This was not the life I dreamt for you. As I look down on your faces, untouched by the burden of day to day life I see a world in which I pictured everything blissfully different. A house of our own, laughter every day, a yard for you to run around. I imagined strong arms that swept you up after a long day and wrestled with you as the day grew to night. Deep rumbling words filling your imagination as it ran wild into dreamland. I saw long adventures into the woods, onto the sands, with days spent filled with only what the minds eye could think up, never for a second worrying what would stop you. I pictured rooms filled with giggles, tiny hands making fingerprints on the walls and you never having to be alone. I never for a second thought of what tomorrow would bring. I never imagined life like this.
I didn’t realize it would ever be just us. The three musketeers bound by love and solidarity. I didn’t think it would be just me wiping the tears away or encouraging the smiles. I didn’t know I would be the one that filled all the roles in your young lives. I want to give you the world, all of it, wrapped up in a bow. To fill your lives with all the wonder and love your hearts could ever ask for, ever need. Never let you see how hard it is. But it is hard. I never planned for the Autism, the medication, the breakdowns. The working mom. The sibling rilvary. The alternate weekend split. I never wanted you to see me tired, anxious or scared. To feel the stress of how life can get to you sometimes. The realness of it all.
In all of this though, I look at your faces and realize I am doing something right. In the spaces in between. In the quiet moments. In the love that shines through. In the bond we have. We really do have it all. You astound me everyday with you intelligence, your kindness and your love. We may not have it all but we have enough. I may not be able to give you everything but you love me just as I am and that is the greatest gift of all. I know a love like no other. And it is the love I have for you. And that love is beyond all measure.
I wrote my heart out of Friday night. Ink splattered across my fingertips as words flew across the page in angry slahes. Some bitter, some resentful, some sad. In the end, I was empty. I felt like I had finally gotten everything that had been filling me up for so long, out of my soul. Every nlock, every jam, every bit of feeling toward what had happened came out. It only took 11,00 words. I couldn’t tell you what they said. I know im my heart that my voice is raw. Part of me is numb and the other part empty.
And now I am at the precipice of a new beginning. A jumping off point, that I thought I had found before. I realize that I had never fully embraced all that had happened and what was to be. And that it had left mt stuck somewhere that I couldn’t move from. Frozen in time, niether for the good nor the bad. Replaying what had been and to scared of what will be. That is over now.
I am ready to emrace what is. The right now. Today I face the world free from the ties that bind. Knowing in myself that I could not change the past. That I have learned from it. And in that I have griwn. I embrace who I’ve become, where I am going. I am thankful for what I have and where I’ve been. I know my journey isn’t over and it will never lead me back to what has already been. I am a person of worth, of substance, of vitality. I am full of love for those who surround my life with goodness. I will do all that I can to show the world all that I have to give. In mind, body and spirit. I am enough.
My mind races. It’s almost like I want to break out from behind these walls I’m in and yell “I’m here, I’m still here! Everything’s going to be ok!” But is It? Truly? I reach for the light, the fabled light at the end of this darkened tunnel. But I question if the tunnel was really ever that dark to begin with.
So much stuff has happened as of late. There has been so many things set in motion that I feel like I can’t keep up. And as much as I try to for appearances sake, it is when I’m alone that I want to curl up and cry. But I don’t. Is it fear? Is it the fact that I’m not really sad? The fact that I have more under control than I realize? Or the fact that I am actually doing everything in my power to make it work.
But I don’t feel like I am. I feel like I can do so much more. Be do much more. I think to the past. To what things could have been different and then I know that I can’t let that keep holding me back from what’s going on right now. But something still feels off. Unrealistic expectations for a future is always dreamed of.
A marriage, more kids, a house with a back yard. Things I can’t only wish once upon a December. But reality, reality crashes down on me and I have to radically accept what I have tight now. Wonderful smart amazing kids, food, a house and a chance to a have a future. That has to be enough.
Then, why the panic. Why the racing thoughts. Why the not sleeping. Could there be something I’m forgetting or leaving out.
My chance to dream isn’t over yet. But I’ve forgotten to pick up my pen and write those dreams down. For too long my words have gone unspoken and I yearn for an output, a way to grab onto something bigger, something more.
This too will pass, I will survive, I will thrive. I will let must feel as much as I can and not judge it because it’s ok to just feel. I will not continue onto that extra dose of caffeine that has become to much. And I will keep believing in something more. Because I will never give up on my own varietals. Our truest hearts desire is only but a wish away. I believe that, always.
