"Raindrops keep falling on my head"......

It's raining today.  

Some days I feel like walking in the rain.  Walking in the rain can be like taking a look back at all that you have learned.  

This morning, I read through my blogs of the past three years and that's exactly what it felt like -- a walk in the rain, carrying no umbrella with raindrops "falling on my head".

My blog post on Humanness especially made me stop and ponder this morning.  This time it brought out a lesson is in a different context.  

At that time when I wrote on humanness, I was focusing on accepting my OWN humanness.  Being okay with myself as I walk along this bumpy, rocky, and sometimes hilly journey we call life.  Being okay with the fact that sometimes I don't walk "well".  Being okay with the fact that I stumble, choose the wrong footing, fall, and have to struggle to get back up again.  Being okay with the fact that I am not perfect.  It was about accepting myself and realizing that being human doesn't make me a bad person.  It helps me to accept myself as I learn and grow and make mistakes.  Accept MYSELF.

Today, as I was reading those words and walking in "the rain" of my thoughts, more realizations started forming, but this time it wasn't about my humanness.  It was about the humanness and acceptance of OTHERS.

Others = The people I love -- the ones in my tribe, my circle of acquaintances, and my family are all HUMAN!

In being human they are like me.  They stumble, and fall, and struggle, and choose words and actions unwisely, offend, and get stuck....just like me. 

They want to be accepted by their circle....just like me.

They want to be heard and loved....just like me.

They want to feel the sun on their face and feel free and at peace....just like me.

At times they might not be willing or ready to let certain things go yet....just like me.

They might need a friend to walk with....just like me.

Accepting those humans around me is just as important as accepting myself.  In fact, I found it to be harder because for some reason at times it is my nature to hold them to higher standards than I do myself.  For some reason, it's easy to believe that those humans around me should learn their lessons faster, be kinder,  struggle less, believe in themselves more, and  be this perfectly perfect person.... unlike me.  

Why should I believe that their journey of humanness is so different than mine?

It is wrong of me to think so, and when I can see my humans -- ALL humans with that frame of mind, then I believe it starts to set me free.  My spirit and mind become more open, and I start to feel more at peace within myself.  It's like giving them a "Get out of jail free" card from the Monopoly game I played long ago.  In my spirit and thoughts I extend grace to them as they live in their humanness. 

Extending grace and accepting people, however, doesn't mean the logical consequences of actions and words (positive or negative) go away.  

What it does mean is that my frame of mind in reference to them is different. 

It mean that at times it is easier to set down the "victim" hat and move forward in my own humanness.  It means that the old anxiety and strife when I think of a human that has wronged me doesn't bubble up as often...or to the same extent.  

It means that in my mind I can be healthy -- even if they are not.

No matter what

I've not written for a while.  Sometimes the scope of the path doesn't allow for times of quiet reflection.  Sometimes the rocky terrain of the journey forces you to pay attention to the path at hand and reflection is forced to wait.  My journey has been like that for me in the past few months.  When that happens, however, I long for times to sit and process.  My head is full of stories, and my heart is full of emotion.  The two don't always jive, honestly, my heart and my head.  It's on days like this, where I just HAVE to process, that I find a place to sit on the path no matter what is going on around me, and no matter where I am on the path.

I choose to sit and think and feel.

At times it is overwhelming all that comes to the surface.  It is almost as if I have my feelings chart in front of me, and the assignment is to circle what I am feeling at this moment.  As I contemplate the chart, I end up circling almost every feeling in every column!

So I sit and think and feel and try to sort those feelings into truths, and drown out the stories that my mind and heart tell me which aren't true.

Being honest with myself is a gift I give to myself -- No matter what.

To be or not to be...a snake.

Okay,  literally I am shocked to admit this  -- I have come to the conclusion I'd rather be a snake than a butterfly.  Let me tell you why.

