Sunday Scribblings- Second Chance

There are a few things that I would do differently

if proposed with a "second chance". If it were really possible,

and the oppportunity presented itself- how could I say no.

How could I say no to righting the one wrong thing in my

life that will always be there inside me, tearing my apart

at times, and makes me questions my value.

How could I once again make that bad decision?

However, would that second chance me going back

in time and doing it all over again. Then I really would

have to say "NO". Because all that has been created would

most likely cease to exist.

We all get second chances at times. I have a second chance to

finally finish my degree. And it is a second chance I am taking

seriously. It is something that I will work on with all my might.

I've had second, maybe third, or fourth chances at happiness.

Thank goodness. I fortunately didn't need that second chance

at getting my driver's liscence when I was 16, as I passed the first time.

But it sure is nice to know that that 2nd chance card is there waiting,

just in case.

I know that I will not get a second chance at raising my kids. I know

that there are friendships and relationships that are long gone.

I think with age and maturity, one comes to realize that although having

second chances is a nice safety net for some occasions, life is just really

too short to rely on them.

Sunday Scribblings- In the News...

It can be like a poison.

The news.

Oh sure the front man is always very beautiful, colorful, white teeth and all.

But what is underneath that glam is...Violence, tragedy and controversy

sensationalized

by liberal (I can say this- i am a liberal myself) reporters

who are just trying to make a story.

So I usually skip the news.

I do not get the newspaper- our cities paper really sucks!

I do not live in a vaccum though.

I do get snippets of the latest headlines.

Usually the headline is all you need.

Not the whole story.

Because- you never know whose story you are getting.

And you rarely get the whole story.

I find that when I watch the news, I feel as though

they are talking to me like I am an idiot. The content of the story

is usually not complete. After all home many minutes are they

allowed? I am always left wondering, ok what are they not telling me.

One of the local newstations wanted to interview us at work last week

about major construction that is taking place on the road in front of our store.

As a team we had already discussed the need to be positive about

it- after all there is nothing we can do to change it! (Well and now that they've started

we would really like them to finish). After all we can get any customer to our store. There

are still many roadways that are navigatable.

So they set up their camera and interviewed my boss.

And she was wonderful, positive and very very optimistic.

Well it was a very very short interview. As a reporter where do you go from there.

What a story killer. No controversy, no anger, no tears.

So her clip was not on the news. Edited out. But there were a couple of

other store owners who were more emotional about the construction and so- that is the way the

story went.

What bothers me is that the story was complete. They had already made up their mind what the issues would be, what the slant would be and then just went searching for interviews that would support their theories. The construction does not affect them in the least. But they decided they needed to ruffle feathers-

So that is my take on the news and most journalism.

Oh- and do not get me started on Rush Limbough. (Remember I am a liberal at heart)

Sunday Scribblings- Deepest, Darkest

I didn't go to church today.

It's holy week.

I never make it to church during holy week.

But I have a second grader.

A second grader who makes his first

communion in 2 weeks.

A second grader who deeply believes.

So I feel as though I should be going for him.

I send him to a catholic grade school.

Want him to have the background, the teachings, the celebrations.

It has been good for him. It has been good for our family.

Sometimes they teach him things that I do not understand, or agree with.

Such as they cannot say the A-word.

A-word, what the H-E-L-L is that.

You know Alleluia.

Cannot say that word during lent.

So now it has become a bit of a thrill to say A-word.

I really do not get it.

Making a word that should have such a beautiful meaning into a "dirty" thing to say.

So I tried to explain to him that his mom and dad really do not believe that you cannot say that word during lent. That we think it is a beautiful word that can be said whenever someone feels the need to praise God.

But he won't budge.

He has many arguments as to why I am a bad for saying Alleluia during lent.

(Not all his arguments make sense. But he's trying his best to convince me to believe his way). So I guess I asked for it- you know sending him to a parochial school and all.

I surrender for now.

But getting back to missing mass on palm Sunday.

I do not like lent- I know I am not really supposed to "like" lent.

But I have a hard time with the darkness

that is infused into the lively traditions that endear me to church.

I do not like that we do not sing.

I do not like that the beautiful stained glass windows that allow beautiful morning sunshine into the church are covered.

