As a New Year begins, I find myself feeling desperate for a little time out. It's not that I want to get away from anyone in particular, it's not that I want to miss a single beautiful moment with my family, it's that I just. need. time. to. get. my. thoughts. straight.
Even as I write this I am realizing that it's my lack of energy at the end of the night that is giving me the pain I am experiencing during the day.
Explanation: During the day I am working. When I am not working, but spending time with my girls, my mind will jump to the thing that I have to do, the thing I don't want to forget. The thing that I need to accomplish. And then I feel bad and I bring my thoughts back to their beautiful faces and their sweet innocence, but then I can't stop thinking about it. As I try to push it out of my mind, write it down, make a mental note, I find myself experiencing anxiety. My chest tightens. I grow impatient. I become short with people, I breathe heavy. I have to just go handle the thing I need to handle and then I will be ok.
And then...the guilt sets in. Was it that important? Why couldn't it wait? These things are usually a deadline for a proposal due "End of day Friday" and NY is already at 6pm...other times they are something I remembered we needed to add to our Amazon list (Fresh list, Wish List, Shopping List), sometimes it's an organizational thing...but always...it's nothing that exciting. It's just something that has pulled me out of the moment.
I spend my days balancing work deliverables, personal tasks, nursing, playing with Isla, keeping everyone on schedule, keeping our sitter busy when the baby is napping and the toddler wants to be alone, answering work questions, updating accounting...and fantasizing about getting into the zone. I spend the entire day telling myself that I am going to do A, B, and C as soon as they go to bed and then the moment they are out, I am done. Totally pooped, exhausted. And a little depressed, to tell the truth. I review the day, mostly focusing on my failures. Isla didn't do enough learning games, I didn't hold Shiloh as much as I wanted to, I got upset about something related to work or money and let it affect my day...I'm still in the same sweats I was wearing two days ago...and now it's finally time to get into my own zone....time to sort thru family photos, do a little writing, start that blog, make a savings plan, manifest some dreams...and all I want to do is eat and lie on the couch with a good non-violent movie. And I realize another day has passed and my window of accomplishment is gone. And I must surrender.
And then...in the very back of my mind, or sometimes out of my husband's mouth, comes a gentle reminder that today was full of huge accomplishments. Two happy, healthy, LOVE LOVE LOVED little girls are sleeping peacefully because they are well fed and warm. They have a roof over their head, and a village of people who love and care for them, most importantly, their mommy and daddy. And though I can't measure that in my bank account, or on my resume, my heart is full and my spirit is right and I know...I truly know that NOTHING else matters. Because if these comforts were gone...if we didn't have each other...I know.
And I still want career success and a creative outlet. And I still want more savings. And I'd still like to buy shiny things for no other reason than that it's fun. But I will work on the savings every day, and I will work towards success and creativity, sharing my voice...and try to recognize what I've already accomplished. And I'll look at shiny things and enjoy them for what they are. And this year I will OVERCOME. Overcome Resistance, Overcome Fear, Overcome Doubt, Overcome Worry and Dread. I will live in Gratitude, Strength, Hopeful Knowing. I will Connect to the Source. And go forward with LOVE. I will save more and sacrifice more. And it will not cause me any less happiness. Because I have what I need. And they are good.
Saturday, January 04, 2014
Thursday, December 05, 2013
Overcoming Resistance
I have been sitting at this computer for about an hour...closer to two hours. I have checked Facebook, Twitter, updated our family's wish list for Christmas...just went to go email my husband the URLs of those...did some blog reading...thought about shopping...RESISTANCE!
There! I did it again. Added a duvet cover and sheets to our wish list. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!
When the girls go to bed at night and I am here at my computer looking for relaxation...there are so many things that I swear I should be doing. And by SHOULD I mean, the things i hate myself for not doing.