I liken my personal journey as a growth process.   I have so much to learn not only about me, but about those around me and how I am in relationship to them.  I learn something new daily and am trying very hard to put into practice what I am learning.  I love learning about all kinds of things, but this learning curve at times has been so steep I have needed ice climbing cleats!  I look at it as a never-ending process for I will never learn everything and that's okay.  The point is, I enjoy the process of learning.  I enjoy the "aha" moment and the understanding it brings to my awareness.  Learning makes me feel alive.  Boredom doesn't exist on my path.

Anyway, back to the snake and the butterfly.  Paul and I have visited the Butterfly room in the Houston Museum of Science (VERY cool and worthwhile if you are ever in the area) a few times now.  You walk into the room and there are butterflies flitting everywhere!  There are all colors, shapes and kinds of butterflies all over the room -- swooping, resting, flitting, teasing.  It is a wonderful place and you can sit in there for hours on end just watching them fly all around.  You see chrysalises  hanging from leaves and know that more are on their way into the world.  It's a beautiful, fun place to be.

Two weeks ago I was weeding my flower beds and was surprised by a garden snake slithering in the grass next to me.  I jumped up and said -- "Well, hello there -- you just stay on your side and I'll stay on mine." -- to which he curled up under the rose bush and did promptly that.  I kept on weeding -- keeping my eye on him.  Also that week I had found a couple baby snakes in the basement.  (Yikes!)  Now they were smaller than the big snake, but I am a firm believer that all snakes belong outside, not inside the house.  I quickly call out to one of my snake charmers (Paul, Isaac, or Joel) who come to my rescue by picking up the snake and throwing it outside.  (Phew!) 

Being an outdoorsy kind of gal I have come across my share of snake skins.  They always freak me out a little bit, but I understand that the snake just doesn't fit in its coat anymore and must shed it if it's to keep growing.

On the other hand, the butterfly does almost the same thing by coming out of its chrysalis but with one difference.  The butterfly gets one shot at growth, lives for about two weeks and then dies.  The snake, however, keeps shedding when it grows and lives on to keep on growing.

My friends, I don't want a one shot chance at growth no matter how beautiful the change might make me.  I want to be like the snake who sheds the old dead habits and leaves them behind only to keep on growing and learning and shedding.

So, what would you rather be like? 

Are you sure you want to go there?

I've always loved horses.  My aunt and uncle who lived next door to me as a child had a paint pony named "Apache".  He was fat and sassy and I loved going to visit him in the pasture.  My cousin Jodi had a horse -- a beautiful quarter horse -- and between those two horses  -- my dream of owning my own horse thrived.  After seeing the film Black Beauty as a kid, all I wanted to do was ride bareback down the beach on a horse -- playing -- enjoying the partnership.  I imagined it would be like flying.  Those dreams didn't die the older I got.

On the drive home from our honeymoon in New England two years ago, Paul and I excitedly started horse shopping.  By the time we reached home -- we had bought Ryker.  Two months later we added Casanova to our small herd -- and thus my dream of becoming a horse owner came true.   Thank you, Paul!!!

Since then, my horses are teaching me a lot about communication.

Horses are smart creatures that don’t usually talk back.   They listen -- and if you give them clear instructions and they understand what is expected of them -- they usually comply. 

Now, there are circumstances where they might not comply immediately -- as in they get distracted or are in pain -- but generally they will do what you ask.  The key is -- you must speak the same language.

I have found that the romantic idea of hopping on a horse and riding off into the sunset is not a true picture of horse ownership.  It takes time to learn the language -- for them to understand and for you to be clear.

So, I am learning to be clear in my communication.  I am learning to make sure my hands are giving the same signal as my leg.  I am learning that my mood sends signals -- just like facial expressions and body language does to my human partner.  If the signals are mixed -- my leg says go and my hands say stop -- it's no wonder the horse is confused and sends signals to me saying, "Hey, get your act together.  What is it that you really want?"

Consistency is key to successfully understanding one another.