I do not like that the crosses are put away until Easter Sunday.

I do not like it.

Maybe it is easier for me to forget the pain and suffering that Jesus went through.

Maybe it is easier for me to walk away from the gruesome truth of history.

I have felt the love of Jesus. I have felt his hands upon me.

I have felt his unconditional love. And I have felt his forgiveness.

And in my deepest darkest times of pain and loneliness I have surrendered to him, knowing that the pain I felt could not even begin to compare to what he went through on the cross.

And during those time, he eased my pain. He answered my prayers. He gave me his love.

Lent confuses me. This is the time that we actually should be soaking in the light, studying the scriptures and praising all that he is and all that we will be.

We cannot re-create those deepest, darkest days of history.

Self reflection does not need to be created for spiritual growth.

I lived my deep dark days. I denied myself joy and beauty and love.

I experienced that.

He saved me.

And I refuse to re-enter the darkness, even for well meant church rituals.

So I will quietly sing my Alleluia's

(because I love my son enough to not cause him anymore distress

over his mothers hopeless beliefs)

Alleluia

Sunday Scribblings- Superstitions

I am not superstitious.
Not me.
Never.

1. When reading I will not stop if the next chapter is 13 or 14. This is a recent habit, and I do not know where it came from. Why 14 you ask- well because I will have read 13 chapters, like the 13th floor that doesn't exisit in any hotels. So I am not sure which chapter would be the ... well you know. I find this terribly funny because 13 is actually my lucky number.
2. When driving past a cemetary- I have to force myself not to hold my breath. And just between you and me, sometimes I hold it anyway.
3. I do not walk under ladders. Ever.
4. I always wear my necklace with my charm of the virgin Mary when we take long road trips. Ok, I wear it on short road trips as well. And... I pretty much wear it always, unless I have to dress up for something and put on some pearls or wear a cute funky summer necklace. But as soon as I am back home and remember, the charm necklace goes back on.
5. I do not like to take baths or showers when I am home alone. Of course sometimes hygiene wins out and it is a must... just kidding. I think it's a PSYCHO thing.
6. When I was a little girl, my babysitter let me stay up and watch scary movies. Dracula and the old werewolf ones still stand out in my mind. So growing up, I figured no one could bite me in the neck if they could not see it, so I slept with the blankets curled up around my neck. Sometimes I still do. Habit maybe....
7. I would definately throw a pinch of salt over my shoulder more often, but I can never remember which one the right or the left. And you just would not want to get that one wrong or I am sure something bad would happen. Wouldn't it?
8. I love garlic and if necessary I would wear it.
9. Black cats do not bother me in the least. Except if I were walking at night all alone.
10. I prefer the basement door shut. My cat does not however, it's where we keep the liter box. So I have taught him to find me when he needs to go. And he does. Of course we open the door when we are not home.
11. At night, if everyone else is asleep, I avoid mirrors, reflection, etc.
12. Never step on a crack if I can help it.
13. Oh no, can't end on 13.
14. Can't end on 14 either.
15. Oh this one feel good, safe good, yeah.
16. Hmm. I would never open an umbrella inside. Does that count, because it actually does not make much sense to open an umbrella inside, they usually do not fit through the doorway.
17. See a penny pick it up. Always.

So like I said -not superstitious. Definately not obsessive compulsive. Just good ole normal behaviour. Right?

Is it bad luck to publish a post without a photo? Just curious.

Sunday Scribbling- Kissing

Giving up my past, Vol. I, Chapter 2

Kissing you Good-bye

You have long since moved from my heart.

(My heart barely remembers you..)

However, you are still at times

painfully in my head. Oh, don't flatter

yourself, it is not actually you in my head,

you physcially, again, my head barely remembers

what you looked like.

But memories of you and things you did and said to me.

Cruel things.

Very Cruel things.

I have not completely let them go.

I am still surprised

that they actually happened - to me.

When I remember them,

it is as though I am watching

a television program.

Watching from the outside,

someoneelse's experiences.

Watching.

I would like to tell her all that I know now.

(That you really never loved her)

I would like to tell her how to let you go.

(That even though I loved you- this is not how love should be).

I would like to help her move on.