So I signed up for this website www.tut.com and on it I found many interesting, wonderful and inspirational things. On it there’s this program to Love Your Life in 30 Days. There’s a FB group and notebook you can get to help you in your journey. I thought, why the hell not, what else have I got to lose? I have come so far from where I was a year ago, let’s go even further.
I signed up for the group and introduced myself, told my story and posted my before and after pics. Over 600 likes and 220 comments later and I was blown away by the kinds, wisdom and support of strangers willing to take a chance on a girl whose words they just read on a screen. In lieu of the notebook I decided to blog my journey over the next 30 and share what I learn with you. If you feel so inclined, join me on this adventure, tell me how you’re doing, fill me in. I wish you luck, love and sparkles going into the next 30 Days 💖
DAY 1: TODAY write down at least 5 general areas of your life that you want to create change in and develop over the next year.
Keeping your goals for change general is powerful because it gives the Universe power to orchestrate the details and figure out “how” your goals can manifest in the best way possible. On Day 3 you will have the chance to “dress up” these generalities with the juicy details that excite you!
Here are some examples of general areas for change:
My goals for change in the next year are as follows –
There are goals within each of these goals that I think fit together. Some of these goals as I obtain them will, I believe, work together. But those are my top 5 goals for this upcoming year.
Let’s see what tomorrow brings ☺
Can you see me? Really see what’s behind my eyes? The words that tumble from my mind but that my lips can’t form.What do you see what you look at me?
The chalk that stained the concrete with pictures is nothing more than dust by now and the laughter has all but faded. The sheet that covers the bikes is now faded and torn and the furniture has a fine coat of dust or pollen on it from remaining unused this past season. A mere memory of what this place used to be, the joy that it used to hold. As my eyes scan the objects that remain on the stone patio a breath escapes my lips and I close my eyes remembering the day I saw it for the first time.
The sun was shining and the day was hot, the laughter of my daughter was music in the air as she moved from room to room inside the empty apartment. I had only been there ten minutes and already I knew it was going to be my home. As I stood beneath the awning of the low stone wall of the patio I envisioned the glass table where we could sit while we ate outside. I saw the kids drawing on the cement in chalk and blowing bubbles out on the grass. I pictured a small grill that we could use on days like the one we were having, when we would have people over to show them how happy we were. I imagined warm nights where we would sit outside and talk and laugh for hours just enjoying the air, the stars and each others company. Everything about this place screamed home but this patio, this patio screamed a future that gave me a smile I could not wipe away.
As I run my fingers over the glass table I remember the nights where conversation turned into arguments. I feel the smiles turn into tears and wince as I can almost feel their wetness hit the surface of the table as vividly as if it was happening right now. I force my eyes open so the sound of silence takes over the sound of anger and the wind rushes in to usher away the pain that happened so very long ago. My eyes catch something blue on the ground and I laugh, a piece of chalk yet to be ground into dust as the rest has been long since used up and I bend to write the kids names on the ground. As I admire my handiwork I smile and remember how many chalky footsteps covered the carpet after hours of drawings took place right here and thousands of memories were made. I let those memories seep in to replace the ones that try to hard to drag me down.
Taking a seat in a chair that has long since felt a warm body I idly draw in the dust on the table. Hope, dreams, forever…words I trace into the residue on the table. Words I believe in for me, for them and those words give me a strength that I know I have inside. I hear laughter in the house, this time I realize though that my house is already full. Full of love and warmth, the house which is already mine and I don’t have to reach out to grab that dream because I already have it. So what if the dream is different than when I held this moment for the first time. The laughter is still there, the opportunity to make memories worth smiling upon is on me now. I seize the moment to grab a rag and dust off the table. The words I drew are gone but the sentiment is till there. The sentiment to dream a new, the hope always, to love forever. The laughter in my house is sweet music to my ears and I look around at the patio with a glimmer of expectation in my heart. There will be laughter again, sweet memories to dwell on, chalk filled days and wish filled nights. I can feel it in my soul.
In a vast and changing world there are days when the tides just pull you along. Your arms flail desperate to keep your head above water and not is all smooth sailing. On those days, as your gasping for air, you wonder if you will ever see the light again. If by some miracle you will ever come out on top.