As I think about my communication skills with the humans that I love, knowing what I am learning from my horses, I must ask myself questions in regards to how I communicate with them.   Am I sending a clear message of my wants and needs or am I expecting them to read my mind?  Am I expecting them to remember what I really want -- and am I patient with remind them if they forget?  Am I listening to them -- to make sure we are understanding one another?  Am I listening for their signals?  Do I acknowledge that they might be distracted because of pain of some sort or other stimuli? Am I listening to their needs and feelings?  Am I working hard at this every day or am I expecting them to do all the work?

Communication -- clear, patient communication leads to understanding.  Understanding leads to feeling connected.  Feeling connected leads to feelings of intimacy which fosters an environment where love can deepen and grow. 

Yes, that’s where I want to go.

Out of focus?

I love the picture above.  Let me tell you why.  I think the pond on our farm is one of the most relaxing places to hang out.  You hear the breeze blow through the pines, the birds dive around the water looking for bugs and food -- and you occasionally hear the fish plop back into the water as they make a break for the sunshine.   There are no chores at the pond (Okay-- I take that back.  The dock could use a good sanding) that cannot be overlooked for the moments that you spend there. 

The main reason I love the picture though is not just because of its restful setting.  The main reason I love this photo because of how the photo is focused on the foreground.  The photo reminds me -- sometimes the scope of my thinking and perspective is all about what I focus on.

I must admit, lately I've been in a dry spell that has zapped my creative thinking.  Sometimes the ADL's (activities of daily living) of life overwhelm the creative energy that one can have.  It's spring at the farm -- which means there is grass and pastures to be mowed, gardens to plant, weed and tend, and flower beds to cultivate and mulch added to the normal activities of horse stall cleaning, grooming, groundwork and riding, pigeon breeding season and loft management as well as household chores, parenting and feeding my flock.  :)    I am not complaining about any of those activities I just listed for I love each one  (really, I truly don't mind the mowing or stall cleaning) -- it's just that my full life just gets a bit fuller when the weather is beautiful and there is much to be done outside.  I love being outside.

The dry spell surfaces when I don't take the time to be still with my own thoughts, a piece of paper and pencil.  The dry spell comes when my focus is on all the doing and the focus is clear and sharp in that area.   The dry spell stays when I forget that I have the power to zoom in -- or out.  My days add up to the choices I make each day and when I forget to make the choice to focus on creativity -- that is when the creative oasis seems far away.

I once heard the idea that "Good things keep you from the greatest thing."  I have come to tweak and expand that quote a bit -- for my own healthy living.  I say, "Good things can keep you from excellent things." 

None of those things in my list of ADL's are bad.  In fact, they are all good things.  They help out the family and bring me joy in doing them.  However, when I do good things -- and leave no room for expansion -- those good things can keep me from perhaps what might become excellent.  The focus that is now on the foreground -- might be missing something wonderful in the background.

I know if you've read my blog at all in the past two years you find that I think a lot about focus and perspective.  I am growing in that area as I journey along life's path.  I think our perspectives and what we choose to focus on lends us power.  Not power over people -- but power over our lives.  We see choices that we might never have seen before -- or see the ability to make decisions that we never thought we could make.   When I realize there are choices in my journey, it makes me feel liberated and opens up paths I might never have noticed.

The beauty of focus. 

Now do you see why I like the photo?

I can see clearly now....

Today I had my eyes dilated.  

One thing you probably don't know about me is that when I was a toddler I had an eye injury that almost took my sight in my right eye.  Every eye doctor who has looked in my eye since that time has said the same thing, "WOW!  Look at that!  What happened to you?  THAT'S AMAZING -- you are one lucky girl that you can even see anything out of that eye."  They go on and on as they look at the scars and pigment floating inside my eye and the jagged scar across the outer lens of my eye.  Today was no different.

