The Kid In Me Honors The Kid In You

Why do they predict snow that is going to be deep enough to be the deepest snow we have had in a number of years and then gradually work back from that tantalizing tidbit changing the prediction to a heavy wintry mix with one to two inches of snow? Why don't they start out predicting a heavy wintry mix with possibly1 to 2 inches of snow and after the next couple of advertisements ,oh delicious surprise, announce the new prediction of at least a foot of snow that will fall in heavy flakes blowing and floating to the ground; snow flakes like I saw growing up. Big, fat flakes floating through the night air onto my upturned face and my outstretched tongue. Illuminated by the street lamp or the porch light the falling snow looked as if God were shredding the clouds, pouring them down  for our pleasure. Oh, did I mention that the title of this post refers to the part of me that gets drawn into the anticipation of snow in an intensity like that of my seven year old grandson's. Yes, I moan about it and say adult things like, "What a bother! The kids will miss school. People will wreck their cars." emulating the adultness that is guaranteed to suck the joy out of joy. All the while the kid in me is jumping up and down, hanging on every weather word, yearning for snow up to my knees. Oh, please! Please! A night of snowy wonder filled with pure joy falling to the ground in huge, sloppy snowflakes accumulating up to my knees would be just what the doctor ordered.

Ah, Heck! I Wanna Be Silly!

I love the British. I freaking love the British! La Da Dee Dah!

Back In The Saddle Again

Yep! I am back in the saddle again. Ever the recovering alcoholic, meaning I am continually beset by the belief that, after 30 years of sobriety, I can attend zero meetings for long periods of time without consequence. Ever the recovering alcoholic I must admit, much to the despair of well meaning friends, that I am an alcoholic, not that I am a recovered alcoholic. Members of certain Christian groups view this as an affirmation that inherently denies the redeeming grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. I, on the other hand, believe it would be refreshing if, before the sermon in church, we went around the room and said this, "I am Elizabeth Baron and I am a sinner." You would, of course, replace the name with your own name. When dealing with religious forms of behavior detail is important. Once the identification with our commonality was affirmed we could relax and hear what the Bible has to say about the grace of God, redemption and the ways to live our lives on a daily basis without the tyranny of sin. But, I am already following that path with great success in my personal walk. I have not been doing the same with my alcoholism. I have not been attending the meetings where I identify myself with others who say they are alcoholics and have a desire to stop drinking. The pay off for skipping that fellowship with others like myself and listening to how they stay sober and listening to the literature that shows us the way to live sober one day at a time has been my regression into behavior patterns that are harmful to myself. I don't know why I am writing this and using extremely long run-on sentences. I meant to write stream of consciousness or perhaps pontificate on a random topic...keep it light for the night. Anyhow, the moment I began attending meetings again I felt relief. I confessed to a room full of people that I was out of control in an area of my life. I asked for someone to take me aside and give me a tough talking to and, wouldn't you know it, God had just the right woman in that room on that day. She brought it to me. Sweet. Southern. Tender. She had me on the ropes bringing me the truth, confronting me with my own words, loving me, praying with me and leaving me with a clarity of perspective that I desperately needed. So, heck, I don't know what I am actually trying to say in this post. God saw fit for me to find the rooms of AA. AA gave me the path that sent me back to God. When I plug in both God's will for my life and what I learn about myself in AA I am safe in the arms of Jesus and I am a sober, contributing member of society serving God. I am back in the saddle again.

UNTITLED

Melancholia permeates me tonight. Sadness hangs around me as if I were standing down the road in this picture. I am on the road less traveled. I have been on the busy thoroughfares of my psyche. I have been putting off this time and this moment by feeding my addiction to avoiding discomfort, to fear, to surrendering to the lies I told myelf and accepting them as truth. Today I took the exit from that busy, busy thoroughfare. I have arrived at the road less traveled. The road where I will face my fear, endure an intense discomfort and tell the truth that is the truth as I surrender myself to save myself. Tonight is the first night of denying myself the bittwersweet taste of denial. Tonight is the first step towards my freedom from my bondage to self. Tonight is the night I pass the future, the circumstances and the results to come in God's hands. Tonight is the night I let go. I do not want to die on the thoroughfare of lies. I do not want to harm others as I avoid facing the depth of my denial. I choose to be willing. I choose to accept the truth with love and respect for whomever I may have been holding in a prison of my fears while denying them the dignity of their own freedom to choose their path without interference from the deathly grip of my dysfunctions. The road less traveled reveals a bit of itself while cloaking itself in fog further on ahead. Despite the depth of my investment in minding someone else's life and despite the gripping discomfort I feel inside...despite that....I feel lighter, less burdened. My first step onto the road less travelled has been accomplished. I sense freedom up around the bend. I pray that I will meet those I love along this road. I pray we will share our stories with weary travelers. "I was once at the beginning too. Yes, I felt full of fear and hesitation. Yes, as I walked on my burdens lifted, my heart began to rejoice and I felt an intoxicating love for the God who brought me here. I am walking this road. You can too, my brother and my sister."

