Friday, September 13, 2013

On losing & finding one's way Pt.2

Almost two years ago, I wrote the most heartbreaking post of my blogging existence.  Full of anticipatory loss and a deep sense of grief, it was hugely difficult for me to be honest and acknowledge what I was feeling.  A life I thought I had nailed down was an empty farce.  The life, the reality, that realized I wanted, on so many levels, seemed impossible.

I've been lucky enough to have learned a great deal about being present and actively realigning priorities in this last year via 4 separate events in rather rapid succession: 3 times in ICU for three separate reasons in less than 4 months and then 10 days amazing days in NZ, completely "off the grid" with the love of my life.

In the cases of the ICU incidents, I feel as though I got three individual do-overs, as though the universe was rolling its eyes and trying to figure out when the lesson would finally take, already. I'd spent over 5 years working 80-100 hour weeks. I hadn't seen family or friends for years, barely saw my then fiance. If you haven't had the experience, I can tell you that 2:30 am is a very difficult time in ICU when your doctors' prognosis is "wait and see" on biopsies and brain scans. I can tell you that no amount of morphine could take the sober out of not knowing if you'll live to see another day outside of the hospital. If that snippy thing you said to one of your charges, instead of a kind reminder, will be the last thing they remember about you.  If your family will have to pull out pictures from 6 years past simply so they can accurately recall the shape of your smile.  It has a truly profound effect on your priorities.  I don't really want to go through any of that again, but I am so incredibly thankful that I got the message and the chance to step away from a job that had become too little for my heart and soul so that I could reset my course and remember how to live.  Most importantly, how to make it matter and *thrive* again.

To the other and much happier extreme is the fourth event: NZ with Ben [aka TMB.]  He reminded me of the beauty of being idle. Not having to rush or to do or meet 20 deadlines, benchmarks, or goals by X o'clock. Watching the rain. Naps. Being silly or silent.  And, ultimately, showing me why I never, ever would want to return to world of the walking [or sprinting, as the case more accurately is] dead, because in one year or 20, no one is going to give a whit about the best logistics coordinator or the distant Assisting Manager to the VP of Operations.  They will remember the person who took or made the time and effort to be present.
  They will remember kindness, warmth, and authenticity.

I haven't worked in 10 weeks which has given me some time to do much needed and major mental and emotional housekeeping.  I'm wildly thankful for having been able to utilize my resources to do these things as a major overhaul was in order and these things cannot be addressed lightly if they are to be addressed correctly.  I'm not certain what my direction is, though I'm getting bored and fecklessness isn't in my nature.  However, having experienced the last year, having TMB at my proverbial side, I feel safe and calmly confident for the first time in my life and everything I thought I'd lost before having the chance to experience them is now a part of my future.

Most of all, it's been the experience of real love.  Something that has never been so tangible as it is with Ben.  Real love is like a mirror that reframes your whole idea of who you are because when you see the astonishing beauty of who you are to someone else reflected back at you, you will never be the same.

Here's to finding one's way.

Tuesday, September 03, 2013

"Nearly Midnight, Honolulu" or How The End Is The Beginning

Hey, little kid that I saw at the bus stop one day
It was nearly midnight in Honolulu
We were waiting for the shuttle to take us to the aeroplane
When your mother said, your mother said
Like I couldn't hear her, she said,
"Get the fuck away from me!
Why don't you ever shut up?
Get the fuck away from me!"

Oh, oh

Well, I just want to say that it happened
'Cause one day when you ask yourself,
"Did it really happen?"
You won't believe it, but yes, it did
And I'm sorry
And I'm sorry
'Cause it happens everyday

They won't believe you
When you tell them
They won't believe you
When you say,
"My mother, she did not love me.
My mother, she did not love me"

No x8

Some days you feel like a cartoon
And people will rush to make excuses for you
You'll hear yourself complain
But don't you ever shut up, please
Kid, have your say
'Cause I still love you
Even if I don't see you again


“You can survive and you’re an awesome, plucky little kid, but you have to take care of yourself because your mom’s a fucking asshole, but you’re gonna have to pay for that later; the fact that you can turn around and start singing again, you’re gonna pay for that later, also. It’s really fucking unfair.” - Neko Case in explanation of "Nearly Midnight, Honolulu" 

Thank you, Ms. Case.  I'm past the unfair stage, but it's never, ever been easy and I've never felt as fully understood as I do through this song and your comments.