Here they are, most likely in order:
1. Writing. Anything. A blog post for a blog that doesn't exist, a book because I think that's what I'm supposed to be doing, a to-do list because my mind is spinning, new years resolutions because i crave focus and feel bad about the amount of take out I eat, a letter to my daughters because they will never remember this time in their lives and I want them to know how much they are loved and how beautiful they are and how they will never understand how deeply, profoundly, poetically PERFECT they are because by time they started getting LIFETIME INGRAINED MEMORIES, they will be of semi-traumatic feelings usually centered around "I'm not enough" and they will not remember a time when they were 100% unaware of their ego and other people's perceptions of their human bodies and any perceived flaws they invent for themselves because of something maybe someone else said once.
2. Accounting. Because I cannot stop doing accounting. How are we spending our money, how much do we have, how much is coming in, what is our debt, what can we pay, are we in the stock market, how much to retire, where do we go from here, what was that charge at CVS for? I am so afraid of being in trouble financially that I am obsessed with counting our money and making sure we're not overspending (we are), undersaving (we are), or ignoring our balances (we are not).
3. Meditation. Whatever.
4. Sorting Photos and making progress on my photo goals. This takes way too much decision making power from my brain and by night time I am way too tired to do this. But I have slowly...oh....so....slowly...been doing this and it's fantastic to know I've started even though I don't think I will be done for another 10 years. Or "caught up" not 'done'...
5. Listen to Eminem's new album. Ok 2.5 hours later and I am finally doing it. Oh my god...his VOICE.
There! I did it again. Added a duvet cover and sheets to our wish list. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!
When the girls go to bed at night and I am here at my computer looking for relaxation...there are so many things that I swear I should be doing. And by SHOULD I mean, the things i hate myself for not doing.
Here they are, most likely in order:
1. Writing. Anything. A blog post for a blog that doesn't exist, a book because I think that's what I'm supposed to be doing, a to-do list because my mind is spinning, new years resolutions because i crave focus and feel bad about the amount of take out I eat, a letter to my daughters because they will never remember this time in their lives and I want them to know how much they are loved and how beautiful they are and how they will never understand how deeply, profoundly, poetically PERFECT they are because by time they started getting LIFETIME INGRAINED MEMORIES, they will be of semi-traumatic feelings usually centered around "I'm not enough" and they will not remember a time when they were 100% unaware of their ego and other people's perceptions of their human bodies and any perceived flaws they invent for themselves because of something maybe someone else said once.
2. Accounting. Because I cannot stop doing accounting. How are we spending our money, how much do we have, how much is coming in, what is our debt, what can we pay, are we in the stock market, how much to retire, where do we go from here, what was that charge at CVS for? I am so afraid of being in trouble financially that I am obsessed with counting our money and making sure we're not overspending (we are), undersaving (we are), or ignoring our balances (we are not).
3. Meditation. Whatever.
4. Sorting Photos and making progress on my photo goals. This takes way too much decision making power from my brain and by night time I am way too tired to do this. But I have slowly...oh....so....slowly...been doing this and it's fantastic to know I've started even though I don't think I will be done for another 10 years. Or "caught up" not 'done'...
5. Listen to Eminem's new album. Ok 2.5 hours later and I am finally doing it. Oh my god...his VOICE.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Oprah
When my husband turned around in his office chair and asked me "Why am I lookin' at Oprah on the home page of Yahoo?" Something inside me said "because she is ending her show." It resonated as truth. Fact. Knowledge I already had as if she had already called me earlier in the day to break it to me herself so I wouldn't have to hear it on the news. All I could say was "yeah"and then turn back to my own computer and get back to answering emails.
On the surface, I was blowing it off. It's not a big deal. She had eluded to it before that the end would come at some point sooner than later...it was bound to happen. It's fine. But underneath my control and understanding was deep rooted fear and grief. The time was coming. I couldn't bring myself to find out if the article said when. That would be information I surely could not handle, better left unsaid so that I could live for a moment longer thinking we still had at least five years. They were just announcing it now to prepare us: "JUST SO YOU KNOW, Oprah Fans - but in 2015, the Oprah Winfrey Show will cease to be - but we'll have something even more wonderful, that you never could have imagined, still involving Oprah, to take it's place. Rest easy. Never fear." "They are not saying when." My husband says, understanding the severity of the news and trying to find answers for us. "I don't want to know." I say, the first clue that this was more serious for me than I was prepared for. I had plans for the day, and had to get on with them.
