Surveying the wreckage

Photo:  ansil.tumblr.com

In the last 2-3 months, I've had a decidedly eventful life.  At face value, that sounds exciting, doesn't it?  It hasn't been.  It's been interesting, yes, and I've certainly grown in ways I would never have predicted or imagined prior to these events, but none of it was exciting.  Epiphanies were the by product of these events.  The following is a comment I left on the blog post of my dear friend, Debra El Ramey (http://debrasblogpureandsimple.blogspot.com/2012/07/inch-by-inch.html):

"I found this interesting. It would be simple to say that I am writing my own manuscripts with hopes of being published, and that is true. What came to mind, however, is that I am releasing some layers of armor that no longer serve me. And the realization came from a very harsh, unexpected lesson - the death of a loved one polarized everything in my life and from that one breath to the next, I was forever changed. I recognized that something that had been valid, important and very passionately necessary to me one day simply became unimportant in one powerful blow. I am now surveying the wreckage of some vestiges of ego and processing and learning who I am now, afterwards.  And I do believe I have the genesis of my next blog post.
I never cease to marvel at how I greet myself anew when I visit here, Debra."
Debra's post:  http://debrasblogpureandsimple.blogspot.com/2012/07/inch-by-inch.html         *I encourage you to visit Debra's wonderful blog!*

Those who know me well might be surprised to learn that I'm stubborn.  I am.  I admit it freely.  I don't know if I'm more stubborn than most, or if I'm just more vocal about it when need be.  What I do question about my stubbornness is if I subsequently require a more dramatic set of lessons in order to be awakened to what should otherwise be obvious to my pea brain.  These recent epiphanies came on the heels of some very hard and harsh experiences.

In May of this year (2012), I went through a series of car calamities that grew progressively worse, with one event being a near miss where I could easily have died.  My back right tire exploded in rush hour traffic, literally lifting my car up in the air, then throwing my car directly into the oncoming lane where I should have been hit head on by a monster truck and three other cars.  Somehow, they all swerved and avoided me and I managed to wrestle my car back into the proper lane without hitting anyone or being hit.  There was a lesson in that experience - a big one, and I'm still processing it.  Mere weeks later, my car finally bit the dust.  This experience happened on the heels of a personal situation that, at the time, was driving me to near distraction.  The resulting epiphany was quite dramatic and gave me the opportunity to walk in that other person's (the other person in that relationship) shoes and know and feel immediately what that person had been attempting to communicate to me.  So, two similar lessons layered one atop the other and kicked me into a new state of awareness with a rather brutal boot.

Fast forward to July of this year (2012) and I lost a family member to suicide.  What has come to mind, in the days since, is that I am releasing some layers of armor that no longer serve me. This realization came from the very harsh, unexpected lesson of the death of that loved one.  It polarized everything in my life and from that one breath to the next, I was forever changed. I recognized that something that had been valid, important and very passionately necessary to me one day simply became unimportant in one powerful blow. I am now surveying the wreckage of some vestiges of ego and processing and learning who I am now, afterwards.  As you can see, this is the comment I wrote above, on Debra's blog post Comments section.

Those valid issues that held such importance to me are still valid, and I daresay I will revisit them in the future to assess their new level of importance.  But right now, today, I am changed.  I came to a swift, blinding rush of realization, courtesy of the finality that sudden death of a loved one brings.  I remember reflecting on the decision I had made the day before, a very permanent, final, tough decision.  It ended a relationship that was important to me, that decision.  At the time, I fully, firmly believed I was making the right choice for myself.  I still believe that. At that moment in time, it was the right decision to make.  But after I lost a loved one to suicide, I was made bluntly aware that the person I was when I made that dramatic decision no longer existed.

