Some days I miss you more than others. And often, on those days, I also feel guilt for not truly appreciating you when you were here. I mean, I did appreciate you, but I probably should have told you more often, called you more often. Talked with you about nothing more often. Then I wonder: how often could possibly have been often enough to make up for now?
I know you are there, watching, as part of the night sky--in the stars and the moon.......but I do wonder at times where I am to find you in the daylight. In the times when I am supposed to be cleaning the house, making the bed, brushing my teeth. It's not just you I miss; it's what you represent. A safe haven when I'm scared, angry, confused. Never did you make me tell you what was on my mind, good or bad. We would, and could, talk about anything else to distract, clarify, connect. How many years? How many yesterdays? How many heartaches, headaches?
What I need now, what I crave at this moment, is to hear you tell me, yet again, about the day I climbed into your lap and told you that I didn't ever want to grow up, and you replying that I would always be your little girl, no matter what. No matter what.
No matter what.
You taught me strength, and you probably didn't even know it. Strength of character, forgiveness and love. Honestly, there are some times when I wish I didn't have that strength, but, again, thanks to you, I recognize those times as moments of weakness. And then I recall the lessons in humor and lightness of spirit. That is where I find my true self; my true strength.
I find myself missing you today, because I know I'm not the only one missing you. Look in on me, please, but focus your attention on who needs it most. I'm strong. And I'll find some lightness in today, I know I will.
No matter what.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
on the fence
This morning, I have an interview. It's been a while since I've been interviewed for a job--more recently, I've been the interviewer, and I really enjoy that position at the table. This, not so much. And for a number of reasons, first of which is that I really do love my current jobs. Okay, so the summer one gets to me, but I love most of the people I work with, I love the work that I do there, I love my staff, it's mostly the commute and the fact that it's seasonal.
Mostly, I wish life, the world, the times were different, and that I had made, or been guided to make, different decisions in my life. But only sometimes. Whenever I think that, I look around myself and see where I am. I have four great kids, two nutty dogs, a house that I love (for all its faults!), two jobs that, in all honesty, offer me supreme flexibility for the aforementioned, and a husband who is walking this road with me. I am lucky, blessed, fortunate. My life is far from perfect, and lately more like novella than I find comfortable, but it is my life.
Why do I have this interview, then? Because sometimes it's more important to "have." With Jonathan heading off to college, and Henry following suit in just two years, we have different needs than we had before. I'm still struggling with it: a full-time job for the stability, or keep what I have and find a part-time evening job for flexibility? And would that really offer flexibility? What about my kids? That's always the biggest question: what about my kids?
Yesterday, vocations came up. Above all else, I am a Momma. It is more than just motherhood--I have long known it is my vocation. It was not a "choice" that I wanted to be a Mom when I grew up; it was a calling. I don't know why. Ours is not to question why, to paraphrase Tennyson, right? My duty, though, is to nurture. Perhaps that's why I'm a pretty good manager. Certainly, that is why I am unsure and nervous today. I don't know if this is the right thing to do; or, really, what is the right thing to do.
So I will do what I know. I will follow the interview advice of a dear friend, and be myself, and be honest about what I am looking for. What I am needing. And we'll take it from there. Wish me luck...
Mostly, I wish life, the world, the times were different, and that I had made, or been guided to make, different decisions in my life. But only sometimes. Whenever I think that, I look around myself and see where I am. I have four great kids, two nutty dogs, a house that I love (for all its faults!), two jobs that, in all honesty, offer me supreme flexibility for the aforementioned, and a husband who is walking this road with me. I am lucky, blessed, fortunate. My life is far from perfect, and lately more like novella than I find comfortable, but it is my life.
Why do I have this interview, then? Because sometimes it's more important to "have." With Jonathan heading off to college, and Henry following suit in just two years, we have different needs than we had before. I'm still struggling with it: a full-time job for the stability, or keep what I have and find a part-time evening job for flexibility? And would that really offer flexibility? What about my kids? That's always the biggest question: what about my kids?
