Posted on by Chasing Worms

Beautiful Chaos

This past two weeks have been so busy. I get anxious when my days are this busy; I feel like things are flying out of control. “Stop….take a deep breath….slow down.” Words I repeat to my self throughout the day when I feel like it’s too much.

Sometimes life just gets that way, chaotic. I’m one of those people that has to have everything organized, so when things get a little nuts and out of control, it can upset my apple cart. Writing things down helps. I’m a list maker. I love making a list because everything is in the forefront of my mind and better yet, I can cross them off when they are done! YES! I’m sure I’m not the only one like this and I won’t be the last.

Tonight I decided to give it all up for the night. I’m sitting here in my office with the window open, the fresh smell of the forest after a good old-fashioned thunderstorm drifts through. There’s a small animal crying somewhere and I wonder if it’s mother is close by. Squirrels are chattering and fighting over something. They make me laugh watching them. Crickets are starting up their songs, which bring back memories of childhood summers. I love this time of year and I love the peacefulness right now. This, the beautiful sound of silence, the sound of nature, is soothing to my soul and reminds me it’s ok to sit back and enjoy it.

Tomorrow is another day, a little more beautiful chaos, and another chance to start over. I need to remember this moment though and realize it is available to me every day, every night and all I have to do is reach for it. Chaos makes me crazy but there is beauty in those moments too, so it’s all good. A little nutty, a little chaotic and a whole lot of happy.

Posted on by Chasing Worms

She is a Spitfire

Today my husband and I got into conversations about our lives as kids growing up. My fondest memories of my mother are of her being a spitfire that set people in their place. What was so interesting about our conversation is that I had just gone down this memory lane with my mother about a week ago. How ironic.

I asked my mother if she remembered the time my school (Jr. High) called her because they felt my skirt was too short. (This was when mini skirts had just come in style). “Oh Yes!” she told me and continued the story.

“When I got a call from the principal saying I needed to take you home to change your clothes, I got mad! I put on my shortest skirt which was just below my ass, and put on my GoGo boots! (My mother’s skirts were much shorter than mine.) I marched into his office and let him know I was not about to make my daughter wear anything different than I would! And if they didn’t like you showing your underwear, they shouldn’t have you bowling in PE in your skirt! (That was the reason I got into trouble). They should have the decency to let you put on shorts. I gave him an earful and the poor bastard didn’t know what to say, but he let you go back to class and I never heard anything again about the way you were dressed!”

As my mother recanted that story, I could hear the rebellous pride in her voice, and then she started giggling like a little girl. Moments like those in my life, watching my mother stand up for what she believed in, also taught me that it’s ok to question anything that I don’t agree with or feel comfortable about. It’s ok, to go against the grain, to be different from what everyone else is doing. My mom was never the greatest mom. But she had some great moments.

Now my mom is 78 and our relationship is better than it ever was. She is much more calm than she was when I was growing up, and people would never suspect the colorful life my mother had. But when I look at her now and those memories run through my mind, I understand why she is still so headstrong. It’s part of her DNA. It’s the accumulation of her experiences, good or bad. It took me a long time to get to this point where I could see her as all of that, instead of just being angry because she wasn’t the mother I wanted her to be.

I also realize that my journey with her is part of my accumulated experiences that have made me who I am also, and I am thankful I have her spitfire in me.

Posted on by Chasing Worms

Finding Forgiveness

This morning as I sat outside with a cup of coffee I thought about the people I love, and the struggles they find themselves in. Not that everyone doesn’t have struggles at times, but I’m talking about the struggles that keep people from being able to move forward with their life and be happy.

One little thing can help them move forward, and that is forgiveness. That little word carries more power than an army; it has a deeper, long-lasting affect on people than going hungry. It is the not forgiving that freezes our mind, continues to create fear, and fuels the anger burning inside.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean to forget, but most people can’t understand that. For every person I’ve heard say, “I’ll never forgive him/her” I think about the emotional chains they have just bound around their self. Not forgiving binds us to the person that hurt us. Forgiveness releases us from that person or persons, and allows us to move forward in our life and be happy. The bad memories don’t hold power any more, and very quickly the mind is able to focus on everything beautiful in life. Those bad experiences become a distant dream. You can still learn from those experiences without allowing yourself to drown in it. Choose the things you need to know to protect yourself in the future and understand that you never have control over someone else and their behavior. You only have control over your own actions and words.