(That she will find someone better.)

I would like to tell her she is worthy and special and loved

and yes- does deserve better.

(That you tell her all those bad things about her, so that you feel better

about yourself)

I would like to tell her that it is not she who needs to change, she is wonderful

just the way she is.

(That it is YOU who needs to change and grow).

I know that it would not matter if I told her these things.

She would not listen anyway.

She needed to find out for herself.

I am kissing you good-bye today- for good.

That part of you that remains in my head.

That on my bad days

(and even on some of my good,

when I do not feel worthy of my abundance)

your voice hammers in my head

telling me that I am nothing,

that I suck,

that I am not loved,

that I need to change,

that I am not pretty

or sexy

or smart.

On those

days that you tell me that I am not worthy

of anyone's love,

(in the past you added especially yours)

- that I do not deserve

all that I do have

and that I will never

amount to anything.

There were times that I lived up

to those expectations. And fortunately

there are many more

that I knew better.

I am kissing you good-bye today.

That part of you that was physically cruel to me.

The part that I still try to deny in my head.

Those subtle touches

that left bruises on the outside

and scars on the inside.

(You didn't think I would notice that it was purposeful.)

And those times when you wanted me

to know that you purposely

left a trace.

Those times when you needed

to show me your superiority,

your dominance,

your power,

your will.

It was so long ago.

My life is so full of love,

and purpose,

and peace,

and grace.

My life is shared with an amazingly loving husband,

who tells me I am smart,

who tells me he desires me,

who tells me he would die for me,

who has encouraged me to follow my heart and my dreams.

My life is filled with

children's laughter,

tears,

words,

stories,

music,

dance,

kisses

and hugs.

My house is warm and filled with pieces of me.

So today I am kissing the last piece of you good-bye.

The memory of me when I was with you.

I am whole,

I am good,

I am deserving,

I am smart,

I am creative,

I am pretty,

I am sexy,

I am beautiful,

I am funny,

I am forgiven,

I am special,

I have God's grace,

I am and forever will be me...

Forward

Sunday Scribblings- Destination

Giving up my past, vol I, chapter 1

When I was younger I was convinced that I was destined

to do great things. Small but great. I had big dreams of

joining the Peace Corp. and traveling to Africa to do good

things. I even completed the application.

Funny thing- since I began this post, having saved it as a

draft, I went over to my parent's house for a New Year's

meal (shrimp creole-yum). My dad was in cleaning mode-

really mom was and was making him clean out his office.

I had an old file cabinet in there chucked full and he

convinced me it was time to go through it. And lo and behold

what did I find but all my old college stuff and my application

packet to the Peace Corp. It just seemed to funny at the time.

And a sign that it is just time to let it all go. Let the past slip

away.

I bought a new set of cards by Dr. Wayne Dyer, 10 Secrets for Success

and Inner Peace. I have been using this set. And it was time for

something new. I pick a new card, randomly, about once a week

or whenever the mood strikes me. I hang them on my dry erase

board on my refridgerator. Right next to the hot lunch schedule

for my kid's school. Can't miss it. Some stay there a little while

and others need more time to sink in. They are wonderful little

words, phrases, and choices to help implement change, understanding

and peace.

So this is the first card that I picked from the deck.

"Give up your personal history...

Know that your past is over!

By referring to previous struggles and using them

as reasons for not getting on with your life today.

You're assigning responsibility to the past for

why you can't be successful or happy in the

present."-

Wow, that hit home a little bit and was very timely.

I definately have not let the past interfere with moving

forward with my life. I have overcome so much and

have a beautiful life and a beautiful family.

But I do use the word overcome and obstacles and whatnot.

It's time to let that go. I am done overcoming my past.

It is the past and the present and future have so much

in store for me.

So back to my dad's winter cleaning. See how this is coming

full circle. Anyway all my old college notes, binders, some

textbooks, poetry, newpaperclipings, letters, etc. were tucked away

in there. And I purged. I got rid of it all, except a very small pile of

old stories and poems that I wrote (not very good stuff mind you). But I want

to sit down alone someday with a cup of coffee (or perhaps a glass of wine) as read

those words that at one time came from my mind and another time. And then

let them slip away as well. I also kept a lovely old picture of Katherine Hepburn when

she was so young and stylish. I will put that somewhere.