Yesterday, vocations came up. Above all else, I am a Momma. It is more than just motherhood--I have long known it is my vocation. It was not a "choice" that I wanted to be a Mom when I grew up; it was a calling. I don't know why. Ours is not to question why, to paraphrase Tennyson, right? My duty, though, is to nurture. Perhaps that's why I'm a pretty good manager. Certainly, that is why I am unsure and nervous today. I don't know if this is the right thing to do; or, really, what is the right thing to do.
So I will do what I know. I will follow the interview advice of a dear friend, and be myself, and be honest about what I am looking for. What I am needing. And we'll take it from there. Wish me luck...
Saturday, July 28, 2012
when I grow up
Last night, as I watched a portion of the London Olympic Opening Ceremonies, I cried. I missed the beginning, and only came in at the dream sequence. At work, we had been talking about the Beijing ceremonies, and we agreed that nothing could top them. (I remember I cried then, too.) London's, in my humble opinion, were pretty darn cool. They were not China, but I don't think they were trying to be--they were trying to be London.
What impressed me, what moved me to tears--as always--was the heart, soul and skill displayed. Each of the children played their role, nurses were recruited to show their pride in who they are through dance and pantomime. The villains came! And Mary Poppins saved the day. Through it all, there were dance steps, formations, facial expressions, costume and set changes coordinated with hundreds of thousands of individuals, all working toward a common goal. And a goal that not everyone understands the importance of--a performance.
Performance art is misunderstood. Some of it is really weird. But sometimes it can carry you away as much as a painting, a sculpture, a book. I'm a little biased, I know. I was a performer; I am still a performer at heart, although these days my performances tend to be a bit more personal and on a different scale. (And no one pays to see them, or I'd be rich!) A part of me wonders if some of the comments I've seen about the Ceremonies being "weird" were related to the earlier parts I didn't see, or to something else. The commentary was too much for me, but I didn't have program notes to read first, so I know it was necessary, and there were times when I would have been completely lost without those voices, but Bob Costas, with all due respect, is a sports guy. A dance or performance commentator may have sounded less, well, like Bob Costas. (I love his voice, don't get me wrong, but he really does remind me of The Wide World of Sports for reasons I cannot explain.) On the other hand, performance people can get a little more wrapped up in what they are seeing......
Which brings me back to my own tears, and the tugging at my heartstrings. I miss that atmosphere. I miss that anticipation of a cue, and the proximity of other bodies dancing the same dance. Once or twice I picked up a flubbed step, a missed turn (also amazing, considering how many people were performing!) and was so impressed that the person who made the mistake, as well as those around them, were smiling away. Clearly they acknowledged the mistake, but the show must go on, and it was FUN!! I miss being at performances, and watching them live, watching them come to life. I go to our school plays and concerts, but I miss the dream of seeing a performance every week, every month, of being part of the energy.
The goal, as I understand it, was for the London Ceremonies to reflect the personality of London, and of Great Britain. All I know of either is what I've heard in history class, so of course parts of it struck me as odd; just as a performance trying to depict my own personality and history would seem odd to anyone who doesn't know me. The key is acceptance with an open mind. Once you meet me and get to know me a little bit, you can make the choice whether I am 'weird' or not, but don't skip the 'get to know me' part. Anyone who has the guts to be completely themselves when first being introduced will probably seem pretty darn weird.
I admire that.
What impressed me, what moved me to tears--as always--was the heart, soul and skill displayed. Each of the children played their role, nurses were recruited to show their pride in who they are through dance and pantomime. The villains came! And Mary Poppins saved the day. Through it all, there were dance steps, formations, facial expressions, costume and set changes coordinated with hundreds of thousands of individuals, all working toward a common goal. And a goal that not everyone understands the importance of--a performance.
Performance art is misunderstood. Some of it is really weird. But sometimes it can carry you away as much as a painting, a sculpture, a book. I'm a little biased, I know. I was a performer; I am still a performer at heart, although these days my performances tend to be a bit more personal and on a different scale. (And no one pays to see them, or I'd be rich!) A part of me wonders if some of the comments I've seen about the Ceremonies being "weird" were related to the earlier parts I didn't see, or to something else. The commentary was too much for me, but I didn't have program notes to read first, so I know it was necessary, and there were times when I would have been completely lost without those voices, but Bob Costas, with all due respect, is a sports guy. A dance or performance commentator may have sounded less, well, like Bob Costas. (I love his voice, don't get me wrong, but he really does remind me of The Wide World of Sports for reasons I cannot explain.) On the other hand, performance people can get a little more wrapped up in what they are seeing......
