With my hands tied behind my back

It's after the party. The ballroom is littered and empty. I am naked. My hands are tied behind my back. There is no music. The band is long gone. Yet, still I dance. I dance with a smile.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Unconditional Love of God

I strive to know what unconditional love is.
I know first hand what conditional "love" is.
I try very hard to see love and beauty in everything.
I try very hard not to criticize or judge.
But I know there is always a degree that I do.

I hear and see things happen around me everyday,
that for some reason just don't seem right.
Often times these things are indirectly related to me,
but none the less they hurt and anger me.
I take them to heart and weep about their origin.

It is true that I struggle with religion.
I do not, however, struggle with my faith in God.
I struggle with congregations and ideas of man.
I struggle with conformity.
I hardly ever see unconditional love in the masses.
And that is why I segregate myself from religion.

Yesterday, I heard something that crushed my soul.
It came out of the mouth of someone I cherish deeply.
It was a simple statement of a religious rule,
believed to be true to this person
and I'm sure believed to be true by the masses.
It didn't relate to me directly,
but indirectly it still hurt me.
Everybody thinks they hold the answers.
Everybody thinks that their rules are THE rules.
But there was no love in that statement only rejection.
My God loves unconditionally, completely and without complexities or pride.
There is never rejection.

I found a few passages today that spoke to me relating to the statement said.
An excerpt called "The Department of Interior" by Linda Hogan.

Such ridicule is the same kind of thinking that allowed for genocide.A thinking that has no imagination, no place for respect, empathy, or compassion,no love.

We struggle with the brokenness of our bodies and hearts,with hungers never fulfilled,with self destruction in the forms of suicide, alcoholism, and child abuse that is a hatred of what comes from the body.


It is our task, and the work of others, to return to and hold dear the beautiful, flawed, embodied spirit alive in its imperfect matter.

We are in need of an integrity of being that recognizes this disregarded inner world.I mean integrity in the true sense of this world, the sense that addresses a human wholenessand completeness, and entirety of living, with body,land and the human self in relationship with all the rest,and with a love that remembers itself.

If I could've spoke at that moment instead of resenting, this entry is what I wish I would have said.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Strawberries and Pancakes

It's time to talk about SLJ. I have refrained from "spilling" out of the courtesy of others. Nobody likes the "OMG, I'm going to puke now, I'm in love junk."But alas, I can't hold back any longer. I must spill. I will not apologize either. It's a beautiful thing.

SLJ and I met on an internet dating site.I had just got back from my Casino trip and had decided on a whim to post my profile on a site.That's some scary stuff. It's like jumping into a pool of sharks w/ laser beams."Here I come and eat me!"Interestingly enough, while I was at the Casino, I had the urge and inspiration to bow my head and say a prayer that God would send me my perfect match. I honestly had faith that moment that my prayer would be answered in due time.

SLJ was convinced to join the dating site by his father and his cousin. I was one of his "100% matches" that the service suggested.I was the only one he sent a little message to. I replied.

We emailed back and forth.

Chatted online.

Set up our first date.
We met for dinner after work on a Thursday night.We arrived in the parking lot at the same time.We exited our vehicles at the same time.His first thought was that he "didn't have a chance."My first thought was "He's very nice looking."

He didn't kiss me goodnight. He wanted to, but says I was too "scary" and couldn't get the nerve to do so.And at that moment I knew he was different.

We set up our second "date" a couple of days later.We took my boys out to eat and to a hockey game.He reached over and held my hand.Sparks flew, my body did some kind of convulsion.Just from holding hands.That was a new experience.

We set up our third date. Valentines day.Dinner and a movie.He had sent a bouquet of flowers to my office.The first time I ever had flowers sent to work.We had our first kiss that evening. I liked/like kissing SLJ.Very much.

A few days after that, I stayed over at his house.His home was so comfortable.I just "dropped in" like I belonged there.

I started staying over at his house on the weekends I didn't have my kids.

His family visited to meet "the new girl."