So I purged some hard work of the past, and some not so hard work. My dad

being the pack rat that he is made sure that I gave him the emply binders and

binder clips. It felt great to put it all at the curb.

A fresh start. A fresh destination. Another circle that is forming.

A beginning to an end.

And finally an end to a beginning!

Sunday Scribblings- Change

DETERMINATIONS......
Like most people, I am not very good at keeping
New Year's Resolutions. I am not even very good
at coming up with a list. Not that I think that there
aren't things I could, should, would change. But the
process itself brings fatigue to my mind. So I avoid
it all together.

2007 is going to be another big year of change for me.
As I said in an earlier post, I am going back to school.
School- finish that degree I started 20 years ago.
Earn that last couple of semesters worth of credits
to give myself a little elbow grease when I get back
into the workforce. But basically it is more for
self-satisfaction. See I quit in my senior year, with more
than 100 credits to my name and all my major requirements
completed. Boy if I could go back to my old self and
tell her how things could be, just to get through the
rough patch that she was in at the time. It was a rough
patch, the roughtest that I have ever experienced.
But in hind sight there were so many solutions.
Since I cannot go back in time- I am determined to
focus on the present and the future.

This year I am determined to:

1. Put 100% into all the activities that I commit myself to.
2. Focus on a healthy living environment for me and my family.
3. Continue to purge the excess. Unclutter our living spaces. (This of
course is much easier said than done!)
4. Let go of my need to have more.
5. Put my $$$ toward our debt. There is so much freedom in being debt free!
6. Laugh more.
7. Create more.
8. Enjoy my children more.
9. Love more.
10. Pray more.
11. Appreciate more.
12. Give more.
13. Write more.


Ok- so maybe it does resemble resolutions. But I call it Determinations.
I am determined.

Sunday Scribblings-In the Last Hour...

In the last hour before...
I was numb. Drained. All that was me
ceased to exist. I did as I was told.
I followed those who lead. I became the
child once again and let my parents
show me the way. I let them save me,
I let them help me, I let them love
me the only way they knew how through
such circumstances. I let them pay, I let them
struggle, I let them question. I let them down.

In the last hour after...
I was relieved. I was alone, yet I was loved.
I was tierd, sick, sore, and broken, yet I was loved.
I was uncertain of what each hour would bring.
I was empty and yet full.
Once again I let my parents lead me. I let them love me.
I let them care for me. I let myself need them.
I let the ugly truths come out.
I let my crushed and bruised soul come home.
I was home.

A home that will always open it's doors for me.
A home that is bigger than all of us.
A home that led me to where I am today.

I am not the same as the one who lived those hours
and yet I am. I regret all her mistakes and yet they
led me to salvation. I can still shed a tear for her and
all she endured and yet I can raise her up and sing and dance
in celebration of her and all that she was. I understand
that she needed to survive, for me.

Sunday Scribblings- GOOD

The fat man always told me that the “road to hell is paved in good intentions”. The fat man had hips like a woman. When he walked down the hall in his 6 foot greatness he swayed like a girl. A girl with a beard and mustache and a hair do that was becoming more and more like a pompadour to hide the every growing bald spot at the back of his head. The fat man. The fat man carried a picture of his ex-girlfriend in his wallet. This may not seem like such a big deal, except that he has been married for 20 years and has 2 teenage daughters. On occasion, if you are lucky, he will pull out that photo and remind you how “lucky” he was to date such a catch.

“Hey Natalie did I show you this photo I have?” said fat man.

“Oh I think once or twice.”

“Let me show it too you again. Can you believe that she went out with me? What a catch that one.”

“Does your wife know that you have that thing?”

“No”

This is the same man who also carries around a photo of himself, when he wasn’t fat. And every now and then I would be lucky enough to witness the unveiling of that photo to some unsuspecting soul. I would watch that innocent novice struggle with how to complement him on his past physique without, well you know, suggesting that his current one is less than desirable.

God save the fat man.

Or should I say, “Let him eat cake”.