I thought about those two people I love and still hear the anger in their voice when they call; the hurt and anxiety over something that happened more than 15 years ago is still fresh as if it happened yesterday. I want to help them, but I can’t. I can only continue to love them and offer any encouragement I can, when they ask. Unless they are ready, any help is just brushed aside.

So I sent them a prayer this morning for peace. At some point we all get tired of the anger dragging us down and eventually we become anxious to release those bad memories. The more energy we give to it, the bigger, stronger and long-lasting it will be.

At some point, they will reach their breaking point and the need to let go, and then they will find forgiveness. I hope it’s soon.

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Pondering Life and Memories

I find that as I get older, moments and memories have so much more meaning to me, if that’s at all possible. I have always had my heart on my sleeve or so I’ve been told. I’m an open book. There’s no guessing how I feel about something; even if I don’t verbalize it you can see it written all over my face.

In twenty-four hours I’m face to face with the reality of life and death. Yesterday I mourned the first anniversary of a good friend’s death. She was my best friend through junior high school (where we met), and high school. I was her maid of honor at her wedding. We both love art. And that’s how we got so close. All through school, we took the same art classes, talked about it on the phone; we even sold our art work when we could. We weren’t the most popular in school….actually we weren’t popular at all, more like a little on the “nerdy” side but not to the point where people didn’t want to hang around us.

It was the days of maxi dresses, long straight hair, Gremlin cars, and rock and roll. When our friends were cutting class and going down to the river for fun, drinking and skinny dipping; Patti and I would be sitting in classes with our “nose to the canvas” you might say.

Our favorite class of course was our art class with Miss Pollack. She must have seen some promise in our art work, because Miss Pollack applied for scholarships to the University of Kansas Summer Art Program for us. Maybe it was just our enthusiasm that made her do it. In any case, the University gave us partial scholarships, so that meant we had to raise the money to cover the rest of the tuition. Patti and I worked hard, after school and on weekends. We had cupcake sales outside of the grocery store in town and sold our art work, in an effort to raise the tuition. In short, Patti ended up going to Kansas and I didn’t, but she left promising to bring back her books and tell me everything she learned. Patti kept her promise like a true friend. It was a great summer.

Like most people after graduating high school, we all went our separate ways, but Patti and I kept in touch. Not as much as either of us would like but when we did talk again or visit, it was like we had never been apart. Patti pursued her art while raising a family and I gave mine up for a lot of years until my children were grown and then I rekindled my love for art. Now Patti is gone, way too young and I miss her and the times we talked. Patti had three loves; her children, her husband and her art. She loved talking about all three. Patti was a beautiful person, inside and out and it transcended through her art work. I find my heart has an empty place that she filled.

With the over whelming emotions of missing Patti last night, I woke this morning to a new blog posted by another friend; one much younger who is just starting this life journey with her new husband and now a baby. I find myself welling up with emotion again as I read her blog and see how she is growing and experiencing all the feelings that new mother’s feel about their children. It’s a feeling you don’t understand until you become a mother. You never understand the human capacity to love until you have children.

Even if I were just an observer…which really that’s all we are…I realize those familiar things in my life are passing buy, including the people.  It’s like watching my life pass by in slow motion and all those little things that were significant moments for me are gone.  It makes me feel very melancholy.  At the same time I’m so excited about all the new babies being born, and watching young people starting out on their own journey.  Life continues to be born in various ways all around us, and other seasons pass away silently but not without mourning.  Life always gives way to life.  What matters is what you do with that journey and how many memories you make and leave behind.

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Raw…10 Years Later

Watching the memorial services on television this morning was like a hot poker into my heart.  Time eases the pain but one never forgets and I’m always surprised how easy it is for that pain to bubble forth.