We shopped.
We went out to eat.
We talked a lot.
We hung out.
We craved each others time and comfort.
We still do.

He celebrated my 29th birthday with me. Brought me another bouquet. A dozen red roses.He met some of my closest friends for the first time.He made me cry when he said that he felt like he had already known Layli.Not only was I accepted, but so were the people I loved.SLJ even danced with me.At a gay club.He didn't have one complaint.He just wanted to be where I was.

We had several late night talks during all of this time.I had decided that I would not be the person to say "I love you" first.I just wasn't going to stick my neck out like that.And I didn't have to.All of a sudden one night on the phone SLJ just said it.And I was so relieved.And so filled with joy.Everything was strawberries and pancakes.

SLJ remembers things that I say.He's done little things like switch his laundry detergent to Free/Clear because I have sensitive skin. He bought 3 lilac trees to plant because I said lilacs were my favorite.He understands the need for cookie dough and Hershey bars.He sends me poetry and love songs thru email.He leaves me notes on the table in the morning.And sends me text messages throughout the day.I catch him looking at me. Admiring me. I've never seen that look before.He thinks I'm smart and beautiful.He tells me not to go into the room until he gets rid of the spider.He starts my car on cold mornings.He walks beside me, not ahead of me.He reads my face and knows what my looks mean.He laughs with me all of the time.He's the biggest supporter of my village.Those are just things that make me feel loved.

I have a whole list of the things I love about him.He is the kindest man I have ever met.He has the best laugh and I treasure his perfect smile.He's humble.He's a good father who isn't afraid to show affection to his son.He loves himself and is a happy man.He's smart. He's funny. He's gracious.Yet strong and sexy and totally manly.He's not afraid to talk deeply and not afraid to listen.I've never heard him judge or criticize another person.I'm smiling just sitting here cataloging all of his perfection.He is everything I prayed for in that Casino hotel room.There is not one thing I dislike or doubt.

SLJ and I have been together for such a long time. Maybe not physically, but our hearts have been together for a long time.When I look deep into his eyes, I see a little glimpse of myself in there.I see past, present and future.I see unconditional love that flows naturally.I see the essence of all that is right and good.

That's my SLJ.

That's the beginning of our story.

Strawberries and pancakes.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

365

"The Year of Patience."
It's a Baha'i thing.
Let me explain it a little bit (I am not Bahai, so please forgive any mistakes. This info comes to me second hand from Baha'i friends.)
"The Year of Patience" is basically about not pursuing any new relationships until you've refleced on the marriage, tried to work things out, gained control of self, centered your life around God and faith, learned about self, grieved the relationship if it is ending and have learned the value of self.
Here is an excerpt that I found online about it:
Divorce is strongly condemned in the Bahá’í Teachings. If, 211 however, antipathy or resentment develop between the marriage partners, divorce is permissible after the lapse of one full year. During this year of patience, the husband is obliged to provide for the financial support of his wife and children, and the couple is urged to strive to reconcile their differences. Shoghi Effendi affirms that both the husband and wife “have equal right to ask for divorce” whenever either partner “feels it absolutely essential to do so”.

This, I guess, takes a year.
365 days.
I totally understand the motivation behind such a thing as "The Year of Patience."
It's a "process."
It's also a general rule and guideline for the masses created by, well, man.
Just like any other religious "rule".

But alas I will reflect once more:
I was married to a mysogynist.
When it came down to it, my looks mattered more than who I was inside.
I was not in an unconditional love based marriage.
I reflected and tried my hardest to work things out for 6 months before I left the marriage.
It took us another month to make the final decision of divorce.
We had several discussions with each other in that month on what we wanted and what we felt before we finally decided to end the marriage.
We both jumped into other relationships. I re-formed a friendship (w/ benefits) with someone I have known for 10+ years.
That friendship was not what I thought it was and got ugly quickly.
I grieved that loss of friendship at the same time I was greiving my marriage.
Instead of dwelling on the ugly part, I identified with what I had gained.
I gained empowerment and presentation.
I learned how to give baggage back.
I learned that I am a great mother.
I learned that not everyone is trustworthy.
I learned to trust my instincts, because they are 99.9% right 99.9% of the time.
I learned how to say No and voice my opinion.
I learned all of this from that one relationship.