The plan was to stop by my studio/old theatre company to help them build a set piece and design the floor paint for their holiday show. I had built and painted it in the years that I had done the show, so I was the perfect person to come and show them how to do it now that I was no longer there. It was a way for me to give back, and to reconnect with my friends and castmates. I would probably be there for two hours, then I'd be off for my day. I found myself instead, once my job was done, staying in the theatre and watching their rehearsal. I laughed at familiar lines that had a new twist with new cast members. I watched like a proud mom as my friend Tamara played the part I had originated with her own hilarious brand of comedy, while a famous (extraordinarily talented) former boy band member played the role of my husband. It was surreal, gratifying, comforting, sweet, and nostalgic. The loss that I felt not being part of the show or the company was rewarded with unconditional love and a sense of family. I spent the entire day in that theatre, comforting myself with the people who knew my deepest truths (without being aware that that was what I needed).
At the end of rehearsal, I had a fast, mediocre sushi lunch with my business partner, and met up with him at my home as we hashed out a new budget proposal for our next job. We are a new company with our finger on the pulse of a new movement who's purpose is to bring people together by creating joy. We finish our work, part ways, and my husband and I settle in to an evening of dinner, Tivo, The Food Network, and some much needed alone time.
First up is Tivo. Our favorite routine, after the essential sports scores are known, is to watch Oprah. Sometimes the show is a little too women-centric for his taste (he doesn't care about the perfect jeans or bra - bras aren't really a necessity in our 32A house), but more times than not, he watches it with the same intent that I do. We are educated and we are inspired. Our hearts open, we make plans to be better people. We promise to eat better, to exercise more, to be happy in the face of uncertainty. We vow to be more present. We decide to get married. We decide it's time to have children. We donate money. We help people in need. We engage in deeper relationships with our neighbors and the staff at our favorite restaurants. We watch movies, read books. (He read ONE book. A New Earth. But that's one more than he planned to!) We throw parties. We take the time. We laugh. We cry. (He sheds a tear every so often, I bawl like a baby every single time).
At the beginning of the show she tells us we will talk about that at the end of the show. I feel as if she has given us a gift. It's going to be ok. We'll talk about it later. For now, let's just be together in this. The time comes for the big announcement and I close my laptop (I was multi-tasking, returning emails during commercial breaks), I sit up straighter, I cross my legs up and place my hands in my lap, I take a deep breath. Here it comes. She launches into her speech and she is speaking directly to me. About our relationship. I feel instantly connected to every devoted Oprah viewer in the world. I can see the pain and sadness in her eyes as she reads the teleprompter. She is holding back her emotions to get thru the speech. At the same time, it is not a resistance. It's peace. This is the right decision for her. This is perfect, divine timing. She tells us how important this relationship has been to her and she begins to cry. I begin to cry. With each breath, with each expression of gratitude, my tears flow faster and stronger. By the time she is done, and her live studio audience is on it's feet, my face is soaked and I am heaving in grief. It is real loss. A death. More accurately, it is a diagnosis that our time together is limited now. I am sad that I will not watch Oprah to get lessons on my teenagers (that I might have one day). I wonder what role she will play in America's life as we move on.
I have to leave the room, walk around, be alone. I try the bathroom and it seems bright and cold and empty. I walk to the bedroom and collapse on the bed. This show has been my church, Oprah my pastor, guiding me towards living the way that God intended me to. It is, after my husband and dogs, the reason I race thru rush hour traffic to get home at the end of a long day. It is as sure and steady as the waves that crash on the shore. She is always there when I need her. And one day, 18 months from now, she will no longer be there in the form that she was. In the form that I knew her. My husband comes into our room to comfort me, knowing that this grief will subside but that this is both a historic and deeply personal moment we are sharing.
He lays down next to me and hugs me as I wail. "What am I going to do?" I am thinking about my motivation and inspiration. I am afraid I won't find a way to push myself to make better choices, to be in service to others. I am afraid I don't have anyone else to inspire me the way she does. A thought passes thru my mind: I may never be on her show! As an actress I fantasized about talking to her about my new film and as a humanitarian-in-training, I dreamed of telling the world about a new foundation I had started. "It sucks." he comforts, "It's like she died."
