Sunday, September 28, 2008

Mrs. Dad

oh, how easy it is.. to let the mind wander into a cavern of brain fucks.

I let my brain slip the past few days, into a spiral of nonsense and sadness... that I guess I interpreted as something I just had to "feel".

It all began on Monday. First of all, I hate Mondays. Yeah, I know you do too.

On Mondays, I look over the refrigerator to see what the week has in store. I suppose every mom has a system. Mine is, when it comes home from school with some sort of date on it…. I stick it on the fridge. This way, I always know where all those notes, more notes, and notes are about what I'm supposed to remember. If it doesn't get to the fridge, I'm lose the piece of paper and totally forget.

So it's Monday morning, and that canary yellow flyer is glaring at me… Cub Scouts Sign Up and Meeting on Wednesday. Sounds harmless enough now in hindsight. But on that Monday morning, that Cub Sounts flyer was glaring at me… and I allowed the ideas of what I thought this event would be like invade my mind with thoughts of anxiety and fear.

Who the heck could be afraid of such things?

I have this internal inner psycho, who feeds on my self-esteem. She took over, and reminded me that being a single mom has a stigma. That as a single mom, I will feel different and left out. I began to allow stress ad fear build up in my mind from Monday Morning onward. In my head, I pictured this Dad Zone, where I would be uncomfortable. My fear of loneliness and insecurities began to come to the surface.

I turned this event (in my mind) into this guy's thing, and that I would be the only mommy there, and it would be incredibly hard for me. I pictured it would be all the husbands of the PTA Mommies – insert the noise Lurch from the Adam's Family groans here…. uuuuuuhhhhhhhhgggggg…..

… and I saw me all alone having to play Mrs. Dad.

I wasted countless minutes and hours letting the ideas of what this upcoming event would be like. And, it began to take over other things in my head too. I began to feel sorry for myself, harp on the woes of my loneliness, feed my cravings for obsession, fear, doubt and insecurity that normally don't factor into my daily life.

In my reality, I allowed this anxiety to turn me into a depressed horrible mess….. and I beat myself to a pulp. Yes, once again, I only hurt myself…. and I prepared myself to have an experience that I hadn't even had yet.

Now that is one big Mind-Fuck!

It was on my way home from work on Wednesday, my stomach in knots, sending "SOS" texts about how upset I was that I was going to be the only mom, that I was going to have to play Mrs. Dad and on and on…. Reaching out to friends, thinking that I am going to cave and fall down into the abyss where there's no turning back.

What brought me out of this chaotic spiral? A simple text message that read….. "So, go put on your Carhartt's and be Mrs. Dad" (thank you Kelly)

I laughed so hard … I realized what a spaz I was being.

So, I prayed. And as asking to have all this pain, anxiety and fear cleared from my mind, and then I hear…."Get Present!"

Oh yeah, it's the present tense.

In this moment, I remember what I'm grateful for, and there's much to be grateful for....my son, my friends, my financial security, my sobriety, my car is up and running, my support network and my innate ability to laugh at the dumbest jokes.

Oh, I was stressed, freaked out, allowing my thoughts to tailspin out of control into a very dark place...

The replies poured in… a funny joke, a vote of confidence, praise for my parenting skills and an anecdote. I'm far from alone. I have a tremendous support network of people who love me, and wouldn't let me flounder out there all by myself … the insane crazy person I am.

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment." - Buddha

I cannot change some circumstances, but I can change my attitude towards them.

A loving neighbor, a funny friend, a not-so-bad ex-husband, a great joke, and a reminder to laugh at my past.... shook me right out of it.

I opted against going all butch and putting on my Carhartts….

But I chose not to get all prettied up either....I threw on jeans and a tee shirt, grabbed the Zman and took him to the Cub Scouts thing.

It wasn't so bad, in fact, it was sorta fun, and nice and easy and something we can do together. I was far from the only mom. Our Pack Mothers are the coolest moms in school. I got to see a few friends, it was actually a lot of fun.

So the punch line…. I'm our 1st Grade Troupe Den Mother! Yeah, go figure.

I placed all these expectations on this hour of my life to come, and I allowed my fear to consume me. At what price? My sanity? My happiness?

I learned a great lesson this week about expectations, fear and insecurity. None of them are permanent and they cause such suffering, there is no need to do that to my head ever again.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

do the right thing













Do the right thing

make the right choice

I've spent so much of my life playing the hustler. Am I am punishing myself for the hustling I've done…

I've spent so much of my life torturing myself for my past.