I had a few (and by a few, I mean 3) dates here and there.
From those dates I gained more knowledge.
I learned not to settle.
I learned how to talk honestly and openly with a man.
I learned that I am most definitely not a prude.
I learned how to identify and cut my losses without feeling rejection or self doubt.
I learned all of that from 3 dates.

I had one person tell me that I need to figure out what I want.
She said that I need to know what it is I like to do on a Saturday morning.
She said I needed to know what color I wanted to paint my bedroom.
Simple things like that, I needed to know before I could move on.
At that moment, I already knew the simple things...
I like to lounge in my PJ's on a Saturday morning, drink my coffee and sit on the porch.
And brown. I want to paint my kitchen brown.
I want purple and red in bathroom.
I want to hang my batik on the wall.
I don't care for steak.
I like Wendys cheeseburgers.
I can do without Ben & Jerrys.
I like chocolate chip cookie dough.
I like thinly sliced cucumbers on my sandwiches.
Point is, I know exactly who I am and I know exactly what I like.
I've already crawled out of that abyss.
Check "know self" off the list.
Not an issue.

I took a little weekend trip to the Casino by myself. Just me and the open road. No direction. Just confidence and peace of mind.I learned that I could indeed be alone and have fun.

The Year of Patience...365 days to process.
It's been 376+ days since my heart was torn to shreds.
It's been 270+ days since I left my marriage.
It's been 120+ days since I've finished greiving the loss.
But who's counting?

I strived to reconcile. 6 months and lots of tears.
I have greived the relationship. Over it. I'm not bitter anymore. I don't even remember him anymore.
I have reflected on the relationship and identified my own faults. And I've accepted those faults.
I have learned about self and the value of self. I am exactly who I want to be.
I am beautiful because I am beautiful.
I have mastered the art of patience. It's been a long 9 months keeping an eye out for the light at the end of the tunnel.
I know how to stand my ground.
I have made more friends than I've ever had in my life.
I do not regret a thing.
I have accepted everything.
I know my boundaries and I will tell you if you cross it.

The only "issue" I deal with now is a mothers guilt. That's a heavy burden to carry. That's the burden we carry the instant we give birth until forever.

I have met a man who is everything I could ever want in a person. I adore him. I have no doubts about him. Not one.I have decided to move in with him and continue my path with him right beside me.

I have had my 365 days of patience and then some.
I am at peace and I am living my life fully.
I'm not just okay...I am great.

*Point is...It's MY process and MY timeline and MY experience. When I ask for you to listen, just listen. I didn't ask for advise and I didn't ask for opinions. I just asked you to listen.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

My toes are green

Parent teacher conferences went well. The little boogers are excelling. Even brought some grades up from last semester. Alls well in that area. I think I was just overly concerned and feeling a wee bit guilty.

I met with the STBX on Friday. He tried to bulldoze me. Tried for about a half hour. Then I looked him in the eyes and told him exactly how things were going to happen. Exactly what to expect from me. I showed no fear. My lip didn't quiver. My hands didn't shake. I was cool as a cucumber. He could make it easy or difficult. The choice was his. He chose to make things easy. I get what I want. I should have papers to sign in a couple of weeks.

It was a rough week. With the health issues... and the P/T conferences... and the meeting w/ the STBX...and I had some work related chaos thrown in for good measure. I survived it. And my weekend has rewarded me.

I got my garden tools out of storage. Lawn mower, tiller, shovels, weed eater etc...
I mowed SLJ's lawn today. My toes are green now. I heart to mow the lawn. I'm weird like that.
I mowed while he prepped for the new landscaping project.
I finished the lawn. Took a quick spin on the 4-wheeler. Walked up to SLJ to admire his work and was told...
"I'm going to fill this whole area w/ dirt and you can plant whatever you like, angel."