We are quiet for a moment and I am grateful. "But thank God she didn't." I am instantly at peace. She didn't. Her influence on the world will simply take a new form. We will grow up, we will move on, and she will still be a driving force in this world.
Like my parents who raised me to be who I am, then left me too soon to go on and be the woman I was meant to be, she has given me the foundation to do good. I take inventory of my life. I am happy. I am healthy. I have a beautiful home and family. I am living my dream. I have a business that is in the business of doing good. One that she would find great joy in. I am already living the life she inspired me to live. Her influence is here. I can be an ambassador now. I can do what she did. Not on the scale that she did, of course, but I have the power to change lives. To make a difference. To make someone's life better. To help someone find peace and happiness and inspiration.
She has been an Angel, who has shown us how to be Angels. She may be closing the churches doors, but she has given us wings. She's not done yet. We can take the next year and a half to practice what she has preached, take action, and live in service, to be the Angels we were meant to be. She has shown us how and now it's time for all of us to fly.
I will be forever grateful for the interview she did five years ago (who's subject I cannot remember right now) that caused me to tune in and say "I have to Tivo that Oprah." It was that single episode that turned me into an O disciple. I will be forever grateful. Thank you Oprah, We Love You.
On the surface, I was blowing it off. It's not a big deal. She had eluded to it before that the end would come at some point sooner than later...it was bound to happen. It's fine. But underneath my control and understanding was deep rooted fear and grief. The time was coming. I couldn't bring myself to find out if the article said when. That would be information I surely could not handle, better left unsaid so that I could live for a moment longer thinking we still had at least five years. They were just announcing it now to prepare us: "JUST SO YOU KNOW, Oprah Fans - but in 2015, the Oprah Winfrey Show will cease to be - but we'll have something even more wonderful, that you never could have imagined, still involving Oprah, to take it's place. Rest easy. Never fear." "They are not saying when." My husband says, understanding the severity of the news and trying to find answers for us. "I don't want to know." I say, the first clue that this was more serious for me than I was prepared for. I had plans for the day, and had to get on with them.
The plan was to stop by my studio/old theatre company to help them build a set piece and design the floor paint for their holiday show. I had built and painted it in the years that I had done the show, so I was the perfect person to come and show them how to do it now that I was no longer there. It was a way for me to give back, and to reconnect with my friends and castmates. I would probably be there for two hours, then I'd be off for my day. I found myself instead, once my job was done, staying in the theatre and watching their rehearsal. I laughed at familiar lines that had a new twist with new cast members. I watched like a proud mom as my friend Tamara played the part I had originated with her own hilarious brand of comedy, while a famous (extraordinarily talented) former boy band member played the role of my husband. It was surreal, gratifying, comforting, sweet, and nostalgic. The loss that I felt not being part of the show or the company was rewarded with unconditional love and a sense of family. I spent the entire day in that theatre, comforting myself with the people who knew my deepest truths (without being aware that that was what I needed).
At the end of rehearsal, I had a fast, mediocre sushi lunch with my business partner, and met up with him at my home as we hashed out a new budget proposal for our next job. We are a new company with our finger on the pulse of a new movement who's purpose is to bring people together by creating joy. We finish our work, part ways, and my husband and I settle in to an evening of dinner, Tivo, The Food Network, and some much needed alone time.
First up is Tivo. Our favorite routine, after the essential sports scores are known, is to watch Oprah. Sometimes the show is a little too women-centric for his taste (he doesn't care about the perfect jeans or bra - bras aren't really a necessity in our 32A house), but more times than not, he watches it with the same intent that I do. We are educated and we are inspired. Our hearts open, we make plans to be better people. We promise to eat better, to exercise more, to be happy in the face of uncertainty. We vow to be more present. We decide to get married. We decide it's time to have children. We donate money. We help people in need. We engage in deeper relationships with our neighbors and the staff at our favorite restaurants. We watch movies, read books. (He read ONE book. A New Earth. But that's one more than he planned to!) We throw parties. We take the time. We laugh. We cry. (He sheds a tear every so often, I bawl like a baby every single time).
