for love. And for healing. And I will spend time with myself, playing my guitar, and swimming, and walking on the beach, and reading, and thinking about my future.
And I will relish in walking with my sister along the shore, and getting pedi's, and eating ice cream at the harbor.
And I will cherish this time with my father- watching liberal TV and pocketing his car keys.
Because I'm home.
Monday, June 17, 2013
First day free.
Today was my first day free. And it was. Totally free.
I spent the first part of my day in my pj's- putzing around the house- my dad would be proud- he is an excellent putzer.
I went to my 'office' (Starbucks), the hardware store, installed countertops, and put cabinets together.
More putzing.
And I did some work on my new LLC. I never realized how much there is to do around this kind of thing- update the website (not live yet), register my LLC and trade name, create the LLC, order checks/credit cards, and make my first appointment with a new client. WOWZERS. Definitely not putzing.
And then I took a nap. A good one-drool and all.
And my day was fantastic. Truly. I was energized with my work, and excited about the future. And filled with this sense of abundance. And freedom.
More putzing to come in the next weeks.
And more freedom.
Friday, June 14, 2013
Falling together.
My therapist told me today that you have to fall apart first in order to fall together. There is a lot of truth in that. At least for me. In our session, I talked with her about the enormous changes currently unveiling themselves to me- house remodel, quitting my job, starting a new venture, travel plans, more tattoos... Basically embracing life and finally living.
And during our conversation, she reminded me of where I have been in my past- afraid to take risks, petrified to let go, battling with depression and lack of confidence. My divorce, losing a parent, being fired from a job, struggling with parenting.
Then there was my back.
Yes, I fell apart. Big time.
Then there was my back.
Yes, I fell apart. Big time.
And I'm grateful for those experiences. Because each hurt, each struggle, each letting go meant that I could say goodbye to those pieces that didn't fit, and pick up a new shiny piece of me.
And it feels incredible. And freeing. And maybe I will find more shiny pieces along the way- a piece that allows me to love again, a piece that lets me walk through this life with wonder and joy, and a piece that allows me to revel in my friends and family and new opportunities.
So yes, I guess the falling apart does need to happen.
Because I'm loving this falling together.
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