Do the right thing.

The past couple of days, I've been really thinking about choices I make, mundane to huge. Each choice I make, is there integrity in it? Am I being totally honest? I'm I making the right choice.

Today, I realize, there's a lot of work I need to do about making the right choices.

It is counter intuitive for me to be unabashedly honest. Not really sure I've been right with myself, or totally honest with me.

Do I stand in a place of integrity?

Fighting against myself, it's a lost cause.

Fighting against my past, it is useless.

So here I am, examining my choices, my life. Do I make the right decisions? Am I being the best person I can be and am I being unabashedly honest?

No.

I'm a fraud and a hustler, and have been for so long, that my internal battle is a pile of justifications for the way I want things to go.

I've got a lot of angst today. I'm disappointed that I can't honestly make different choices, well, I don't want to make different choices.

For I know, in my rational brain, if I do make different choices, I will get different results.

Well, there I go, lying again, because I am making different choices. I stand in a place of integrity. I'm questing for patience, tolerance and to stand on the side of Love.

Do the right thing.

Do the right thing.

I'm still trying to figure out what the heck the right thing is.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

l’shanah tova 5769

So, once again, the Jewish New Year is upon us. Can you believe it's 5769, man how time flies.

As the sentimental sap I am, I can't help but reflect back on the years behind me. Going back in the mental time machine… I find myself at Rosh Hashanah 5759(1998)… that is the last time I spent the High Holy Days alone.

I have an indelible memory of that year. I recall sitting way up in the upper balcony of the synagogue, praying by myself. From that vantage point, I could see the entire congregation below. By sitting so far away, I confirmed myself the isolated outsider. I remember that morning vividly.

Wearing a crisp white button down shirt, grey pashmina shall, pin striped slacks, black heels and pearls, I pretended I belonged. In this uniform, I had hoped to be undetected as the former bad girl looking to be saved.

There in the balcony, high up above the crowd, in my own little spot, I sang along and prayed with the group from afar.

I hadn't felt a connection to my spirituality in a very long time.

During the service, my mind drifted off, and I reflected on the year behind me. It was the year I stopped slinging, hustling and quit using. It was the year I begged for god's forgiveness and prayed hard on how important it was for me to change.

Sitting there, separated from the pack, bright sunlight pouring into the windows, I clutched my prayer book and thought hard on wanting to evolve and become the best person I could be.

When services were over. I just stayed there and watched the people hug each other, kiss each other, and wish each other a happy new year. Observing the families, new parents with little babies, grandparents with their broods, I couldn't help but wonder, what the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I alone? When will I have what they have?

I let the people file out so I could have the synagogue to myself. And when they were all gone, I began to pray to my own tune.

"God, please forgive me for all I have done. Help me to be the best person I can be. Take away my pain, and keep me from ever doing blow again. God, don't let me be alone forever, god…..save me….I want to be the best person I can be, I want to change. I'm not slinging anymore, I don't want to punish myself any longer. I've dropped out. I'm good now. I wanna be good now. Save me."

Not sure how long I stayed there, reflecting on the year I had just survived, but I vowed hard to be different, to be good, and prayed that I wouldn't be alone anymore.

It was the first time in a very long time that I actually felt a connection to my HP.

Fast forward to 10 years later to today. It's the first year I'm spending Rosh Hashanah alone since then. I decided not to go to temple this year, but to pray on my own, reflect from the inside out and get right with me in my own spiritual way. Last night, I lit candles, and reflected on the year behind me.

Today, I am filled with gratitude for the gift my life has become.

At this moment, my prayers for the New Year are about compassion, love and wisdom. I've evolved. I am someone else. No more punishment, and I'm not really "alone".

Ten years ago, God was listening, but I didn't realize it.

Today, I don't need to sit with thousands of Jews making up for a year of being unattached, because I AM CONNECTED TO MY SPIRITUALITY with or without the organized religious experience. I meditate & pray every day, and I acknowledge and nurture my spiritual connection in my life.

So…in the spirit of the coming of 5769, I have made a few New Year's promises;
• Take care of ME.
• Expand my Buddhist practice and share with others.
• Quit Smoking (yup got the Chantix)

L'Shanah Tova. May 5769 bring peace to planet earth, offer you wealth of a different kind, health of all kinds and lots of Love to all people.

Amen.

Friday, September 19, 2008

i am so in love, madly so

so last night....as I snuggled up in bed... after a nice day of living... at 11ish… ready to drift off…

When, it happened, that sharp pain.. that grew...and grew... and grew...

shit!