Did you hear that? I get to plant whatever I like.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Still Waters

This is my plate. This is everything on my plate. Here have some desert. I can spare. I'm full up.
I am a person that can handle loads of stress. Pile it on. I have strong shoulders, I can handle. I'm not saying I don't break down. I do. But I get up and come out fighting.
I had a small breakdown on Monday. I got some results back from the doctor that were just a little upsetting. I'm okay. I'm not dying (well, we're all dying) but these results are not so serious. I have to go back in tomorrow for further testing. It's not that big of a deal, just more than I needed right now. It's amazing how we can instantly turn into that scared little kid we once were. So while I was at it, I made another appt. with my dermatologist to check out some skin things. Might as well stress when I'm already stressed. Yanno. Let's just evalutate my overall health while we're at it and then move on.

I spent my Monday evening consoling my youngest son. He had some sort of breakdown when I told him to get started on his homework that evening. BOOM! Instant breakdown. I recognized it as my little guy needing reassurance and some solid attention. So I spent the entire evening with him in his bedroom talking about anything and everything. Mostly horses and muskrats. Okay. But finally by 9pm, he snapped out of it and his world was right again. He didn't get any homework done and I didn't get anything done that I had planned to do. My happy little guy is back and that's all that matters.

Tonight is parent teacher conferences. That same little guy is struggling in second grade. His grades are great. He just lacks motivation. Not to mention that they have more homework in the second grade than I had in college. He has homework every night. Not just things that don't get done in class either...actual work to be done at home. It makes me angry when all these kids really need is a good climb in a tree or to feel the wind in their hair as they zip down the drive on their bikes. But NO. They must sit inside and work their brain just a wee bit more while their parents are constantly reminding them to focus. And while their fifth grade brother (who NEVER has homework) is outside having fun.It's really unjust and I'm just in the right mood to say a little something about it tonight in P/T conferences. Only 4 1/2 more weeks of school.
Being a parent is the hardest thing ever. There is no room for failure there. There is no self.

Which brings me to the fact that I don't have a clue as to where I'm moving and who will be babysitting my kids this summer. 3 weeks ago I gave the STBX an ultimatum. I need a plan of action. I need to create a home for my boys. I need this divorce done, so I can move on. I need him to get his ass in gear. I called him up, gave him two choices. We're meeting for an early lunch on Friday to discuss and agree. Why we have to actually meet I haven't a clue. I personally prefer to see him as less as possible. I recognize what's happening. Meeting face to face is his chance to control the situation and intimidate. He's a funny boy. I'm a smart woman. I'm in control at all times. He doesn't know my hands are untied and that I'm dancing freely.

Every Tuesday night I meet w/ my business partner and work on our venture. Our goal is to have the first draft of our plan done by the end of April (which is next week). I try not to think of everything that still needs done. I just try to think of the constant progress we make. When I set out to go somewhere, I always make it. I may drive faster or slower than the posted speed. I may turn down a country road instead of taking the interstate. I may stop for coffee or to use the restroom. I may change my destination and follow the casino sign...but I always find my way. 63B.

SLJ is starting a dirt/plant project. I get to help. I get to play in the dirt. You have no idea how exciting that is for me. I heart dirt. At my SLJ's house, everything goes. If I want to take a quick nap I can. If I want to shower more than once a day, I can. If I want M&M's, I can. If I want pizza, I can. If I want to take a quick spin on the 4-wheeler, I can. If I want to go shopping, I can. If I'm done shopping and just really want to go home, I can. If I want to watch movies in my PJ's, I can. He has created this wonderful space for me. A refuge. A sanctuary that I've been missing. And when I really need a hug or really need to be told I'm beautiful, I don't even have to ask. He just makes it happen. I have found my caramel chocolate.

My transmission hasn't dropped yet and my turn signal still works occasionally.