It's fair to say we change with each tick of the clock. It's a minute splitting of hairs, if we want to go down that spiral of thought.  It does apply here, that splitting of hairs. I received a fateful phone call that someone I loved took their own life, and the world changed for me in that jagged flash of words.  As I went through the grief process, I reflected on the fact that nothing I could do...no decision I could make would make a difference with that equation. Nothing could bring my loved one back.  All I had power over was myself and the decisions and choices I make.  And I was made dramatically aware that that hard line choice I had made the day before, the one that had felt so strongly right and valid, was no longer a truth for me.

So, rather than inch by inch of progress, as Debra's blog speaks of, I began to peel layer by layer away of my old self.  I stood and surveyed the wreckage of where my Ego firmly planted itself, hand in hand with Pride and Fear, and made a defiant stand.  Those noble flags of Self no longer flew with bright colors on the landscape of my soul.  Instead, they rested quietly on veritable flag poles, waiting to be lowered, folded and tucked away, as they were simply no longer necessary.

In the process of finding my feet, finding my balance in this new existence, I've mentioned to a couple of people that in the last 6 - 8 months, I've been greeting myself in ways that I would never have predicted.  Relationships do that....they provide a very clear mirror for us to see who we are, to see our behaviors and if we're smart, they provide clarity for us to make necessary changes.  I've been experiencing that very thing and I'm not ashamed to admit that I didn't always like what that mirror showed me.  Living in Ego is something we all do and it's a very human behavior.  It....living in Ego, can be defined, also, as living in Fear.  That is a behavior that I work on constantly to mitigate in myself, with an eye towards cutting repetitive, negative cycles that serve no other purpose but to hold me back.

A little more than a month later, I am still adapting to this new Self.  I am also continuing to greet myself within the auspices of this relationship that shapes me on a constant basis.  I like the changes that are taking place; I like the level of communication that is being fostered on both sides.

There is value in being broken down; I think most of us recognize this fact. Remaining in a rigid mindset might feel comfortable and familiar, but the freedom that breaking free of those inflexible walls offers is a joyful thing to experience.  I'm breathing differently....more deeply....more confidently.  I am looking at myself and others with new eyes.

And I'm climbing a new hill, because that's what we do as we move forward in Life.  We traverse those endless hills and valleys.  From the viewpoint of the upward slope of this current hill, I look over my shoulder....just once....to survey the recent wreckage.  Then I turn and keep walking forward, and upward.  What is ahead of me is wide open road.

Unripened fruit, sparkles & twinkles

www.ibn-tv.com/2011/09/eating-fruit

When choosing fruit, what type of person are you?  Say it's an apple, or a peach - do you go for the riper fruit that's juicy and soft when you bite into it?  Or do you prefer crispy, firm fruit that is crunchy and tart on the tongue with that first bite?  I'm of the latter preference - the crispier and crunchier, the more tart and tangy, the better.  In fact, when fruit gets riper and softer, it is immediately consigned to my freezer for an eventual smoothie.  I just don't like it when it gets soft and juicy. 

My Mom, in fact, has been quoted as saying, "When I look for fruit for my daughter, Dawn, I pick the pieces that could be used as a substitute for a hockey puck or baseball, and I know she'll be happy."  My Mom, by the way, is on the opposite end of the spectrum and adores juicy, ripe fruit....peaches that almost dissolve at the first bite, bananas that have turned brown and are extremely soft and sweet. 

You're sitting there reading this and wondering what my point is, aren't you?  I recently posted a response to one of those fun Blog Awards (Blog Award Positivity) that has you list favorite blogs and then list some personal info.  One of the comments I received was from a lovely new friend, Lisa Brandel, author of The Widow Lady blog.  The following was the wonderful comment she left for me:

"I started following you a while back, both here and on Twitter. Your Tweets are little sprinkles of happy dust in the virtual world...and now that I have actually had time to read your blog...I see that same sparkle here too. Much love dear and thank you for sharing this special energy with the virtual world!"  Lisa Brandel, The Widow Lady blog

You may see this as bit of self-aggrandizement, to publish such a nicely written, complementary Comment.  I won't argue the fact that it made me very happy to read Lisa's comment, but I don't feel using it as a source of inspiration is necessarily blowing my own horn overly loudly.  What Lisa's comment made me contemplate, and be appreciative of, is how determinedly I have chosen to stay true to myself.  It hasn't always been easy over the years. 