I watch how people came together on that tragic day forgetting all their prejudices, their anger and resentments.  For a time we were all one…..one soul, one family, one hurt, one love.  Today a lot of those still remain; for others it seems some of the prejudices were exacerbated. 

For some the hate is stronger…the hate for other cultures, someone not like us in America.  Though I understand it, I also wonder how anyone can heal with so much hate.

As I watch so many different races and cultures come together I wonder if any of them realize, what they give of themselves…love, tolerance, and compassion…all come back to each of them.  Maybe some do, and others don’t yet contemplate it.  It was the main lesson that Jesus taught…”to love one another as I have loved you.” 

Most days we go through life without a second thought to someone next to us on the same bus, train, airplane and doctor’s office.  Yet when a tragedy like this occurs, we are suddenly aware of each person around us…their pain, their suffering, and somehow we find it within ourselves to reach out and connect.  That tells me that love and compassion are an innate part of who we all are.  It is the Divine in us.  “I am in you and you are in Me.”  We are part of our Creator; our Creator who is all love. 

Meanness, prejudice, hate are all negative things that are learned from our environment and others.  So can one day like 9/11 change the way people think about each other?  Can we learn to love one another as Jesus tried so hard to teach us, or will it take more 9/11s?  I hope not.

“All the Love that you’ve been giving, has all been meant for you”….Moody Blues

Posted on by Chasing Worms

9.11.11

This week, like everyone else in this country, I’ve been reminded of September 11, 2001, as we come upon the 10th anniversary.  Watching the news re-run moments of that day, and listening to the stories of survivors as well as those who perished, brings back the emotions that choked up in my chest that morning.

The morning of 9/11 was unremarkable.  It started out like any other day as I got myself ready for work.  My sister-in-law called me….

“Carla have you got CNN on?”  Her voice was frantic.

“No, I don’t.  What’s going on?”

“Turn it on, turn it on, you’ve got to turn it on!!”

She was scaring me now.  I ran into the living room and flipped on the tv and saw smoke billowing from the world trade center.  I watched as the news anchor told everyone that an airplane had crashed into the building.  I couldn’t believe it.  How did that happen?  No one knew.

I sat down on my couch, forgetting about work.  A few minutes later I watched a second airplane plow right through the second tower.  People on the news were screaming and I could hear the fear in their voices.  I felt my own fear rise in my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs.  I couldn’t breathe.  A million thoughts went through my mind; who’s doing this; where is our military; does our president know about this and where is he at; do I know anyone who is in NY right now, where are my kids and I have to call my boyfriend.  My mind raced through a thousand frames of who, what, how, why….why WHY???

I didn’t go to work that day.  I was glued to the television for the next two months.  It consumed me.  I cried with every story of each life lost, and the pain of those who lost their loved ones.  It was my pain too.  How could a total stranger inflict such horror on innocent people?  I didn’t sleep much for awhile.  I kept wondering if it would happen again.  I was scared for my children and my grandchildren.

Life has changed a lot since then.  Travel has become an inconvenience but not safer.  For all the traveling I’ve done since 9/11, I’ve stood in very long security lines, taken off my shoes, my jackets, jewelry, been scanned, patted down and still have made it through their scrutiny with mace and a Swiss army knife in my purse.   Not that I did it intentionally.  I just forgot they were in there and noticed it when I got to my destinations.  “Ooooops!”  It did little for my confidence in TSA.

We got the Patriot Act after 9/11.  There are very few that understand what this new act does to the American people.  Government is more secretive than ever.  Most information about our government that we used to have access to online has been removed.  It’s our government…it shouldn’t have been.  Our private records and phone calls are now open to our government and weren’t before, including medical records.  Our right to privacy has been taken away.  And there is censorship with all of the military operations in the Middle East.  Oh I’m not talking about secret missions.  I’m talking about the reporter that is covering the stories over there and they are required to submit their articles to the military commander to have it approved or rejected first before it reaches the newsroom.  No one ever thought our government would censor our news, but it’s happened.  Each news affiliate pretends we are getting the “straight scoop” from them, when in actuality our government is controlling how much and what kind of information is disseminated to the public.

