Knowledge is power but sometimes, it's scary

Normally, I don't write about my struggles with anxiety, but today, I am going to. I am sitting here staring at the computer and waiting for a nurse to call my back before I take these drugs. I have a kidney infection. How it advanced from bladder to kidney without me feeling ANYTHING, I have no idea. How I got it, I have no idea. All I know is that I have one. And ya know, it can kinda be a big deal if it goes untreated. So I go to pick up the meds they prescribed and with it came three pages of fine print warnings about side effects. Scary things like nerve damage and bursting tendons.

**an hour later**

This is the part where I admit that upon reading that I turned into a complete basket case. I called my mom, because no matter how unknowledgable mothers may be about what their children ask them, they are still an authority for some reason. I succeed in freaking her out because, hey, my anxiety had to come from somewhere, right? (She apologizes for this profusely every time she receives one of these phone calls.) Then I call the pharmacist. And she tells me hardly anyone ever experiences those side effects, they just HAVE to tell people about them. (What would the world be like without scare tactics I wonder? I mean, I see why they have to, but f-ing hell...). Then she tells me how serious a kidney infection is, like I don't already know. (From my mom, from the doctor, from past schooling I have received). That I should relax and just take them. Then I talk to my moms nurse friend who essentially says the same thing, and that she is allergic to it, and that yes it has side effects, but so does food. And then how serious a kidney infection is. She is, however, the only person to not do any of the following a)ask if my partner (assuming I even have one) is a clean individual, b) whether I pee after sex, or c) why didn't I seek a doctor when it was just a bladder infection. (Really? If I knew I had one, I would have!) I have a good cry about it because what is an anxiety attack without tears? I freak my daughter out. In between all this, I vent to friends who do wonderful things to calm me down. I put Em down for a nap and cuddle with her for a bit. Eventually I do calm down.

I need to remember to breath in situations like this. And that life is bigger than this body I life in, and that I will be ok.

And, in really bad situations, just remember that an astrologer told my mom that I would live into my 80's. ;)

Clearing out the pantry

As spring approaches, and as I delve into my happiness project, I have been experiencing the strong urge to declutter my life. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. What an overwhelming task. I have lived in my home for 5 years now. It's the longest I have ever lived in one place in my entire life. I love that fact. But what I have learned is that being stationary enables me to collect more "stuff". Piles of old mail have hidden themselves away on shelves, in nooks, and crannies. Notes from friends, lovers, and nemeses stored away because I wanted to keep them for one reason or another. The good ones were to remind me of the happiness, warmth and love. The negative ones were most likely being saved for a court date. Knick knacks, copious amounts of art work, and other kidlet stuff are abound. Way too many shoes. Clothes that have been on the hanger so long they literally have collected dust. More yarn that I will ever need. Camping gear. And all of this, just in my bedroom closet. It's ridiculous. I spent three hours in there today. Three garbage bags of recycling, two of clothes, one of paper needing to be shredded and then recycled, one giant one of craft supplies, and two of random knick knacks. It's organized. It's spacious. It's awesome. As I dropped off the donations and dumped the recycling, I felt so light and airy that I wanted to dance.

I realized something today. I started out with the intention of clearing my physical clutter because at first glance that would be the easiest to tackle. However, I noticed that most of my physical clutter is tied to me emotionally in some way. It makes perfect sense, but it was an AHA moment for me. Letting it all go was such a relief, yet also a very emotional experience for me. Reading through letters I was reminded how wonderful the people in my life are, and how some of those connections have disappeared. Going through clothes and jewelry I forgot I even owned I was reminded of occasions in which they were worn. Some good, some bad. The most difficult was the journal of dealings and goings on between my childs father and I right after I left. Reading the things he did or said put me right there all over again. Being able to look at all of these experiences, and then let them go, or put them away, was so freeing!

I have always been a sentimental person. I have a piece of yarn that was part of a worship service at a youth con where I met my two best friends at when I was 15. I have stupid overwhelming stacks of pictures from all different parts of my life. But today I noticed that while it's nice to be able to look back at theses things, it weighs me down more than I'd like. Maybe I have romaticized parts of my past, and that interferes with my present because nothing now is as good as what I created in my mind as 'then'. Also, knowing that there were piles of old bills, invoices, pay stubs was so depressing. Seeing them was like adding one more weight to my shoulders. That constant reminders of the money I owe, the money I don't have, the money I wasn't smart with. I don't need that hanging over my day. Throwing out the paper part of those lessons doesn't mean I will have learned less from my experiences in the past. I still have that in me.

Also, seeing so much evidence of my work and my progress makes me feel like a bad ass!

Lessons learned in 2009-Not a ball of GO!

I am not one of those people who can go go go go go until all I am is a big ball of working GO. At the beginning of this year I had an awesome job. Awesome in the sense that had I really been cut out for it, I would have done great things. Not that I didn't do GOOD things, I just could have done better. Had I gone for gold, I would have sacrificed a good deal of my time with my daughter, which is not an option, and I would not have been able to be there for my family in the times they have needed me over the course of the last ten months.