Which brings me back to my own tears, and the tugging at my heartstrings. I miss that atmosphere. I miss that anticipation of a cue, and the proximity of other bodies dancing the same dance. Once or twice I picked up a flubbed step, a missed turn (also amazing, considering how many people were performing!) and was so impressed that the person who made the mistake, as well as those around them, were smiling away. Clearly they acknowledged the mistake, but the show must go on, and it was FUN!! I miss being at performances, and watching them live, watching them come to life. I go to our school plays and concerts, but I miss the dream of seeing a performance every week, every month, of being part of the energy.
The goal, as I understand it, was for the London Ceremonies to reflect the personality of London, and of Great Britain. All I know of either is what I've heard in history class, so of course parts of it struck me as odd; just as a performance trying to depict my own personality and history would seem odd to anyone who doesn't know me. The key is acceptance with an open mind. Once you meet me and get to know me a little bit, you can make the choice whether I am 'weird' or not, but don't skip the 'get to know me' part. Anyone who has the guts to be completely themselves when first being introduced will probably seem pretty darn weird.
I admire that.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
nature's music
I have felt like a cannon ball for some time. Thick and heavy, unyielding, and yet pushed to do, act, be. I haven't been writing, running, dancing, sewing because I have felt crammed into the barrel of the cannon. Stuck in a long dark tunnel, with occasional noises around me, a circle of light ahead, and waiting for the big boom.
Now I'm left with a headache.
Recently, little by little, I have given up myself. I stopped dancing. I sewed less and less. With those things, I told myself it was because I was now running and doing yoga, and something had to give. But I realize I have not even played music in the background of my life. My CD collection, while not huge, is pretty diverse, and there has always been something on as the soundtrack for my day. Again, I told myself it was because my job did not allow me to play music--or even muzak--so I just got out of the habit.
Turns out, all of it was just falling away. For no real reason.
This morning, I woke to the low rumbling of thunder. Not the crashing, crazy storm kind, but the refreshing summer storm kind. Both the thunder and the rain were so gentle, the windows could stay open. The lightening more a glimmer than a flash. I let the sounds wash my mind clean.
I still have the headache. I still hope today is better than yesterday. But today starts my search for the old me. The me I like the best. I don't know if I will go back to the things I used to do, or if I will find something new, but I'm not rolling to the back of the cannon, waiting for the fuse. I'm going to be the confetti that comes out of the circus cannon.
Yes, that's me. Confetti.
Now I'm left with a headache.
Recently, little by little, I have given up myself. I stopped dancing. I sewed less and less. With those things, I told myself it was because I was now running and doing yoga, and something had to give. But I realize I have not even played music in the background of my life. My CD collection, while not huge, is pretty diverse, and there has always been something on as the soundtrack for my day. Again, I told myself it was because my job did not allow me to play music--or even muzak--so I just got out of the habit.
Turns out, all of it was just falling away. For no real reason.
This morning, I woke to the low rumbling of thunder. Not the crashing, crazy storm kind, but the refreshing summer storm kind. Both the thunder and the rain were so gentle, the windows could stay open. The lightening more a glimmer than a flash. I let the sounds wash my mind clean.
I still have the headache. I still hope today is better than yesterday. But today starts my search for the old me. The me I like the best. I don't know if I will go back to the things I used to do, or if I will find something new, but I'm not rolling to the back of the cannon, waiting for the fuse. I'm going to be the confetti that comes out of the circus cannon.
Yes, that's me. Confetti.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
bucket list
In no particular order, except how I thought of them....