I Couldn't Say It Better

I am posting this TED talk because it is dynamic, honest and as descriptive of depression as anything I have heard to this point in time. STOP!! Don't have contempt prior to investigation! Give the guy a chance. If this isn't for you then it may well be something you will want to share with someone else. Love!

Click on the link and, if a little link pops up just under the long link, click on it! I would keep trying to embed the video but I am too tired and anyone who can understand the talk I am posting can also click on a couple of links without too much inconvenience.  Peace!


http://www.ted.com/talks/andrew_solomon_depression_the_secret_we_share.html

 

It's Raining Cats. Who Knew?

Ambivalence would have been a word I used to describe my response to cats until these last few years. Now I have three and a half cats inhabititing my house more or less. Two of them go in and out. One by desire, the other by demand as he is an invited guest I took in during the bad weather. Of course, me being me and the cat being the cat he stays in my room with the door closed, has food and water and his own lit!ter and has claimed my pillow as his cat bed. The door is closed because the three cats who hold ownership in my home will not take kindly to a guest in their midst.

This invited cat cannot stay forever. He could but he can't as my husband has set a three cat limit. He was the one who wanted...well...one of the cats. I approached the other two about joining our little home. One of my finds was, at the time, a small kitten with huge, beautiful eyes and a lovely disposition. He was destined to the feral life had I not intervened. A little time has passed. He is growing and asserting what can only be referred to as "tom cat" traits. He "da man"! Pity for him that all our cats are male. He is the only one with his "goods" intact. Nor for much longer though.

This week, given my own way, we would have acquired the cat in the bedroom and the tiny dog my son needs to give away. My husband is mentally challenged at this point in his life but not so much that he has not noticed the increasing ratio of animals to humans. This afternoon he made it clear that he will not support this madness....dare I say, eccentricity...that seems to have taken over me. In a magnanimous mood and secretly grateful that he is less delusional than I am on this subject, I agreed that, in the end there will be only three cats and no dog. I did not mention the other dog I love. Best to know when to shut my mouth. (Did I hear snickering in the audience?")

Should Mr. Owl come calling I will be hard pressed to say no to him but I have my priorities if not my marbles. Mr. Owl may do a fly over and that simply must be the extent of it. If he will let me know the day and time I will stand outside and send him a hoot or two. The neighbors have learned now that I do walk around the neighborhood hooting , often in my p.j.'s and carrying a child's backpack with my stuff in it. I work from my mom's house so tote things back and forth in all manner of outfits depending on the time of day and my fine sense of fashion. (I insist you stop that snickering in the audience!! I like p.j.'s and plastic shoes and my kinda pink dotted bookbag.)

It is almost time to get up so I will go to bed now. Gotta move that darn cat off my pillow first!

 

 

 

 



The Comfort of an Old Friendship

I SAW HIM TONIGHT!! Coldest night in years! Light wind blowing! I step out of my car without a glance towards the water tower and I hear the very sound you can hear in this video. Mr. Owl? Is that you? I glance towards the woods near our home. The distinct call of an owl once again. I glance to the top of the water tower through tree limbs in my neighbor's yard. DANG!! MR. OWL? Where have you been you bodacious old hoot owl? I missed you. Why are you on the tippy top of the water tower on a night like this one? What's that you say? Showing off? Can't find your mate? The wind disturbs the sound of your call. Oh well, nothing is more important than you simply being there on the water tower, calling out as I step from the car. You give me great comfort, my friend!Great comfort indeed! Welcome home!

If It Is Saturday, It Will Soon Be Sunday!

Nearly 8:00 p.m. on Saturday night. Woman with blog sits in front of laptop determining the wisdom of posting at this early hour in the evening. Woman comes face to face with agreement with self to improve sleeping habits. Woman accepts that 1:00 a.m. is not an improvement of her sleeping habits. Woman wonders if creativity is even available at such an early hour in the evening. She determines to try despite her identification with a fantasy of late nights in a large city in an apartment situated over a late night deli with a neon, blinking light casting shadows into the apartment. Film Noir come to life..the woman imagines herself sitting in this small apartment, window open, rain falling, noise from the streets drifting up through the open window, laptop open, cigarette smoke streaming from her lips, drawn back in thru her nostrils and back out again...frenching the cigarette and thinking, thinking, thinking. She loves the city, loves the smell of wet pavement, sounds of car wheels running through puddles, laughter, voices, faint music from a club down the street. Her mind turns to her writing. She writes of a woman who lives in a mobile home near the coast of North Carolina with her husband, three cats and the sounds of the t.v. coming down the hall from the living room. She writes of a woman who's family lives all around her, a woman who is chronically ill with one thing or the other and far too interwoven with her family for her own good. A deep drag on the cigarette, eyes closed, the woman in the apartment imagines the smell of the ocean air, the coastal storm, the quietness of a small, small city near the ocean in North Carolina. A long stream of cigarette smoke streams slowly from her nostrils. Yes, that is the setting, that is the woman she will write of, the woman she will bring to life. She smiles. It will be a long, long evening of writing, creating, imagining. She will go to bed when the neon light no longer casts a shadow. She will close the window, draw the drapes, shut down the laptop, crawl under the covers of her bed and sleep a deep, dream-filled sleep. Her last thoughts are of a name for this woman by the coast. She wants something different. Something she has not heard before. A name drawn from her imagination, perhaps a name she will choose on a whim, a lark!