(NOTE: I have kidney stones, old man disease, and yeah, the pain? it hurts WORSE than giving birth.)

Back to the plot.

I haven't had an attack in over a year or something, WTF! Shit. The Pain! Oh no.

The pain grew more and more excruciating. I knew I had to find some back up meds somewhere. I've always got an extra set of pills in the pocket of my handbag. But alas, I've been feeling pretty great and don't really have meds handy. Plus, I've recently moved and far from fully unpacked… I'm going to have to find all my handbags, and dig through all my side little pockets with the hopes of finding some old stash.

So my quest began as I tore through my house in search of relief. I'm fully fiending....

At this point, the pain is unbearable, and the only way to get through it is meds and breathing. Mind you, I have a really, really, really high tolerance to pain. So when I say, it hurts, trust me, it's BAD.

So the spiritual journey through my house begins, tearing this place apart looking for salvation in two little bright red pills in a small plastic sleeve. Beyond searching for a needle in a haystack.

I begin with the bathroom, pulling everything out of the cabinets, tearing through all my make up bags, and just about everything I've got in there. Mind you, I'm a girl, so I've got a lot of places to scour in the bathroom. All sorts of zippered bags with all sorts of girlie goodies.

I began to bargain with god out loud, "please, please, please, the pain is unbearable, I know you can't just take it, so please help me find relief, help me find the cure for this unbelievable pain," and in that moment….CRACK! the sounds of glass hitting the floor.

It's my blue glass pipe, the one that old boyfriend gave me, the one I couldn't give up, the one I couldn't lose, or throw away. The one I saved, just in case….shattered. I've dropped this thing Hundreds of times, never so much as a splinter. There it was, in pieces on the floor. I looked, amazed at the blue glass covered in black resin on one side … on my bathroom floor. I quickly cleared the pieces, chucked it in the garbage and snickered…"well, that's one sort of release from a different pain."

I begin to pray again, as I crawl into my bedroom. Now I've got to find every handbag I've ever owned. I'm dying, it hurts so bad.

Tearing through bags and boxes, I find all sorts of things, photos, clothes, books, love letters, dried flowers, you know, all the bits of crap I've packed away from the past couple of moves that need to be dealt with. But not necessarily at 1-whatever AM while I'm unable to stand up the pain is so bad.

Skipping ahead….

So, my very neat room is now piles of stuff everywhere, every handbag I've ever own strewn out, inspected, turned inside out… I'm a JAP, I have a lot of friggin' handbags…. No meds No relief.

More prayer. I can't go to the hospital, please not that, can't wake the baby, have to find a solution. "GOD HELP ME!"

I begin looking like a fiend in all sorts of places, praying searching, desk drawers, kitchen, and finally, I make it to a jewelry box my son made me in preschool covered in little shells. I pry the top off and look inside.

And at that moment….praying, deeply asking "god, please relieve me of my pain, please please take this horrible pain from me please god…show me something…anything…."

There was my wedding ring.

I sat, calmly looking into the box The frantic freak out halted. I pulled the ring out of the box and held it between my thumb and pointer finger. It was almost like I was looking at it for the first time.

It had been more than two years since I had laid eyes on my ring, I had hidden it from myself, forgotten about it.

It's a lovely white gold band, beautiful piece of jewelry, little diamonds all around it. Classic, a little funky, so very me.

I reached inside my heart, and discovered…. this inanimate piece of metal and diamonds no longer triggered any sort of emotion for me. Its just a piece of jewelry, sparkly, lovely… and mine. Wasting away in this jewelry box because I attached a meaning to it. And yeah, at one time, this piece of metal with diamonds around it had meaning.

As I continue my program and connection to a different place in my spirituality, my attachment to the material becomes less and less important. All I need is enough. This ring, is wasting away in the box. I am no longer attached to it's meaning of the past. Right now, in this moment, it's a beautiful ring, which fits me, suits me and belongs to me.

So as I took a moment to meditate, and take relief in the moment of calm, I thought about how much I love myself. How this pain, like my emotional pain, will pass, with or without drugs. I made a conscious choice to say, "Thank you god."

I put the ring on my right hand and declared - I am in LOVE with myself and I am married to ME. I am enough and all I need. Me and I will get through this and we'll be ok.

I'm a Gemini, I can have a me and an I. Go with it.

Then I went into the bathroom and popped 8 Advils with the hopes that would suffice until I got to CVS in the AM.

