To Jump or hang from the ledge.......

So, I quit my job on Friday. Over the weekend, I reconsidered and fortunately, I was able to rescind my resignation. I'm not happy with myself. Once again, I chickened out. My friends, God Bless them, all supported me in their own ways. I, however, did not support myself. This is a big issue for me. And, after spending most of last year in therapy, you'd think I'd have some of this stuff hammered out. I have been so stressed out (I actually hate that phrase, "stressed out", it's soooo 90's) that I just folded in on myself and couldn't seem to find my way out. Panic set in and I just reacted. I'm not sure my reactive behavior wasn't wrong, because I was listening to my heart (physically and metaphorically) and for a brief second I honored my feelings.....and those were....."f---k this s--t, I hate myself for doing battle everyday without any cause". And, for feeling like a failure. I want to do something with my whole heart, not something that is breaking my heart down, as well as my spirit. I believe we have the power to choose. I literally preach this mantra, 'you have the power to choose', yet, I am paralyzed by the idea of choosing to be happy. Or, rather to take a risk. I actively choose to stay in a job that hurts my soul. I know, a little melodramtatic, however, seriously, that's how I feel, like I'm killing my own spirit. It's like a form of spiritual suicide. The thing is, my gut told me I would be okay if I left, if I just honored my feelings and jumped, I would be okay. But, reason stepped in and talked me out of trusting my intuition. Isn't that what happens to us as we grow up? We know ourselves better when we are little kids than we do as adults because we haven't spent our whole lives being told to 'walk the path you're told to walk', 'do the right thing', 'be responsible'. When we're a little kid we don't know our limitations, we think the whole world is revovling around us and nothing can go wrong, we believe in ourselves, intrinsically. Ah, but to restore that belief in myself, to KNOW what I did as a child. Isn't that funny we spend our lives yearning to KNOW things and all along if we just listened to that little kid we once were, we'd know everything we needed. We live our lives backwards, yes, this has been discovered before I just thought it outloud, but, until you live it.......

So, because I quit my job and scared myself....I did make some inroads to a plan and I am executing. It's time to start taking better care of my body....so, Yoga starts next week and I will begin with that. Further,I think I need to do some research on resume writing and resume writers. Then, research on places where I might be able to apply my heart. While I'm not happy with the hungry dog of fear nipping at my heals, I am trying to find compassion for myself and at the very least be proactive, instead of reactive, moving forward. One of many lessons I'm sure I'll take away from my small lapse in 'reason', is that I am so close to jumping I should either step away from the ledge, or begin to pack my parachute......

"The only way to have a life is to commit to it like crazy". Angelina Jolie

Now, she is one crazy broad. Angeline Jolie. Brad Pitt aside, let's think about this....six kids, make movies, travel the world doing good.....be richer than your wildest dreams and look good doing it. I don't necessarily find her inspirational, but, if she weren't famous maybe I could get close to being inspired.....that's just my judge sitting on my shoulder pointing out that lots of people have equally fabulous lives, but, we don't know about it because they aren't "Angelina Jolie", right? So, mostly I was admiring how she appears to live her quote and that made me jealous that she has the balls to do just that, commit to a life, like crazy. Now, sorting out the part where I figure out what I want my life to be about.....that would be the hard part. Baby steps, she says......baby steps. Have I mentioned that I am not a patient person, well, I'm not. I want my fabulous life, NOW! Baby steps...remember, baby steps.

So, here's what I do know, I love to write. I've secretly been a writer most of my life. Well, maybe not entirely secretly, but, I haven't embraced it, nor have I really shared it with too many people. As a teen I wrote many angst ridden poems, love letters, and small essays, not even really essays, but, blurbs. These pagees of emotion are still around, and every so often I get them out and read through them....reliving the horror that is teen angst. So, writing is within me....waiting to be nurtured, encouraged, embraced and honed. This is something I would like to do. Could I do it and make money? Do I have the chops to brave it out in the world with my heart wide open like a target waiting for the hat trick? I'd like to think I might have the guts....I've been through alot and survived worse things, I think.