You see, I have vision in both eyes -- not good vision, but I am able to see.  I am GRATEFUL for corrective lenses for without them my world would be one big blur.  When things are blurry and out of focus constantly you end up second guessing yourself, your judgment, your thoughts -- basically everything around you.  Your depth perception is non-existent -- field of vision -- peripheral vision -- nothing is clear.  Your world turns gray and dark as you try to feel your way around -- counting steps -- choosing the familiar.

Today as I stepped out of the ophthalmologist's office all I could think was WOW!  It's a bright, bright world out here! I had to head back into the building to find my sunglasses in my bag, put them on and then head out once again into the brightness of the day.  The thing is today is actually a very cloudy day.  No sunshine, no shadows -- just heavy cloud cover. Most people would say it's a gray overcast day -- yuck.  I might even have said that -- as I went into the office.  Coming out of the office, however, my mindset had completely changed.

Isn't that funny how a single event can change your perspective?  

Maybe you had three choices -- and now only two -- and what was less in your perspective just became more.  Maybe you were almost run over -- and your perspective on life shifted so that you are thankful for living one more day.  Maybe what used to be important -- just faded into the background as you are choosing to live in this moment -- not past moments.  

I know I have spoken a lot about perspective.  That's because mine is changing.  I hope you will bear with me while I share.

There is so much in one's life that can change in an instant.  We tend to gravitate towards those "events" in our lives:  the close calls; the missed calls; the opportunities not taken.  We focus on what could have been rather than what IS.  Today, I want to choose to be grateful for what IS.  Not only do I choose to be grateful for what IS --but WHO is.

I am grateful for those who choose to be present with me.  I am grateful for those who choose to show me that they love me and work to include me in their circle of influence.  I am grateful for those people who respond to my friendship, laugh with me, and spend time with me.  Being grateful for those around me helps keep my focus outward, but I am also learning to be grateful for me.  

Me.  

My thoughts, my feelings, my weirdness.  Me.

Some people would call that narcissism.  Some would call it selfishness.

Others call it self-love.  Positive self-esteem.  Positive regard for oneself.

See, I'm learning to regard myself as someone who counts.  Someone who has worth.  Someone who has value and who might not be like E.F. Hutton, but who might have a nugget here and there to share.  I am learning that there is nothing wrong with thinking such things or saying such things because I still know where I came from and who my Maker is.  Trust me -- learning positive self-talk is not an easy thing for me.  I struggle with self-love.  It's much easier to love others than myself.

I think I need to remember to look at myself through dilated pupils every day.  I need to remember those close calls, but not stop there.  I need to let them open a world of not only what IS, but WHO IS.

The VOID

These words crossed my FB feed one day from the Healing Hugs web page.  Loss.  It comes in all sizes and packages and isn't always about people.  Sometimes we lose things that represent memories in our journey -- those tangible symbols of  a time that was memorable:  good or bad.  Feelings of loss can arrive after realizing the loss of losing something that makes us feel good, like a favorite pair of shoes or jacket.  Feelings of loss happen when connection is lost between two people or pets.  It doesn’t matter what the type of relationship.  There is a void where the connection once was and it's hard to know what in the world to do with that empty space the void creates.

Truly, I don't think the reason for the loss matters.  There could be many different reasons for losing connection.   Temporary loss of connection could be as simple as losing cell phone connection in the middle of a conversation.  It could be the loss you feel when your child goes on a weekend trip or to summer camp; or if your partner is deployed and you know it's going to be a long season of multiple months away causes feelings that connection is lost.  Maybe you stay connected occasionally with friends or family and you haven't heard from them in weeks or months -- a longer period of time than usual -- and that creates a feeling of loss.  There are many other scenarios -- fill in one that comes to your mind that you have experienced.  A temporary loss can be devastating, but one thing differs from permanent loss -- there is the hope and knowledge  that the loss of connection will end.  Your child will come home from camp or the weekend away;  your partner will come home (hopefully safely) at the end of deployment; family members or you yourself will pick up the phone and text or call or write and connection resumes again sometimes even stronger than before.