We are into our second president since 9/11 and still no one seems to be in a hurry to do away with the Patriot Act even though Osama Bin Laden is finally dead.

I don’t feel any safer than I did on 9/11 but now I’m not only afraid of terrorist threats, I’m afraid of my own government.

I really hope that all the families that suffered a loss on that tragic day, and those who survived, can find some peace in their soul.

Posted on by Chasing Worms

Who is Your Beauty Muse?

I read that question somewhere recently and it took me two seconds to realize it was my daughter. From the time she was little she would tell me “how pretty” I was and that she wanted to be just like me when she grew up. I used to laugh and told her that one day she would change her mind.

Now my daughter is 31 with two children of her own and she still tells me how beautiful I am. She loves it when people tell her she looks just like me.
My daughter inspires me to take care of myself, not because of how she feels about me, but because I think SHE is the beautiful one, and I love it when people tell me how much I look like HER.

Posted on by Chasing Worms

Behind the New Year – Reflections

Some people seem to have their act together and get things done….boom, boom,boom….finished!  Looking at them, they appear so organized and controlled.  Well, that’s not me!  First, my job is completely disorganized so there is no way I can keep the rest of my life organized!  since my day job is real estate, I’m sure you can understand that when people call and want to go look at homes, you just can’t say no!  Not if you want to make a living at it.  🙂  Yes, well…I keep telling myself I’m going to take control of my time back but it’s very clear I haven’t.  This is my first blog for the new year!  Happy New Year!!   Ha ha ha ha…only four months late!

So life goes….I was sick the first month and still worked.  Helped my fiancee with projects….still worked.  Sold some paintings….still worked.  Started planning for my wedding….and still worked.  Crap!  I’m surprised I get anything done at all!  I’m really surprised I got well!!  And I’m still working!  🙂

Big news….after being engaged now for a year and half, I finally got my butt in gear and started the planning!  Nothing like waiting til the last 8 months! 

I lost a good friend of mine this past week.  A fellow artist.  She was quite a remarkable woman to say the least.  So extremely talented and such a big heart.  She was born without any arms.  It never stopped her from doing anything.  She could do everything any other person could do but she did it with her feet.  That’s how she painted also….with her feet.  She never let anyone tell her she couldn’t do something.  Not even her mother.  Her sister told a story about her when she was ten.  They went to the city pool and her mother never would let her go beyond the shallow end.  To her mother’s shock, her young daughter walked to the deep end of the pool, dove in and using her strong legs, kicked and moved herself like a dolphin to the shallow end of the pool.  She stood up and walked up the steps out of the pool, looked at her mother and said, “don’t ever tell me I can’t do anything again.”  That’s the lady I got to know.  She was persistant, never a quiter and stubborn as hell.  She had a heart the size of the sun.  I’m going to miss her.  She was only 58.

Being sick and laying in bed gives you a lot of time to do nothing but think; sick for 6 weeks and in bed for two.  That was how I rang in the new year.  It’s a terrible way to suddenly take stock of one’s life, but I think most of us go through it at least once when our world gets shaken up.

2010 was the most profound year for me in so many ways.  I lost someone very dear to me and then there were friends who lost someone dear to them, and it seemed like the year was going in the wrong direction.  I tried thinking about all the other things that happened and realized there were also some very good things.

My little sister found her biological father and I got to help her do that.  I’ve always known about him but she had only heard “rumors.”  My little sister is what one would truly term…”a love child.”  She was the product of a love affair.  The relationship they have had since meeting has continued to be a good one.  I know how much I cried when he decided to be part of her life and make up for all the time they had missed.  I was so happy for her getting this chance and I thought of my own father who died when I was just two; I would never have that opportunity.  

Then I reconnected with another little sister of mine.  We had been estranged for years; a bad situation that had been made worse by our mother.  It was a little nerve wracking at first….how do I start, is she different (I hoped so, in a good way), what will I do if things don’t go well….but I never had to worry about any of it.  It was a little slow to start but then things got more comfortable and easy.  It was nice talking to her and it feels good having her back in my life again.