And, I know something else; I want to give - until I don't hurt anymore. What do I have to give? My heart, literally. But, first I have to commit and I don't know how. I'm not talking about committing to a romantic relationship, I'm talking about committing to love, unromantic, selfless, spiritual love. Like the nun said; "In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love". (Mother Theresa). So, committing like crazy to brandishing my heart every single day of my life to give someone love, kindness, hope and peace, that is what I have to figure out how to do. Crazy is right. Behind the scenes, I am sorting through the concept I have brewing on how I might find this craziness, bare with me, the fear follows me around like a hungry, stray dog, (which as a dog lover I am always inclined to feed), so, I have to decide how I might save the dog, yet, not feed the fear.

A Hero's welcome...................

I watched a movie two nights ago that is still affecting me. The movie was done by HBO; "Taking Chance", staring Kevin Bacon. It is the story of one man's journey escorting a fallen Marine home. I saw the previews for it almost a month ago and made a note to myself to watch it. I didn't have HBO at the time and decided I would upgrade my t.v. service for one month in order to watch this particular movie. As circumstances would have it, and as a result of the move, I ended up with HBO as part of my new t.v. scheduling. In all of the hullabaloo related to the move I'd forgotten that I was going to make arrangements to watch this movie....on Sunday evening as I was channel surfing I stumbled on it. This movie is a beautiful tribute to every fallen military person. It is also a tribute to those who have the honor of escorting one home. Currently, my nephew, Anthony Lee Brown is serving in the 1st Cavalry division of the Army in Iraq.....I don't want to relate this movie to him, however, I could not help but think of him throughout the whole movie. In my family, we don't talk about the realities of what might happen to Anthony, in fact, we usually just invite the elephant in the room to stay for dinner, all the while walking around it. Again, the movie is beautiful and if you have an opportunity, watch it, but, make sure to secure a box of kleenex for comfort, you'll need it. I sobbed through most ot if, not because I mourned for the fallen Marine, who LT. Col. Mike Strobl escorted home, surely I cried for that young man, but, more than that, I cried for what we all survive because of him. And, I cried with tears of pride for the acts of kindness that every day Americans show throughout the journey Mike makes escorting Chance home. And for the kind, dedication and reverence of the people who prepare Chance for his journey home. This movie gives us a glimpse of what preparation is made to transport a fallen Soldier, Marine, Airman or Sailor home. Kevin Bacon nails his role as Lt. Col. Mike Strobl and you can't help but change with him as he makes the trip from the east coast to Wyoming, where Chance's family waits for him. I immediatly went the HBO web-site to see if the movie will be released on DVD and pre-ordered it for it's release in May.

I don't want to think about what Anthony endures while he is away, but, I do not look away from the very real possibility that something could happen to him. I pray for him......constantly. This is Anthony's second tour in Iraq and I look forward to the day when he will come home, on his own steam, a Hero's welcome.

Taking the risk to blossom.......the beginning

Now that the move is over, I can begin to focus on what I’d like to do with myself. You know explore that inkling I mentioned in one of my first blogs. I recently had a reading with a spiritual astrologer,( yes, I believe in astrology and what it can tell a person about themselves and about others), that reading actually inspired this blog, so, going forward from that reading I am going to delve into the parts of me that my chart tells me to embrace. This is not the first time I’ve used my birth chart to help me understand myself and as I should have known, this reading was really no different from the last….I am nowhere near where I am supposed to be in my career path/life’s work. I am in a field that is cut throat, not always ethical, very stressful and totally unfulfilling and I have hated it for 24 years. I know, pathetic, eh? Staying in a career that you hate for that amount of time is just pure self loathing and lack of esteem…..well, I guess I should cut myself some slack, fear is a great motivator and I’ve been scared my whole life of stepping outside of a known security. I do not have a college education and I started in the industry I am in at the age of 18, right out of high school at a place my Mom worked, because the job was handed to me and I didn’t know any better. It completely amazes me how fast 24 years went by. I’ve been working in my field for over half my life. That is a long time to hate your work. And, I was out, but that year and a half was spent caring for my Grandmother and grieving her loss, so, I did not figure out in time what I wanted to do with myself before my medical insurance ran out and therefore, I let fear take over again and I went back to hell (this is what I affectionately call my work). Hell get’s uglier everyday and I am not as young as I used to be, so, my patience (mind you I am not by nature a patient person anyway) is very thin, very thin, so, I’m pretty sure I’m not long for hell and so, begins more excavating, more digging, more growing, more pain, more fear. Please do not misunderstand my griping about my job as being ungrateful, given the current jobless rate, I absolutely appreciate the position I am in and wake up every morning thanking the Divine for a job at all, yet still dreading the day ahead. People always feel compelled to remind you of these kinds of things when you’re griping, like that is actually going to make your unhappiness better, the irony is that it only makes me feel worse for hating what most people would be ecstatic for. Yes, just one big dichotomy I am. (Check that out a big word, eh?) See, no college education and I found that word! I hope it means what I think it means…….Okay, back on course. I have a lot to offer the world, my small world and the greater world and I intend to give until I don’t hurt anymore.