I worked for the fat man for 5 lucky years. Literally worked for- he being my boss and all. Now, you realize that I only gave him the nickname because he earned it. No- not due to body volume- but rather his skinny personality. My nickname for him was actually quite kind. Some of my co-workers had given him more colorful names that I rather not repeat.

Once the fat man put up a new picture in his office, and one could not leave the office without him drawing attention to it.

The fat man would say, “Hey, did you see my new photograph?”

“Oh, well, it’s quite nice?” I say this while looking at a picture of a 15 year old girl, who under normal conditions would be considered a beauty. However in this photo (that has been enlarged to a majestic 11x14 photograph) has her mouth gaping open and her head slightly tiled back as though she is about to throw up.

(laughing) “Not yet- guess what she is saying?”

“Hmmm can’t imagine...”

“She’s saying Daaaaadddd”, more laughing.

“Is she aware that you have added her to your wall of photographs?”

Chuckling (since he thinks he is so very funny), “Not yet, can’t wait for her to stop by after school. You got to get even with them one way or another. You know the way to hell is paved with good intentions”

Then he pokes his head around the door, “Hey Andy, you’ve got to come in here and see my new favorite photo.”

I took my cue and fled before I said anything that might expedite my dismissal from employment.

Sunday Scribblings- Freezing Time

I spend way too much time sitting at my computer, reading about other people’s thoughts, dreams, wishes and achievements. I have been so inspired by what people, women especially, are doing in their daily lives, ordinary people, people like me. That’s just the point, people like me. We are not celebrities, superstars, or even superheroes. There is a connection that I feel when I read or admire someone else’s work.

However inspiring the work may be, I do not have the time to admire and also create. Once I turn on my computer, sit my bum in front of my black flat panel screen and click the old internet icon, I get sucked right in. Sometimes I do not know how much time has lapsed since I last came up for air. Sucked into the web abyss. Quickly I become inspired. But it is like an addiction. And anyone who has had an addiction knows that it is almost impossible to know when to stop. So I go on and on, letting my little addiction suck the inspiration right out of me and steal my time away.

We are always chasing time. And yet- time is constant. It is regulated mathematically.
Although our bodies are bound by the laws of physics, chemistry and biology, our minds and souls work on the properties of perception.

I do not need more time. If I had it I would just waste more of it. What I wish is that I could appreciate what I have when I have it, that I could be driven by my own motivation and be satisfied by what I have and what I am. I often allow my fears to consume too much of my time, too much of my life. I have allowed my insecurities to keep me from achieving some of my dreams and desires.

A year and a half ago I was pregnant with my third child. I quit my job and stayed home with the kids. In the beginning, summertime, it was wonderful. I has so much time to be outside, play games, clean my house, cook healthy meals. But after Cecilia arrived, and the kids went back to school and the weather turned from fall to winter, I had too much time. Too much time to fill. And I felt stuck. Having such a small baby at home rooted me to the house and the regular daily household chores. I went through the same daily routine each and every day. I felt like the characters in the movie Groundhogs Day with Bill Murray. I felt stuck. S-T-U-C-K. And that’s what I think it would feel like to stop time. Time is momentum. And as I’ve said before, physics and chemistry. Momentum is necessary.

But if I could go back in time just to visit once in a while, that would be the icing on the cake. I could visit my grandparents again. Swim in their pool in the back yard on a hot summer day. Sipping lemonade and eating Pecan Sandies by the side of the pool. Ride on Papas back as he dived beneath the water. Feeling the sun burn into my skin. I would like to visit that day every now and then.

I would also like to go back to the day that my first child was born. It was such a high, all of them were really, but the first one. I felt so connected with God. I felt as though I had accomplished so much. My family was so excited and so proud of me. My grandparents were so excited to see Alex that they were there within an hour of his birth. They played pass the baby, oxygen monitor and all. The love in that room was incredible. I could feel it, taste it. It was delicious. When it was time for bed and everyone had to leave, my grandfather kissed me on the head and thanked me. At 84 years old, he thanked me. It was one of the last memories I have of my grandfather. Although at the time of Alex’s birth we did not know, he did not know, that he would not be with us much longer. But that day was magic. Absolute magic.

So no I have no dreams of stopping time- I would just like to once in a while, use my superhero powers to time travel now and again.