I have just enough money in my account to fill my gas tank until the next payday. That's better than most of the population I suppose. My bills are paid at least.

I'm in a good place. I can handle. I always have. This is living. Silvia and Ortiz won the fight. I think I can do better. Just hand over the title boys.

Monday, April 17, 2006

A few things

My ringtone.
On my friend Jens phone I'm AC/DC "Back in Black."
On SLJ's phone I'm Eminem "Shake that."
Everybody is Vibrate on my own phone.
If I'm paying the bill at least I get some enjoyment out of it.

SLJ took me to Marble Lake in Michigan Saturday.
It was a beautiful day.
A little cold on the boat,
but light hearted and serene.
Hardly anybody on the water,
besides the cranes, swans, and muskrats.
Trees just beginning to bud.
Water calm and decisive.
Perfect moment.
Camera couldn't even capture it.

I watched "Coach Carter" last night.
If you've ever seen that movie, then you've heard this:
(I dedicate this to you, my friend. It struck home for me as well.)

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.

a return to love - marianne williamson

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Where I'm from

Where I'm From - Tiny Dancer
I am from little red leather bound bibles, from Spaghetti O's and Ho Ho Ho Green Giant in a can.

I am from blackened woodbuners and ancient cemetaries where Mr. Fox rests.

I am from lilac bushes bigger than Barney and golden rows of perfectly spaced corn that whisper the secrets of deer.

I am from mushroom hunting and blue eyes. From Reba and her noodles and Clinton and his Cadillac and Swisher Sweets. From Dicey in her polyester suit and her vanilla cremes.

I am from slot machines and Jack Daniels, the cure for coughs, heartaches and stress.

From Bloody Mary in the mirror and sewer monsters in the toilet.

I am from Kenny Rogers, Willie Nelson and The Oak Ridge Boys about Christmas Carol. From Macy, Tory, Alanis and Mr. Mathers.

I am from fear of God and being humble. From unconditional love and never judgement.

I am from names of friends, immigrants from Germany, France and Mexico. Names never pronounced or spelled currectly but always creatively.

I am from the Mid-West, Mashed potatoes and potroast.

From Pioneers, Hawks, Cardinals, Raiders, Vikings and Cougars.

I am from pipeline operators towered over by white giants and homemakers handing out love.
From years of medicine and booming technology.

I am from many friends that walk beside me. From Red heads, belly dancers, Cowgirls and writers.

I am from a family of many strangers and many strangers who are family.

I am from Mothers and Fathers. Sons and daughters. From Zen, but mostly I am from within.

*Found this over at Robbies place. Thought I'd give it a try. http://robbiesruminations.blogspot.com/

Expression reflection

I was going thru some older entries the other day and ran across this one.
http://handstiedbehindmyback.blogspot.com/2005/12/expression.html


I smiled when I finished reading it.
I feel joy again.
This is such a nice place to be.
Such a good feeling.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Toaster Oven Analogy

I obviously have too much free time...

I have a burn on my left hand.
Posterior side, 3rd distal metacarpal area. Almost right on top of my middle finger knuckle.
I like bagels.
I like Thomas brand, multi-grain bagels.
I like them so much, I have one every morning.
Sometimes dry.
Sometimes w/ a smudge of butter.
Sometimes w/ Smuckers blackberry jelly.
Sometimes w/ cinnamon.
Sometimes w/ cream cheese.
But always toasted.
I got burnt pulling my bagel out of the toaster oven a week ago.
It smelled like the OR. Cauderized flesh.
It hurt.
Even with my high pain tolerance, I squeeled for a minute.
I like bagels enough that being burnt didn't stop me from having another bagel the next morning.
And the morning after that.
And every morning for a week since.
I still have the burn on my hand.
It looks bad.
It's healing.
Pre itch stage. Just a scab.
All those tiny little RBC's came to the rescue and did their job sufficiently.
Yes, it hurt pretty bad, but it's healing.
No, it hasn't stopped me from using the toaster oven or eating my bagel every morning.