They suddenly a ping. A low noise goes off like a beacon in dark and you are saved. The sun comes crashing through the darkest night and hits your face. The pale becomes rosy, the shadowed becomes sparkling, the number becomes warm. All is be washed in smiles because of a single kindness. A single thought.
Uneglected connection that you have been waiting on. Wacting for. Waiting by. DIsn’t even know you were searching. ALloyd these questions arise. Will it? Won’t it? Dare I? But you shove them away for the kindness of a smile. Your batter away the negativity especially surrounding where you are, whowever you are….ust for that feelinh. that feeling when you got. Whence you snuck iinto the routine. Whence you realized, that for the first time. In a long time. Your were the reason, for someone’s smile
The leaves are in the middle of their change. Stuck between green and red. Some orange and amber. Other the brightest yellow the eyes can see. The wind is starting to crisp and the air…the air is tumbling across our senses with the smells of love. The smells of spices and Woodstock. Of warmth and cider. Of nights yearning to be copied up in our hoodies just aching to be scared around fires full of laughter. It’s the time of the year that I look forward to. The time of the year I feel free. The time of the year my smiles are big and my arms open wide to accept the hugs of the giggles of Littles after a full day of pumpkin picking and candied apples…
But I’m stick. Up swept by emotion I can quite grasp, and as much as I want to smile I want to scream. As much as I want out I want this season to pass. As many things as I want to do the memories all tie to those two perfect years that I made them with you. And I can erase and erase and smile through and still they settle into the minds of the children. And there’s nothing I can do. You’ve resurfaced. There’s been questions of which I have no answers. Only to talk about you in the past. As if you’ve died and been buried like those we’ve had to say goodbye to. And that’s sad, that you’ve become a corpse. Just another memory. When you could have stayed so much more to them. To all of us. And you chose instead to commit and act so heinous it only equates to death.
So we bury you, a few times a week. For you are not that far under the ground. We lay flowers at your site and move on ahain. Rebuilding out lives on top of what you left of us. I am determined to do these things without you. Though it tears at my heartstrings so. The colors are not as vibrant and the wind not so sweet. But I will still love this time I have. This is my season. These are my days. I will fight forward and one day I will be free…from the middle of a memory
I’m not like you, I never claimed to be. But you have no right to sit there and make assumptions about who I am because I don’t fit into the cookie cutter mold you have decided that life should be. I am rough around the edges. I say exactly what I mean. I can come off as abrasive and even a little mean, but at least I am always honest. My clothes are not name brand but I always look good wearing them. My face seems betrays my age, so I may look younger than you ever imagined and maybe even more than you feel. I had my kids at an early age, we are close and the tell me everything. I have my own personal sense of style, nothing you say or do is going to take that away from me. I have always marched to the beat of my own drum, the ink on my skin and the color in my hair does not make me less mature than you. I laugh when I find things funny, I don’t laugh when things you find amusing hurt other people. I do not tolerate ignorance, hatred of bullying and I will raise my voice up against them. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I have fought for everything that I have and I have done a fucking good job of making a life for myself. I curse like a sailor when it’s appropriate but I know when to keep my mouth shut. I will fight to the bitter end for something I believe in but no I won’t reprimand my child if they haven’t done something wrong in my eyes. I teach tolerance not hate. I teach acceptance not bigotry. I teach love not war. I don’t believe that there is a difference between you and me just because we come from different walks of life, I teach my children that all people are the same and I will not have you sully their innocence because you have a problem with me. My children as smart and funny, well fed and clean, well mannered and innocent…Just because you do not appreciate who I am as a human, neighbor, mother or any of the labels you have affixed me with you will NOT treat my child like a pariah. Mark my words darlin, karma is a bitch and I won’t be around when it comes back to bite you in your less that well-mannered ass. I am not like you and I will never be. And that is quite alright because I am perfectly happy LOVING me.
I cleaned out the happy jar, to save myself the pain of doing it at the end of year. My children should not think about what we’ve lost. I found beautiful words.
Lovely memories to smile upon
But as I smiled the tears began to tall. Because such wonderful words were marred as I remembered…
That a little over 6 weeks later. The dreams turned to nightmares.
I began to cry harder as I wondered what was real and what was fake. Did those words express what was really felt.
I realized I believed in the words. In the life we once had. And I cried for the confusion. The loss of something real. Something beautiful. Something that will never be repaired.
A love that was so pure. An end that was never written. In the stars. A tragic faerietale.