I reconnected with my older brother who had estranged himself from the family a few years ago.  It was sad that I found out he was sick but he has since gotten better and so has our relationship.  It wasn’t like we weren’t close before, just that our lives had taken different paths and then there are things that all of us do that are stupid, bad decisions, in appropriate things said or done, and suddenly a division.  When I saw him in the hospital for the first time in years, we both cried. 

I’ve learned that no matter what happens in a family, there is something so comforting in being able to connect with the siblings you spent most of your life growing up with.  You loved them when you were little, unconditionally, and you still love them deep down inside and want things to be the same way they were when nothing mattered but the next time you played kick the can, or king of the mountain.

There are plenty of skeletons in everyone’s closet.  Most of us, if not all of us have suffered some sort of emotional and/or physical trauma in our lives that change the way we think about things and have an influence on the way we are today.  But how much of the really bad baggage do we want to carry around?  Why can’t we let it go?  I spent years trying to shed my baggage and I had some pretty nasty stuff.  Shedding my baggage meant that I would have to forgive the people that I felt hurt me.  That’s a heck of a lot easier said than done.  It took me a long time to understand, that just because I can forgive someone for past wrongs doesn’t mean I won’t forget, but I had to quit re-remembering if I were to move on with my life. 

I developed a trust issue from my baggage.  Did forgiving someone mean I had to trust them again?  Depending on what type of trauma, I learned…not necessarily.  I am better with trust now but not so quickly to give it away.  It now has to be earned.

I know some of my siblings and even my children have had their own traumas, where trust has been broken and childhoods robbed.  As they have gotten older, like me, they have somehow come to terms with a few of those issues and others they have chosen to bury and not speak of, maybe in hopes that the memory will fade.  But memories have a terrible way of sneaking up on us when we least expect it and I’m forever amazed how the feelings can still remain so fresh many years later.

I got engaged last year (as I mentioned earlier), to the love of my life whom I never thought would ever want to marry again.  Like me, he experienced a bad divorce.  After living together for a few years and suddenly being apart for a couple of months, he knew he didn’t ever want to be without me again.  This year I get to plan a wedding.  I learned there is no greater feeling than knowing someone loves you as much as you do them; knowing that you connect with one other person in this world on so many levels.  It’s freeing, and I no longer feel like I have to hold anything back to protect myself.  Loving someone doesn’t mean you will never have arguments…..but forgetting what those arguments were about at all. 

I watched my daughter become her own woman this past year.  She moved to another state, following her job and her own dreams.  She really came into her own, making new friends, settling in and she learned that she too could do anything she believed she could, and she didn’t need to rely on anyone else.  For the first time in my life, I didn’t worry about her so much.  I’m so happy for her.

My son has transformed into a great dad over the last three years with the birth of his son.  I’m so amazed when I see how he has bonded so closely with his son, something he never experienced with his own father.  My son’s emotional pain growing up has made him a good father.  I am so optimistic about his future.

Every day it seems I have some experience, or maybe even hear a song….something that reminds me of something else and causes me to reflect on life.  Maybe that’s part of growing older or maybe it’s part of another growth period for me.  I’m not sure which but I’m paying attention.

Today, I got an email from another friend and she talked about how we should be patient with people….and as her mother taught her, “if you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say anything at all.” 

I thought about all the times my mother said that to me and I realized, my mother and my friend’s mother, had mother’s who obviously told them that, who told it to their children and I told it to mine also.  That’s how we pass things down through the generations without anyone really noticing.  That’s why bad patterns can also be so difficult to change.  But we can do it.  We are all strong enough to make the changes we want in our life.

I’m happier than I’ve ever been and there are so many great things that have happened this last year….it wasn’t all sad.  I can only imagine that this year will be twice as great.  So I don’t care if I’m behind the New Year.  This is just me for now.  It won’t always be this crazy but then I also have so much to be thankful for.