At the beginning of the show she tells us we will talk about that at the end of the show. I feel as if she has given us a gift. It's going to be ok. We'll talk about it later. For now, let's just be together in this. The time comes for the big announcement and I close my laptop (I was multi-tasking, returning emails during commercial breaks), I sit up straighter, I cross my legs up and place my hands in my lap, I take a deep breath. Here it comes. She launches into her speech and she is speaking directly to me. About our relationship. I feel instantly connected to every devoted Oprah viewer in the world. I can see the pain and sadness in her eyes as she reads the teleprompter. She is holding back her emotions to get thru the speech. At the same time, it is not a resistance. It's peace. This is the right decision for her. This is perfect, divine timing. She tells us how important this relationship has been to her and she begins to cry. I begin to cry. With each breath, with each expression of gratitude, my tears flow faster and stronger. By the time she is done, and her live studio audience is on it's feet, my face is soaked and I am heaving in grief. It is real loss. A death. More accurately, it is a diagnosis that our time together is limited now. I am sad that I will not watch Oprah to get lessons on my teenagers (that I might have one day). I wonder what role she will play in America's life as we move on.
I have to leave the room, walk around, be alone. I try the bathroom and it seems bright and cold and empty. I walk to the bedroom and collapse on the bed. This show has been my church, Oprah my pastor, guiding me towards living the way that God intended me to. It is, after my husband and dogs, the reason I race thru rush hour traffic to get home at the end of a long day. It is as sure and steady as the waves that crash on the shore. She is always there when I need her. And one day, 18 months from now, she will no longer be there in the form that she was. In the form that I knew her. My husband comes into our room to comfort me, knowing that this grief will subside but that this is both a historic and deeply personal moment we are sharing.
He lays down next to me and hugs me as I wail. "What am I going to do?" I am thinking about my motivation and inspiration. I am afraid I won't find a way to push myself to make better choices, to be in service to others. I am afraid I don't have anyone else to inspire me the way she does. A thought passes thru my mind: I may never be on her show! As an actress I fantasized about talking to her about my new film and as a humanitarian-in-training, I dreamed of telling the world about a new foundation I had started. "It sucks." he comforts, "It's like she died."
We are quiet for a moment and I am grateful. "But thank God she didn't." I am instantly at peace. She didn't. Her influence on the world will simply take a new form. We will grow up, we will move on, and she will still be a driving force in this world.
Like my parents who raised me to be who I am, then left me too soon to go on and be the woman I was meant to be, she has given me the foundation to do good. I take inventory of my life. I am happy. I am healthy. I have a beautiful home and family. I am living my dream. I have a business that is in the business of doing good. One that she would find great joy in. I am already living the life she inspired me to live. Her influence is here. I can be an ambassador now. I can do what she did. Not on the scale that she did, of course, but I have the power to change lives. To make a difference. To make someone's life better. To help someone find peace and happiness and inspiration.
She has been an Angel, who has shown us how to be Angels. She may be closing the churches doors, but she has given us wings. She's not done yet. We can take the next year and a half to practice what she has preached, take action, and live in service, to be the Angels we were meant to be. She has shown us how and now it's time for all of us to fly.
I will be forever grateful for the interview she did five years ago (who's subject I cannot remember right now) that caused me to tune in and say "I have to Tivo that Oprah." It was that single episode that turned me into an O disciple. I will be forever grateful. Thank you Oprah, We Love You.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
The first ten years
I realized tonight that for the past ten years I have ignored the part of myself that is grieving. I have put it away and only brought it up in facts and jokes. I have placed it so far down inside of me that it rises to the surface as anger and anxiety and judgement and fighting and exasperation and lack of faith, ambition, drive, desire...fear fear fear and...um...fear. This upcoming week marks the ten year anniversary of my father's death and I have never once spent a day not thinking about them (my mom passed away in 2003), remembering them, talking to them, apologizing to them, questioning them, worrying about them. Not who and what they are now, but what they were...and will I be? Breathing in...Van Morrison sings Into the Mystic on my itunes...48 hours until The Dead...and this brings me back...this is why this one is so hard...I remember being a young adult, in college, full of hope and dreams and really bullshit relationships and recreational drugs and ridiculous friends that I will always love...and it all comes rushing back. The idea that we are free and it will all work out...That none of this matters...