This was also a big lesson for the feminist in me because it forced me to accept that I desire more stereotypically 'female' roles in life. I want to stay home and homeschool my kid, or at the very least play. My family is more important to me than my job and nothing can convince me otherwise. I want to cook for people, teach people, heal people. My 40+ hour a week job helping little college activists do their thing was great, but not satisfying in the way I have learned that I need in order to be able to pour my heart into my work. I had to accept that while I want to change the world, I definitely want to do it in my own unique way that is not at that pace. The next quest comes in discovering that.

This also brought along another lesson. I can't do everything I would like to. Especially not all at once. And I have to say no sometimes. This one has been in the making for years. But it definitely came to a head this year. I have had to sit down and really think about how I want to be spending my time and if I take something else on, am I going to be satisified with the time that leaves me for the rest of my life. In doing this I stepped back from a lot of volunteer work, I resigned from the district board, and I have taken less at church and school. The result? I got to spend the summer with Emily with little else to be responsible to. It was glorious. And this has also left room this fall to be involved with her school too. (OH GAWD! I'M ONE OF THEM! next stop the PTA meeting...) I learned all over again the joy and value of having true connection with my little girl, and was reminded over and over in all the small magical moments we shared why this is my priority, why this is what I am meant to be doing right now.

I guess you could say I got a dose of learning to bite off only what I can chew...

Show me what is possible

"Touch me with the mornin sun,
when I feel impossible,
show me what is possible,
teach me love invincible."
(Michael Franti)

This morning I woke up to a beam of sunlight shining straight onto my chest, my heart. It was a cloudy morning, the birds rejoicing with song, and a tiny break in the clouds that I was blessed enough to feel. It is moments like these that leave me feeling a little more humble than the day before.

I have been feeling a little helpless lately. I am having an educational crisis in that I have no idea what to major in to accomplish what I want to. There are so many choices, none quite fit what I want to do. I have been feeling such an extreme lack of space at points that I found myself driving the other night just for the sake of feeling the wind brush my face as I sped down the road, so I could feel the space and movement. I am at peace with my decisions to cut certain people out of my life, yet am still dealing with the sorrow of letting go. I am confident and steady as a single person, yet it would be really nice to have someone to curl up next to. I just am not ready to let anyone in. (I am very proud of myself for recognizing that though, and honoring it.)

Last night as I was doing yoga at 3am (insomniacs R'us) I felt all this stress welling up inside of me. It isn't all a bad kind of stress, more of a growing kind of stress, but it is taking it's toll in the sense that my mind won't shut off. As has happened often in times of growth, as I knelt into child's pose, something inside of me burst and tears were rolling down my face. It felt like such a relief to be letting some of it go. I realized I have been feeling like I need to hold a certain composure and air of stability because the other people in my life lately are all experiencing crisis and seeking solace or words of advice and I felt that me breaking down was not an option. I wouldn't let myself express my worries because I felt I had to be the strong one, yet in being strong, I started to ignore myself, forgetting parts of the path I chose to take, hence leading to the helpless feeling. As I stood and entered into mountain pose, the moonlight got brighter, it felt like she was shining right at me, and I was comforted. Suddenly exhausted, I closed my session, and went to bed. I dreamt of my Grandma Emily. We were sitting in her yard, in the grass, looking at the moon. My grandmother said to me "She wants you to know that in acknowledging your weakness, you only grow stronger." She smiled. "And I want you to know that we love you, and are here. Once you let yourself be who you are, all of who you are, and free up the space in your mind and heart, you will be able to hear us and see us better. We are here."

Woah.

Sometimes, the answers we seek have the strangest, yet most awesome, ways of creeping into our consciousness. I am yet again reminded how blessed my life is to be cradled my so much spirit and love, I only need to slow down and breathe to be able to see it, and hear it.

My experiences in life have taught me a lot about what love is NOT. Or what it's not supposed to be rather. I am grateful for all of these experiences but sometimes I wonder if this has created a hurdle to finding what love is. I am not saying that my life isn't full of love, because I have an abundance of it. But as I reflect back on the healthier serious relationships I have had, I can see that the fear and pain coming from the unhealthy ones took hold when things got rough and definitely affected the way I deal with things. I do not stick around very long when things get hard, I tend to run instead of examining what may be causing my emotion or lack thereof.

Recently someone has come back into my life that I walked away from and never looked back. Well, never looked back until I was looking at him in the face and something inside of me cracked. Is giving a relationship a second chance being too optimistic? Am I being a fool in thinking that it's worth a shot?

I realize more and more that I have some unhealthy communication habits that I use to protect myself. What I can't rationalize or even find, is what I am protecting myself from. I am beginning to think that maybe second chances are worth it. It'd be foolish to walk away again from something that feels right just because I am scared of the issues within myself that it is going to force me to face. The challenge comes in not blaming everything on that and not seeing the fact that its not going to work if it comes to that point. Oy.