I should have been a Catholic

Why? Guilt. The guilt I carry around cries out for absolution. But, I'm not Catholic. Though I do believe that origin of how to feel guilt did come from religion. Attending church on Sunday's was not an option in my family. So regularly I went, bucking the system and lashing out every step of the way. Occasionally I would find peace but most of the time I just felt worse about myself after being there. Hearing the pastor talk about sin and hell stirred a need inside of me to prove him wrong. I set out to be as controversial as possible, pushing limits and daring God to strike me down. He never did though, and the end result Sunday after Sunday was guilt.

I have not been able to pinpoint why it is so strong and relevant in my current life. I do not practice a "religion" though I attend different churches occasionally and believe myself to be a spiritual person. So you would think my guilt meter would be relatively steady. Unfortunately burned into my DNA, is the instinctive act of placing guilt with every error.

Why should I feel guilty over every mistake I make? I think the more important task would be to learn from your error, not to wallow in the guilt. I am merely trying not to sin to avoid the guilty feeling. How is that productive?? I want to be the kind of person who tries not to make a mistake because of the consequences not the guilt. I want to let the guilt go and learn.

How do I break free from this cycle? Today I did it with a run and some meditation. But I know I need to change my thinking. I need to replace the words sin and guilt in my mind and change them to mistakes and learning experiences. Because isn't that truly all sin is, a mistake? And isn't guilt supposed to remind us of the why?

I should have been a Catholic - absolution would be much easier than this.

I'll shut up now, thanks...

The Monkey On My Back - Part One

I am surprised yet comforted to have found other women who have spent a lifetime being plagued by the same “monkey on their back” feeling. This little character, who sometimes resembles a child's backpack and other times a modern day Godzilla, is a troublesome entity that adds to my wrinkles and mocks my attempts at sleep. Despite its addictive nature there are no literal drugs or alcohol involved. Rather the need blooms from the tic-tocking hand of the clock that hangs in my kitchen, sits on my wrist, and flashes in my car. I'm not talking about the balancing act of life as we try to fit too much into one day, no this is something that runs much deeper. This is a rooted feeling that I am being pushed forward at an accelerated rate while moments that I want to enjoy pass by before I know they are gone. This is the old live in the moment cliche that only an elusive few seem to master. The quest for peace or even stillness in a constantly moving world. It is why we flock to movies like Eat, Pray, Love. We want, no need to believe that it is achievable. And I believe it is. The error we have been making is in the thinking that if we find it on our own it is enough. It is not. It is time for a larger change, one that re-wires our brains in this high speed world.

As a single woman my focus was on finding a man. This, I call the societal trap of settling down. In this scenario it can be a who or a what that is motivating and pressing hard against your back bone. When it is a who, it is typically a woman, perhaps a mom, sister, friend or even a new acquaintance. Their questions always the same and depicted repeatedly as normal in every romantic movie you watch. The what is a more broad spectrum of assailants. It could be the solitary egg you cooked for breakfast, a couple holding hands as they walk down the street, or that fact that all of your friends are now spending more time with their spouses. This is a woman's first step in adulthood, to find a man.

I speak from a woman's perspective merely because I am one. When the truth is that this pressure also holds true for a man. However, the usual driving force is still that of a woman. Only in extreme cases do you hear of a father pestering his son to settle down or get married. Their general outlook is usually quite the opposite, one filled with nothing but time.

What we have then are laid back men and high strung women looking for companionship. It is no wonder that individuals find themselves in failed marriages. With this recipe how could you not?

Why are we in such a hurry to find our mate? Who says what age is too old to be single? What makes people still jump to the conclusion that a middle aged man or woman who has never been married might be gay? Can't we say as a whole that when the right person comes along then it is the right time? Isn't that what you would wish on your loved ones? To find their best fit?

We need to believe more in the art of trusting our gut/heart. That when the person is right something in you just knows. Too many people allow the perceived pressure to give them that “aha” feeling. The fact that this might be the best they can get and if they don't take it, they lose it.

I would like to project a new thought: Time is not running out, your best fit is out there – wait for them.

Without that pressure, relationships would have the proper time they need to develop. Some would go the distance and others would obviously not. Many marriages would have never occurred and divorces in kind.

Can we change our mentality? I would hope so and I think historically we have but the need must be recognized.

So, let us say that you have conquered that quest, your mate found and a ring safely on your finger. That the monkey on your back is pacified and now you can relax. The nagging feeling disappears and life is good. Right?

Wrong. Tomorrow I will jump into the second primate behind us....having a baby.

I'll shut up now, thanks...

Walking Eccentric

Lately my posts have been about life, moving and beautiful life. The art and the act of trying to live as best we can. And in this state of mind I have become very observant of people.

Today as I looked out my living room window as I moved dishes from the sofa table to the sink and I saw a man walking. Not an unusual site for my neighborhood but immediately he struck me as odd.

He was early to mid sixties with dark hair and glasses. He wore a blue and white striped shirt, black sports shorts, long white socks pulled up to his calf, and brown leather loafers. Uniform aside, his gait was one of purpose filled chaos.

It was all I could do not to laugh as his arms swung wildly front and back, front and back. A rhythm to be sure but no music in his ears. With his gaze fixed straight ahead looking as if he was headed somewhere... but where?