I looked over Jordan and what did I see? Comin' for to carry me home...A band of angels comin after me...comin for to carry me home...
I am preparing for this show differently than I did back then. There is no arrangement to hope and pray for a ticket, hope and pray for a tab, hope and pray that we are swept away...far far away...
Why did we want to escape so badly? What really was the problem? Really? I mean here we are...and it all worked out didn't it? I think it's the illusions that we should be mad at, not the disappointments...we were raised to be hidden from financial woes and responsbilities. My parents never wanted us to know that we didn't have any money to do the things that made us happy. It was in reason of course. We weren't allowed to do a LOT of things and we especially weren't allowed to wear designer labels...which pretty much meant MALL brands...not the REAL designer stuff...we didn't even know about that stuff...We knew not to have an ATM card...and credit cards were an absolute no-no...Dad would literally go broke providing for us...I wasn't allowed to get a job because I was supposed to concentrate on my studies...which I did. I felt so incredibly grateful to be at that school....I made sure that the promise my guidance counselor made to WMU was kept. I was scared to death of losing. And that's what kept me going. Keeping my father proud...That and my insane tolerance of drugs and alcohol that kept me both non-addicted and able to get what I needed done.
Loss of a parent. Loss of my father. Loss of my mother. This is a loss that gets greater with age, more intense with the passing of time, darker as the night wears on, masked and distorted and faded and stretched when the sun is up...I grew up with nothing but love and admiration for my father. No matter how he destroyed himself and scared and pushed us away, I always rebounded like a puppy who had just peed on the carpet. I know I was bad, but I love you! I know I was wrong, but let me show you I am lovable. Look. Look how lovable I am! Doesn't that want to make you stop escaping? Doesn't that make you want to be here? Let's talk, let's walk. Why can't I come to the store with you? Because you were drunk. I didn't know. Have you been sitting in the car this whole time? I didn't know. You were dying. I didn't know.
I didn't know. Any better.
And now, some days are spent in silent prayer for time to speed up. For this to be over. This. This moment. This meal. This conversation. This day. This week. This year. This decision. This pursuit. Not life. Not the end of life. The end of whatever is there putting a frame around it. Hanging it up. Putting it in the closet. End this moment and let's get on to the next one...Ok. still here. still in pain. still happening. still sucks. still remember. ok. next one. let's go. what's next? what else? tell me what else there is. cuz this isn't enough.
he was enough. you were enough i said. and you didn't know it....and now i don't either. i don't even know what that means. i blame your father. what did he know about empowering his children to believe that they were capable of anything? that they were amazing people and had done a good job? he didn't know...
i would have liked to have been there the moment my parents met. the moment. right now, that moment i would want to linger forever...that's backwards right? that i want the past moments to come back and linger and the present moments to get in the past and the future moments to be cure-alls for all that's left? ewww......
what is left? what is there? there's so much beauty but there's sometimes even more fear. and fear sucks and it stinks...it keeps me from understanding things. it keeps me from...what is the button? that thing that makes me pull back? i dont know anymore...but i think it's: what if i finally get going and i get blind-sided again? what if i am speeding down the hill, going just a little too fast, and i get clocked in the head and everything cracks and burns and scares me and i have to pick myself back up again and put on a face of bravery and calm? what then? and it doesn't just happen in snowboarding...
well...what happened then was that i got up. i just got up. and i was fine. and i did it all over again. a little more careful...but i did it. and the process of letting go started all over again. the inability to really let go because I'LL FALL AND IT WILL HURT AND NO ONE ELSE WILL BE THERE TO HOLD ME.
and if that's the worst it can get...well...i get it. i know.
i know.
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