I awoke, and there was the ring on my right hand. I sealed the deal with myself. It was really an awesome feeling, to be so clear.

I got Z on the bus, got my ass to CVS and got my meds, phsew.

More importantly, I had this awesome honeymoon day with me.

All day, I looked down at my right hand and smirked. I'm so in love, madly so. I love this person I am, and dig the skin I'm in.

I'm awesome, and couldn't think of a better life partner … well… maybe that's pushing it.

I married myself last night, for better or worse.

I <3 Me

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

the Blog Challenge - Subject "Serenity" (from Mari)

Mari presents... the Blog challenge -

The blog challenge is one word:

Serenity

Take it from there.
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***NOTE: Ok, just to set the record straight, when I originally read Mari's challenge, I thought of one of my favorite TV shows, "Firefly", and was trying to see how I could parallel something from the show to my life in a comic way. I'm not going to do that, sorry folks***

Interesting choice of topic.
========================================================
Serenity

I just finished Acceptance was the Answer in the "Big Book" and there's a line at the end of the chapter I underlined which says;

"...my serenity is inversely proportional to my expectations. The higher my expectations of (my wife) and other people are, the lower is my serenity. I can watch my serenity level rise when I discard my expectations."

Lately, I've been observing my attachment to the expectations in my life from my past and present. In my lifetime, I've had grand plans, with great expectations of where my life would go. As I've grown up, I've grown cynical, and turned into some sort of scientific thinker who refuses to answer the question, "where do you see yourself in 5, 10, etc. years?"

I don't have a frickin' clue!

Not because I was enlightened, but because I've been disappointed... and because things never turned out like I had planned. And, because I was punishing myself as though these things were in my control.

Letting go, means eliminating expectations entirely. It's a daily practice. I remain present. I hang onto what is now. Just for today, serenity has been achieved.

Standing in the time line of my life now, I seek a state of acceptance. I pray to accept the things I cannot change on a daily basis. So let's see if this formula works....

I accept the things I cannot change.
In a state of acceptance, I dispel my expectations.
By eliminating expectations in my life, I achieve Serenity.

Simple enough...

Monday, September 15, 2008

and let....

I am holding my heart in my hands. It's a wet, warm, gushy organ that is also slimy, fragile, slippery and covered in bright red blood. My fingers are wrapped around it applying just enough pressure to maintain its position. In my hands, it's warm, pulsing and alive. If I grip too tightly, the pliable organ gushes out between my fingers and crimson blood spills to the ground. If I hold on too gently, it slides out from my hands.

So I cradle my heart. Oh, so carefully. I hang on to it applying just enough pressure to secure it safely between my palms and fingers. In this manner, I am in control.

In my life, I've learned to be a realist. I see things in the present tense for what they are. It is my intellectual brain that wants to take charge. Oh, I am very smart… painfully so. I see the world as it is and have experienced too much to let myself fantasize and dream the way other people do.

Growing up, reality was presented to me at an early age. Being a city girl, I never had a childhood. I grew up as a woman, not into a woman. There was no choice in the matter, if I were to survive, I'd need to be strong long before most people become actual adults.

I found my escape, in a token…. which took me downtown to a world where I was free.

In my early years, I grew close with the drug addicts and runaways….with them I could identify far more than with the kids who grew up as I did.

Reality and I have fought together. Whenever I had too much of it, I knew there was an escape. I've lost my mind thousands of times, all in an effort to run away from truth. Seeing the world for what it is isn't easy. It's painful to have to know that the world is a cruel harsh place and the people in it need to be kept at a reasonable distance from me.

I see things for what they are. And in this time, I clearly see with no escape.

I have fallen in love. I've fallen into unconditional love, where I'm committed without a shadow of a doubt…until a condition of reality stepped into our romantic space, switching my love off as easily as clicking the switch to a light. Flip. It's done.

I'm not impervious to heart break. I am not impervious to emotion. In fact, I'm acutely aware that I am hyper sensitive. Nonetheless, my realism separates me from other people, providing me a knowledge that protects me from suffering.

As a creative human being, it is easy for me to fantasize, and drift off into a place where things are different. But unfortunately, I can clearly distinguish between my fictional and non-fictional worlds.

The world has surprised me many times. The universe has had many plans for me over the years that took me far from what I expected. Expectations are merely pre-cursors to resentments. It is better to avoid having any such things, or get sucked into a vortex of depression, which would only lead me into an abyss of nothing.

Reality is really not knowing anything. Reality is only what is present. It is the thing right in front of me. So, I stand looking my reality head on. I'm looking right into the eyes of what is.

