Today was a beautiful day here in the sunny North Northwest. The weather was mild and the sun shone down brightly, warmly, but not hotly on everything and everyone. I shared a lovely breakfast with my sister and her family. We went for a glorious walk at the ocean's edge (one of my favorite places to be). We went to an open air market, and while the other grown ups shopped, LS's father-in-law and I sat by the edge of the market and listened to a street musician play guitar, watched children feed pigeons and enjoyed the beautiful weather. We all piled home, where we walked to the market or a few extras, came back and prepared afternoon tea (which is such a nice ritual, but one I rarely partake in) and after relaxing in the backyard for a bit, we made dinner and some of their friends joined us for an early birthday celebration, which we ate outside, under the apple tree. It was so idyllic, a little romantic and, well, straight out of a fairy tale.
Now everyone has gone to bed, and I am up holding myself to this self-imposed obligation. Even though it is just for me, I feel it is really important, because I am so quick to abandon something, especially if I perceive it to be foolish or that others may think it's foolish, and especially if I don't feel like doing it. So I do this as evidence that I am doing it and to prove to myself I will, not that I can, because I know that, but because I will and that is what I am trying to show myself.
I have been talking a bit with LS about some of the childhood troubles that haunt us and analyzing bits here and there. I am so torn about all of that. On one hand I feel like the past is the past and if I choose to embrace my hurts and miseries to my bosom, then that is all I will have, and it is all long behind me. If instead I chose to acknowledge my hurst and move on then I will get out of my life what I take out of it and those people that treated me so poorly, no longer have a hold on my life. I claim it back for myself. The problem lies, in that I am not sure if the hurts have planted little seeds that have grown into baobabs that block my way to taking out of life what I want. Though my reference to baobabs is from "the Little Prince" and he may have been speaking of blowing things out of proportion....wait, maybe it still fits. Part of my conflict lies in that my mother doesn't sincerely acknowledge those hurts, and it makes me question the validity of them. But my heart and spirit tell me that she is wrong, that those hurts are real and that they have affected me in some very profound ways. The disproportion comes when I am so bothered by the conflict, that I cannot separate myself from the memories and the anger, resentment and insecurity those memories bring. I am frozen in time, frozen in fear, frozen in self-doubt and I question everything I do, every decision I make, every step I take. I need to find a way to free myself from that conflict and let myself blossom.
One beautiful day in Alaska, I was at the beach and this line popped into my head- when I answer the call of myself, I will astound you- I wrote a little more after that and accidentally erased it from my iPod. I tried to re-write what followed the first line but was unsuccessful and so it has been shuffled onto the back burner to simmer until it finds me again. But that sentiment of the first line, I think it's myself I will astound. If I could only answer that call, stand up fearless and proud, confident and ready to face the challenges set before me, then I will be all that I was always told I could be, everything I was told that I was, but couldn't see. The hard thing was that while I was being told I was amazing and special and wonderful beyond belief, I was being shown that it was not true at all.
This seems to be taking a turn for the depressing and that is not my intention at all. Time to go to bed, or go visit with my LS.
Good Night!
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| The London Eye |
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| distorts the Savoy |
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