Should I swear off all toaster ovens from here on out because I got burnt from one?
Should I take some time away from the toaster oven and just go untoasted for a little while?
Or switch to a regular toaster and jam my bagel in the toast slots? Force the issue? Just deal?
Should I see this as a sign and give up on bagels, because, clearly, toasted bagels are not meant for me?

No. I like toasted bagels.
Do I NEED bagels. No, I can survive with Strawberry Fields Kashi. I like it too. I like it very much. I just like Thomas brand Multi-grain bagels more. And they're available, so heck yah.

Can I eat a bagel that's not toasted. Sure. But I prefer it toasted. And it's available to be toasted. So I will toast it.

My hand will heal.
I will most likely always have a slight hint of a scar.
A blemish.
And I will always remember where that little blemish came from.
But I will use the toaster oven again.
Without fear.
But with slightly more awareness of my actions.
I know I can be burnt at any time.
But I will go back every morning.
And I will be satisfied.
I am not scared of being burnt again.
I like toasted bagels toasted in the toaster oven.
I'm scarred but smarter.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Me and you and my old friend fear

Fear is a nasty little creep isn't it. I was having some really weird feelings this weekend and couldn't figure out what my problem was. I'm finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. Doors are finally shutting and opening and in a few months I will most likely be out of my limbo and into a sort of comfort zone again. It's been almost 9 months of waiting and wanting and some of those dominoes are starting to fall... and I suddenly freak out. WTF?

I realized it was fear. I'm "getting back" some of the things I've "lost" and I'm scared to death that if I actually get it, I'll lose it again.

I had some major jealousy issues this weekend. That jealousy surprised me. Those old familiar feelings of inadequacy and jealousy I had w/ the STBX crept back up here and there. I haven't had to deal with those feelings for a little while and then poof, something small and insignificant triggered it. It started w/ a dream that was just a little difficult to shake. And then everything else followed. Weird how the mind plays games on reality. Self protect mechanisms kick in without a conscious effort.

Check this out...

Last Wednesday I spoke to the STBX. We decided that the attorneys are taking too long and that we need to hammer out a few things amongst ourselves and then go to the attorneys. So in doing this, I am thinking that my divorce should be final in no more than a few months at the latest. Cool.

It also looks like I have a plan of action. School will be out soon, I have a general game plan about our living situation. I'm excited about it. Going through my storage unit in my head. Material possessions that I've somehow lived without but miss just a little are going to be around me again. Organization and peace once again. Surrounded by everything that I love and want to be with. Seeing my santcuary once more in the near future.

My kids are with their father 6 days straight at the MILs house. They come back Weds. and will be with me for 5 days straight. Just splitting up Spring break. So, without my kids, I've been staying with SLJ in Ohio. We usually don't get this much time together, so it's been a nice treat. I moved a few things out of my overnight bag and into the medicine cabinet. Big steps. Getting more comfortable. This is where slight fear of losing all that is good steps in on some unconscious level.

I had a dream that SLJ hooked up with a woman I went to school with. Nicole. Nicole just so happened to steal my boyfriend in 8th grade. Nicole and SLJ hooked up in my dream. That was a hard one to shake. Once more, my buddy fear makes an appearance.

Small discussions and reminders here and there about past relationships enter the scene. Haircuts. Bedding. Cocobutter. Porn. X-ray training. Baby items. Just little, insignificant things that heighten the awareness of old fears, old pains and old insecurities.

I realize I'm acting crazy. Why do I feel like crying and burying my head? And then it dawns on me... This is my old friend Fear. Fear of losing a dream that doesn't entirely exist yet. Amazing how the mind can play it's tricks.

The past will remain in the past. Everything (including SLJ) is different now. Nothing but miracles await. I dance with my hands free now.

(In my sleep, I think I said "You aren't him" and I think you said "No, I'm not." Is that right? It seems familiar. Maybe I just thought that a million times and am constantly comforted by the fact that you are real and that I am loved unconditionally.)