Moved.....to tears

Well, the move is done. I am spun. I knew it would be difficult and sad. On moving day things were so crazy and the ever watchful eye of my parents huddled over me, so, to save them, I held my composure. Since moving day, I've been so busy starting the process of settling, while still working 10 hour days and literally falling into bed only to read until I dozed off, that I have not allowed myself the emotional release I have waiting at the gate, until today. I had to return to the Ranch to leave some things for my Dad and to collect some of my own. He was not there, no one was, not even a spirit. I shuddered as I walked in through the garage door as I did so many days before, even in the days when Mom J was there, knowing the landscape of her dining nook and living room had changed dramatically. The tears began and they fell, undaunted by my will not to cry, literally pouring down my cheeks, spilling on my jacket and the floor. I walked through the house, still crying, looking in each room, recognition of all the things my Dad moved in and recognition of my heart, still mourning my Grandmother, even now, so far away from her departure, pulled on the tears. The mixture of his things and her memory just felt like a betrayal. I don't know how else to describe it. My Grandmother did not want my Dad to have her house, but, My Mother beleived that him owning it, not losing it, was the lesser of two evils. I am conflicted by my loyalty to my Grandmother and my desire to some day own the house myself. These things all play into my muddle of emotions. Family loyalties are tricky, even ones that are not coupled with any truly bad feelings between family members, they sometimes are even harder to sort out because there is no clearly defined betrayal. I've been trying to work this out in my head and my heart for many months now, knowing this day would come. I have not come to terms with it and am going to find it hard to settle in where I am and still go out to the Ranch to visit my Father. As I write this, I know I need to find a way to let go, to give myself the necessary grieving time for the 'loss' of my home, to love myself enough to say, "It's okay to cry, to feel, to live with what you're feeling and to honor your heart". More grief, more growing, more pain, all a part of really living. So, for this moment, I choose to look forward instead of behind......because really living is what I want to do.

The Long Goodbye..............