The plain truth is, most people fit into the juicy, squishy fruit category and I'm way over on the other end of the proverbial see-saw, dangling high up there in mid-air, simply because it's usually just me over on that end.  I think differently than most, and I'm quite aware of that.  It took some time for me to fully embrace my own quirks and unique traits, and quite a bit of courage to give them voice back in my early twenties.  Now, at this point in my life, I am simply Me.  I revel in the fact that I prefer slightly (okay, completely) unripe fruit, that I find Divine Presence most often outside of a brick and mortar church, that I firmly believe in the presence of magical moments, and that my uniqueness quite often makes others stop, pause and occasionally view the world through my different perspective. 

I also cannot ignore the fact that many times, people observe my point of view and declare quite roundly that I'm lacking in judgment, that I'm too idealistic, too romantic, or any manner of negatives.  (Personally, I find most of those to be compliments, with the exception of the lacking in judgement one.)  I generally just smile at those types and keep living my life as works best for me.  There's old mountain wisdom that says, "Nobody beats a dead dog."  This means that if you're alive and making your mark in the world, you're going to get kudos and you're also going to meet those that simply aren't going to be fans.  I have come to know that naysayers, in a rather quirky way, are a bit of a pat on the back for me to remember that, yep, I'm still on the right path!

I don't expect others to necessarily adopt my choices, or beliefs, or tastes.  Very few prefer the extra tart, crunchy fruit side of life, and that's okay.  I see beautiful balance in my own life and how I have come to a comfortable acceptance and enjoyment of who I am.  And, if I'm fortunate, occasionally someone like Lisa Brandel, or a small handful of other dear friends - you all know who you are - read my work and recognize, as Lisa so eloquently described, a twinkle and sparkle in my message.  I do, quite intentionally, "sprinkle happy dust" into my blog articles, my Twitter and Facebook posts.  It makes me happy to do so, just from a personal point of view.  It tickles me beyond words when a kindred spirit recognizes the sprinkles of happy dust and takes a moment to comment on same.  That's just pure fun...there is no other way to describe it. 

Perhaps another quote fits what I am attempting to communicate here.  It is by one of my absolute favorite authors and poets:

"When two close kindred meet, what better than call a dance?”  William Butler Yeats

There are moments when I as a writer am happy to admit that another has woven together words in such a lyrical fashion that not only could I not improve upon it, but that I am, in that moment of reading, transported.  Lisa Brandel's words above, in my opinion, gave a very accurate thumb nail sketch of who I am as a writer, as a person, and what I strive to communicate in written format.  It delighted me that she felt this kinship and Yeats' quote immediately came to mind to highlight that moment of shared, enjoyed whimsy. Lisa also writes with a rich hand to her words, and I encourage you to visit her blog, read, and follow.

I am a lighthearted Soul, and although it may sound contradictory, I am also deeply introspective, diving to the depths of a given topic, emotion or thought and spending endless hours observing, thinking and experiencing.  I rarely look at anything at surface level - I remain curious about most things under the sun.  I feel deeply, I love deeply and I write with an attempt to give voice to the wild, tempestuous feelings that clamor inside my heart to be written down. 

Some days, I am happy and feel that I have succeeded in this goal.  Other days, I am like anyone else, critical of my efforts and finding them sadly lacking.  On those days in the future, I shall remember Lisa Brandel's happy nod and kind words; I shall automatically recall the equally lovely quote of Mr. Yeats.  On the heels of all of the above, I will remind myself that I like crispy, crunchy, tart, not-quite-ripe fruit and also that I write with a sparkling shower of happy dust radiating from my proverbial pen....because that's just who I am...unripened fruit, sparkles and twinkles and so much more.  Perhaps you, also, are a close kindred one and will join in the dance, partake of a bit of fruit, and share in the burst of sparkles that ensue.