1. Live/vacation on a houseboat
2. Get a motorcycle license and take a roadtrip
3. Study flying. If only to understand how it works. I would love to fly myself/my family on vacation, though, instead of driving sometime
4. Live in a three room cottage, with everything I could possibly need.
5. Publish something
6. Sell a photo.
7. Visit somewhere "unreachable" and actually not be reached.
8. Revisit the Kona coast
9. Win something (not specific enough for a Bucket List, I know, but it would be a first)
10. Bike wine country
11. Visit Washington State
12. Have an office. With a door and wall space and an organized desk and chairs for office visitors
13. Visit another continent
1. Live/vacation on a houseboat
2. Get a motorcycle license and take a roadtrip
3. Study flying. If only to understand how it works. I would love to fly myself/my family on vacation, though, instead of driving sometime
4. Live in a three room cottage, with everything I could possibly need.
5. Publish something
6. Sell a photo.
7. Visit somewhere "unreachable" and actually not be reached.
8. Revisit the Kona coast
9. Win something (not specific enough for a Bucket List, I know, but it would be a first)
10. Bike wine country
11. Visit Washington State
12. Have an office. With a door and wall space and an organized desk and chairs for office visitors
13. Visit another continent
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
a special psa
Yesterday, I hit a wall. I have a job that I really do enjoy most aspects of. There is always something that throws a monkey wrench into every job, and yesterday the whole hardware store seemed to be involved. Worse, it was a day off, and still the wrenches kept coming.
My job is in the Make People Happy sector, and, generally, that is what we manage to do. You may be surprised at how bending over to pick up a few straw wrappers and fruit slices can make people on an average day. Lately, however, the days have been far from average.
Above average temperatures have pushed most everyone to their limits. Working outside in the heat is one of the sacrifices we make to do our job, and we grumble about it, but only amongst ourselves. I am also honest about it: when people ask how I am doing, I flat out say, "I'm hot and sometimes cranky." They laugh, I laugh, and we move on about our business.
Please remember that those working in the service and/or safety industries are there for your benefit, but not for your dumping. Yes, we are getting paid to smile sweetly at you, but that is not all we are doing. I am also hauling your trash, lugging buckets of slop, picking up after you and your children, sweeping up, mopping, washing, organizing, and trying to make my payroll. Not for the money I make, either, but because I know how important it is for you to enjoy your visit. I cannot control the temperature of the air, the ground, your beer, and to a certain extent, the water around you. I cannot control the behavior of those around you, either. I can (and do!) address behaviors that have a negative effect on the overall environment, but I cannot do that before the fact. I was not hired to read minds, which is a good thing, because I missed that class.
Yesterday, I heard one more time that "this doesn't happen when Stephanie is here." Sure it does. Whatever "it" is. I trust those I have hired to do the job I expect of them when I am not there. You need to, as well. Your complaints, if you look at them rationally, are probably more due to the fact that you are "hot and sometimes cranky," too. The saying goes, "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." I'd like to propose that if you can't stand how hot it is outside, you should find someplace air conditioned. Then let us do our (outside) job.
My job is in the Make People Happy sector, and, generally, that is what we manage to do. You may be surprised at how bending over to pick up a few straw wrappers and fruit slices can make people on an average day. Lately, however, the days have been far from average.
Above average temperatures have pushed most everyone to their limits. Working outside in the heat is one of the sacrifices we make to do our job, and we grumble about it, but only amongst ourselves. I am also honest about it: when people ask how I am doing, I flat out say, "I'm hot and sometimes cranky." They laugh, I laugh, and we move on about our business.
Please remember that those working in the service and/or safety industries are there for your benefit, but not for your dumping. Yes, we are getting paid to smile sweetly at you, but that is not all we are doing. I am also hauling your trash, lugging buckets of slop, picking up after you and your children, sweeping up, mopping, washing, organizing, and trying to make my payroll. Not for the money I make, either, but because I know how important it is for you to enjoy your visit. I cannot control the temperature of the air, the ground, your beer, and to a certain extent, the water around you. I cannot control the behavior of those around you, either. I can (and do!) address behaviors that have a negative effect on the overall environment, but I cannot do that before the fact. I was not hired to read minds, which is a good thing, because I missed that class.
Yesterday, I heard one more time that "this doesn't happen when Stephanie is here." Sure it does. Whatever "it" is. I trust those I have hired to do the job I expect of them when I am not there. You need to, as well. Your complaints, if you look at them rationally, are probably more due to the fact that you are "hot and sometimes cranky," too. The saying goes, "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." I'd like to propose that if you can't stand how hot it is outside, you should find someplace air conditioned. Then let us do our (outside) job.
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