Long-term loss feels different to me.  It has an underlying foundation of hopelessness.  In terms of long-term loss -- one can hold out hope for a season and sometimes the season is long -- months, years, decades and sometimes a lifetime.  There is hopelessness, but yet a mustard-grain seed of faith keeps some spark alive that things will change and connection will be restored.  This is a hard place to be.  Connection takes two entities and if one is unwilling or unable or the connection didn't mean as much to them as it did to you,  it might be easier for them to move on ahead and fill the space that you once occupied in their mind, their heart, their spirit than for you to do so.  This particular waiting room can be a painful place to reside.  Wondering during the season of un-connectedness can be excruciating.    "What-if land" can be filled with fear, suffering, loss, mourning, and even anger.  Feelings of not being enough are ever present on the surface.   Frustration, anger, and sadness can flow in and out of your emotions when certain memories are triggered and yet, if good memories come to mind, joy and sadness coexist in a way that befuddles the mind. 

Permanent loss is devastating in that there no longer is any hope.  There is no light of reconciliation or re-connection.  Only time can blunt the sharpness of the loss and the time frame is different for everyone depending upon the deepness of your connection.  In this place of darkness, it takes great effort to acknowledge the loss and even more effort to acknowledge the permanence of it.  This path in the shadows of one's journey can change your life.  Some get stuck in this place.  Some stay stuck for awhile and then begin to take tiny shuffle-steps forward out of the darkness and into the shadows of memories gone by.  Over time, one might move forward into the sunshine even just a little bit by focusing not on the loss, but the joy of what once was -- the connection  between two beings that filled you with happiness and joy for even but a part of your journey.  To celebrate the relationship that lasted only for awhile is a gift you can give to yourself.   Acceptance of the closed door named hope is essential to moving out of the shadows and into the light.

 As the quote says above, one of the hard things about loss is what do you do about the empty space the loss of connection leaves behind?  Some people don't want to fill the emptiness.  They feel that focusing on the space that once was filled is a way of keeping the memories alive.   It might seem as though hope is there -- even though the knowledge of reality says differently.  Denial keeps your feet from moving in any direction.  The fight to keep that sacred space empty can cause physical, mental, emotional and spiritual  issues.  Other people in our lives might not be able to understand why keeping the space free of anything else is so important to you and it could wear on other relationships.  

For others, filling the space might be easier.   They just get busy.  They get busy doing whatever it is their calendar can hold.  For some, they might try and throw meds in the hole or drugs at the space or pretend it doesn’t exist.  Some try to sleep it away.  The space can be filled.  It is our choice to choose what to put into the void.  I'm not saying this is easy by any stretch.  It's not.   Sometimes we don't choose arbitrarily.  Sometimes life helps us choose.  Either way, hopefully some day we can look back on that space of connection and name it and cherish it and turn our face toward the sun and life forward in our journey.

Does filling the space mean forgetting?  Absolutely not.    One perspective is that we are lucky to have had experienced something so beautiful along our path and that is why it is so hard to say good-bye.  It is possible to celebrate the lost relationship and fill the space they once held with healthy reminders or activities or new relationships that foster taking care of yourself during this time.    Self-care while spending time in the void is critical to moving ahead into the sunlight.  There also might be others in your sphere of influence who are fellow "void-dwellers" -- those people who are experiencing loss of their own.  Together you might find a safe place to reminisce and celebrate or express the gamut of emotions loss brings.  

Our life journey will bring losses of many types.  My hope is that we can realize that we are not alone on the path.  We just might need to look around for others who have emerged in the shadows or for those who have stepped into the sunlight of their own path to help. 

COMPASS POINT:  There are community groups called Griefshare that focus on paths of loss.   Perhaps they would be of help at this time in your journey.  Here is the link for more information:  www.griefshare.org.