So, on the eve before I begin my final hours in my Grandparents home, I find myself sorting through photos I have taken of this place in the last 18 months. It blows me away, the changes that have occured out here in just that short time. It hardly looks or feels the same. And, yet, my Grandparents still haunt me here. I miss them. My heart is heavy with the departure on the horizon and my poor Father is doing everything he can to soften the blow.....the harder he tries, the more blunders he makes. I know I have to go and my whole heart is crying, "I am sorry Mom and Papa, I did the best I could and if I could have done better I would have". I feel like I'm abandoning them with every box I pack and every old item I leave behind. Regret dogs me once again as I look around and wonder how we might have done things differently. So, much to write about, without a clue where to begin. When I moved out here to care for Mom J, the grounds were horribly overgrown and completely unkempt. We did have a friend keeping the possiblity of fire hazard at bay, however, the over growth at the front door was pretty 'Munsters' like. But, shortly after I moved out here we began cleaning things up as we knew that we'd be selling the house at some future point. I took photos of each step, because that's what I do and also while Mom J was still alive I would show her the pictures of our progress. We had landscapers out here twice to sort out the front and back yards....the second gig was a set of Twin Brothers, Wes and Wayne....they were adorable and very nice and they did a kick ass job...anyway, I photographed the job as we went along so they would have the photos for their own 'portfolio'. I have many pics of this old place over the span of our adventures out here. I even have this fabulous series of "cowboy portraits" that I took of some of THE most hunky cowboys you ever want to see....and maybe someday, I'll showcase them here!!!! But, that's another blog altogether. I have some really great shots in black and white, taken with a 'FILM' camera, you remember those, right, they called them 35mm SLR's....ha ha ha ha....some of the old corral in various stages of disrepair and some of the ol' barn. Mom J got the biggest kick out of my use of the old place for my portraiture and usually my subjects enjoyed our photo shoots out here just as much. I always felt Papa out there with me and my subjects as we captured their images. One time, a couple of years after Papa died I came out to the Ranch on his birthday, with a bouquet of flowers and tied them to a post at the corral in memoriam of him. I sat in the back of my truck in the middle of the pasture for hours, just talking to him. We tried to solve some of the World's problems, but, obviously, we were not very successful. I miss him and his drawl. So, tomorrow my sister is coming out to help me with the final boxes and I think more than anything I asked her to come out here so that I won't be too alone with my thoughts. There will be one final 'removal' that will be the hardest, my grandparents had separate bedrooms for all of my life and shortly after they moved into the Ranch, as a handmade Christmas present my sister and I made them signs for their bedrooms - Mom for Mom J's room and Papa for his room - out of bread dough clay and stained wood. To this day those signs still hang over their bedroom doors - tomorrow I will bring them down and pack them with some of the remaining memorabilia that I have yet to box. It will then be official - Mom and Papa will have left the building........

A peek at the band.....

I can't resist, I have to post one shot of the band we enjoyed Saturday night. I will freely admit the Kilt was killing me.....the fiddle player ROCKED it, as did his Kilt......check them out if you get a chance, Tempest.

Writing even just a little, everyday............

So, I've been busy. Livng. Well, packing, too. I actually went out Saturday night, something I rarely do, with friends for a birthday celebration. A great time was had by all, especially the birthday girl. We saw an amazing Celtic band, Tempest, and I did my best to 'dance me boots off'! I have skills as a silversmith, so, I spent most of Saturday fabricating my friend's birthday gift, so, I didn't get much packing done, therefore, I spent ALL DAY Sunday packing....literally, from 7:30 a.m to 8:00 p.m., I was exhausted when it was time to get up for work today. I think the older I get, the shorter the days get. I can't even believe it's already March 2009. It feels like it was only yesterday when I moved in here. I had so many plans for how I was going to change my life and despite the fact that I have almost completely reverted back to where I was before I moved in here, I know that I am a different person today, much different. I also feel stronger than I ever have, more at peace with who I am, or rather who I am allowing myself to become......ME. I've been reading a new book and a piece of advice from the book is to write everyday, even if it's just a little bit, just do it everyday. I'm behind a few days, however, living gives us things to write about, right? And, so, I write. I had an opportunity today to go by my new home and see it empty, which helped me get a perspective of how my belongings are going to fit in the place, I took photos. My friend, Ricky is getting the place all cleaned up and fixing some things that needed taking care of. I believe it will make a good home for me. At least for right now, while I am excavating my soul for guidance regarding my future. I am anxious to get settled at the new place, I need to feel rooted for awhile. As much as I love my Grandmother's house and hate to leave it, truly for the almost two years I've lived here I've known it was always temporary. Now, I can be indefinitely rooted, or rather, I do not have a 'due date' for the time being. This is somewhat liberating and I am looking forward to that simple freedom. With that stability, I can actually focus on writing, make it part of my day, everyday, not just on the days when I'm not packing. I've included one of the photos I took of the new place, should have taken a pic of the outside, but, it slipped my mind, I was more interested in where all of my furniture was going to go. Silly me.