But what if? What if I made a different choice? What if I allowed my intellectual realism to take a back seat, and fully allow something else to take over? What if I opened my heart to possibility? I could just let go…and thus… end my control completely.

A few days ago, I had a spiritual awakening. I let in truth and light, I allowed myself to see my reality differently. I saw myself with an open available heart linked to a great light that is my HP. And in the moment that I truly let go, I felt a rush so hard. My body reacted as though I had taken a strong drug, but in this instance the drug was Love.

I could make a different choice, and allow Love to guide me through life. In the end, Love is the perfect solution to everything. Maybe it is that I think too much, and if I turned all that thinking off…. a different result would befall me.

So I stand, with my heart in my hands. Curious. Why do I need to hang on so carefully and methodically? I could let go. I could let go of my heart and know that there will be emotions to be felt. Some will be exhilarating, and others will cut deep. I am feeling my emotions for the first time really. In my sobriety, I am stepping across my known reality into a different place… and that is Clarity.

I could open my heart and set free my Love. Let it rock the core of my world and allow the possibility of unknown envelop me.

I deserve to Love and be Loved. I could allow myself to be open, and accept possibility and stop thinking about labels and definitions. My HP loves me unconditionally. This I can feel, even in my darkest pain, there is something greater than me that loves me.

As I handed my will and my life over to my HP….my heart must go with it.

I'm standing with my heart in my hands.

I let go….and let……

Thursday, September 11, 2008

never forget

as I awake from a very uncomfortable night....
as I think of my petty problems and my heartbreaks and issues....
as I suffer in my concerns about the little bits of my life....
I awake...to a child crying....it's 5am...
he crawls into bed next to me, warm and whimpering....
he presses up against me for comfort... afraid of his bad dreams...
he sleeps, while I lay awake, wrestling down the thoughts in my mind...

then I look at my clock
I am reminded of what today's date is....

seven years ago....at this time... people were on their way to the airport, getting up for work, putting on a tie, working out at the gym, boarding planes...not knowing the fate that would befall them later that day.

seven years ago, we were in bed...snuggling and comfortable. we were filled with excitement about the future and the big choices we made for it just days hours before. the future had seemed so bright, our plans so adventurous and exciting.. plans that would never happen, a life we didn't have....

today, I remember... getting the call from my employee screaming that she refuses to go to work because a plane just hit one of the Twin Towers. I remember jumping out of bed, naked, just having been with my husband, switching from joy to something fearful and terrifying.

each year, the memory returns, of a day I often try to explain to people who weren't here.

we witnessed everything from our back windows of our apartment in Brooklyn. from the streets. from the little coffee shop around the corner of our house. plumes of toxic smoke crawling over our house....people coming over the bridge, covered in white and black dust, carrying their shoes, looking like Zombies, smoke plumes filling the air with death and destruction.

there was a girl sitting next to me, I held her as she repeated over and over in shock covered in soot...."Wait, where am I?"

the chaos, the filth, the mayhem, the displaced souls, death, uncertainty, war had come to lower manhattan, to my back door.

Yes, today is September 11th. We are supposed to go on with our lives today, act as though it doesn't effect us. Show "them" that they haven't paralyzed us.

today is the day I ask, did this Osama Bin Laden guy really do this? and if so, why the hell didn't they get him in his cave yet? what the fuck are we doing in Iraq? why aren't we finishing the job we had to do in Afghanistan? why hasn't someone impeached George Bush? why, why, why, why..... why....

if you believe in the unknown, they you will believe me when I tell you that my son... his soul is a reincarnation of one of the souls who died that day.

so as I pull him close, and thank god for the miracle he is.... I must always remember how he got here. he was not meant to go and come back so quickly. I am blessed he is mine. I am blessed he is here, but at who's expense?

people weren't meant to lose children, husbands, friends, family and loved ones that day.

seven years ago, I was brought to my knees at the corner of Pacific Street and Bond in Brooklyn, where I cried alone...I can still recount the feeling of pain as my body collapsed underneath me and my knees came in contact with the hard filthy pavement....where a homeless guy picked me up.... in tears and bleeding, hobbling down the street to get home...mentally and physically lost...

the world, as we knew it, as I knew it, my life, was forever altered that day...and no, I do not fully believe that this was God's Plan, not in the slightest.... yet, I have to believe...I don't know what to believe...

here I am... a million worlds away from that day... but.... I will never forget.

Never Forget.