The Odious Burden of Self

I DON'T THINK I AM GOING TO GET THIS UNTIL I BELIEVE I DESERVE PEACE!

Facebook Withdrawls, New Year Word, Where is Mr. Owl and Such as That

Happy New Year to all of you guys who read this blog! I think there may be about 7 of you on a good day. Not a bad showing for something I don't even remember the address to when I do want to tell someone about it!

So, first, and I just thought of this, I have a young member of "the program" mentioning to me that I need to be in meetings. Every conversation includes that "go to meetings" thing and I'm like "whatever" even though I know he is right. Even though I have been telling myself that for awhile now. It is having him tell me that brings out the rebellion in me which is one of the red flags telling me I need to "go to meetings". To those of us who are members it seems the entire world knows about meetings but I know that isn't true after many conversations with people who go "AA??" So, I'm like this....I'm gonna go to some meetings. What's the worst that could happen? I get in a better mood!?See that alone will rob me of drama that must be of value to me in some way since I have not treated it properly by "going to meetings" or praying about it that much. I'm a slacker right now. If you knew my life you would be like, "UM-m-m, girl, your house is on fire!" A little louder, "Girl, Your House Is On Fire!!" and then "GIRL! YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIRE!"! If you worked what they call a "good program" you would, after the third attempt, watch me burn in the fire, because you aren't allowed to rob me of the dignity of making my own decisions. But, I don't feel as if my house is on fire. That alone may be a HUGE red flag! Are you following any of this because what I meant to write about was having Facebook withdrawal but I realized that only lasted about thirty minutes and I started feeling better shortly after those thirty minutes. So I dunno if I was as invested as I thought I was in other people's lives, dramas, opinions, recipes, cartoons, etc. Facebook has been my way of keeping up with my daughter and her family. I suppose now I will call once in awhile and actually speak to someone. I didn't have the time before because I was on Facebook. Faceless communications with connotations open for interpretation unless someone puts a "f" word in front of their statement and then you are suppose to know that what they are gonna say after that most versatile of words, is not going to be left up to interpretation because the "f" word is an entry word indicating commitment, investment, dedication to whatever comes next in the conversation. Often these conversations also consist of "like", "you know", "to be honest with you"...word fragments scattered throughout the conversation following the emphasizing "f" word. How do I know all this? Cause, "f", man, like you know, to be honest with you, I have done it before. That's how I know. And, that is all I have to say about Facebook withdrawal. Dang! What a ridiculous topic in the first place! Facebook withdrawal? As if...!

The New Year Word for me is Discipline! If you know me that is self-explanatory. If you don't know me but have happened onto this blog, my word for the year has nothing to do with bondage, ropes, chains, whips or other sordid connotations. I suppose an argument could be made that I am in bondage to my self. I will allow that thought to have life. It is true. This year I am going to practice discipling habits that have a negative value in my life. I am breaking that discipline right now since it is 1 a.m. and I am not in bed and asleep. Or I could be improving because it is not yet 3 a.m. with me awake fighting off a resentment that the night is not longer, that the sun will soon come out and spoil my perfectly good long evening! That I will, at some point collapse from fatigue and drift into hallucinations and a horrible, nasty mood figures into the picture. Sleep is vital. This is where discipline is required. For the better part of me to feel the love I want to learn the discipline of going to bed at a reasonable hour when compared to the hour that I will awake. Why is it that sweets put weight on my body and 3 hours of sleep just won't do the job? It is not fair. Really not fair. But, a wise woman once asked me, "Who said life is fair?" and I did not have an answer, of course. I know she is asleep at this very moment and will wake up tomorrow with clarity and that irritating and eternal joy she possesses. I want that, too. I just don't want to do the work to get it...oh rats! I am going to end here and get in the bed.I have shamed my ownself into submission.

I don't know where Mr. Owl has gone. I wish him well. I miss him.

Peace out, my friends! Love!