Had his car broke down? Was his grandson ahead of him on a bike? Did his dog run off? Perhaps a neighbor was coming out their front door that he wanted to catch before they went back in. Yes, I could almost see his hand lifting up for a wave.

Putting it out of my mind I continued on with my day. but to my surprise, an hour later I saw him again. The only difference was that he had removed his shirt and now held it in one of his hands. I have to admit, it altered his gait a bit to hold it.

So, sixty minutes later this man in brown loafers was still out walking. I wanted to know why so I did the only thing I could at that point which was to watch him. I moved to my second floor and found a window overlooking his neighborhood path. There, I sat watching as he walked and walked and walked.

It was almost as if Forest Gump himself had entered our subdivision. I feared that like Forest he was walking from something. In fact with each passing lap it became more clear. His face was fixed in stern concentration and this walk was punishment.

Instantly I felt sorry for him. What was eating at him so much that he needed to punish not only his mind but his body? I began to hypothesize.

a recently deceased wife
an estranged child
a lost grandchild
being fired
feeling alone

Slowly I went back to my household chores and I let the image slip from my mind.

It was only when I left three hours later to go pick up my son that I thought of him once more. Backing out my car to the site of him in my review mirror, still walking. I gasped with surprise.

I'll shut up now, thanks...

Celebrity Syndrome - I'm sick of it!!!

I am so sick of the "Celebrity Syndrome" in this country. And I mean celebrity in the broadest terms. Whether it be political, sports, entertainment, or one of wealth they are all the same and it is all our fault.

What do I mean? Surely everyone knows and is as thoroughly fed up with it as I am.

First I must explain how I feel about human nature. I believe we all make mistakes. I know everyone has their own issues, God knows I have mine. But when celebrities are above not only the law but society, I have a real problem.

Let us look at real life. Taking out names and laying down the facts we have this glowing list:

DUI
DUI
Reckless Driving
Possession
Rehab
Rehab
Rehab

Does this sound like someone you would be friends with? Someone that you would hire? Society might turn their back on this person site unseen just based off of these life choices. They might not be able to get work. Most likely if they did find a job it would be minimum wage and taxing work. We certainly would never dream of putting them in front of our child as a role model or person to look up too. Nor would we offer them thousands of dollars to work for us. Lucky to be a celebrity. Sucks to be the average Joe.

Average Joe - Felony on application = not getting the job = poor.

Celebrity - Felony on application = more press = more fame = bigger paycheck.

Or let's bring it to even more serious terms with regard to their impact on our children.

Teacher, principle, school worker gets DUI - do we still allow them to keep their position? Are they allowed to still be involved in our children's lives?

Celebrity gets DUI - News everywhere and still influencing our children. What lesson are we teaching celebrities and our youth by letting them continually slide?

It is simple, the lesson they learn is that if you have enough money or fame you can get by with anything.

No wonder so many go off the deep end. what type of life is this when there are no boundaries? without them our minds go into chaos and ultimately look for escapes.

So escape.... but use your "driver", limo, or millions of dollars to buy a cab.

I'll shut up now, thanks...

The woman who literally walked away...

So I read an article the other day forwarded to me from a friend of a friend of a friend (hate those) but the title caught my eye, "The woman who literally walked away." Basic premise of the story was that an adult woman had gone missing. Initially the police and family believed there to be foul play involved but after finding her car parked at a nearby beach with her purse and keys in the car their mindset switched to suicide.

For weeks friends and family posted pictures around the city hoping to find anyone who might have seen the woman. It was presumed by all involved that she simply walked into the ocean and never returned. Whether by suicide or accident the watery grave held her mysteries for eternity. That was until the day that someone found her sitting on the beach.

She was taken to the hospital and treated for sunburn and dehydration. So what happened? She won't say. That's right, she claims to not be able to talk about it. The official report was that no crime was committed and the family is happy to have her home.

Is she happy to be home?

This woman who just weeks before walked away from her parked car and started living somewhere near or at the beach. Who despite seeing pictures of her face in various places remained hidden. Was she abducted? Abused? Crazy? All reports towards those scenarios were cleared. No evidence of a crime. Cleared by a psychiatrist. In fact, one statement from the police said that it was not a crime to not want to be found.

So, who out there has wanted to walk away and never return? To just start in one direction and never look back?

What in her life pushed her to that extreme? What was she hiding from or running to?

I'm reminded of a quote from the book Revolutionary Road, "No, Frank. This is what's unrealistic. It's unrealistic for a man with a fine mind to go on working year after year at a job he can't stand. Coming home to a place he can't stand, to a wife who's equally unable to stand the same things. And you know what the worst part of it is? Our whole existence here is based on this great premise that we're special. They we're superior to the whole thing. But we're not. We're just like everyone else! We bought into the same, ridiculous delusion. That we have to resign from life and settle down the moment we have children. And we've been punishing each other for it."

Sometimes people wake up and have no idea how they ended up where they are. There are those that fix this feeling by buying a fancy new car or making a drastic life change. In those instances we cry midlife crisis. I'd like to challenge the same in this story, that she simply looked at her life and no longer recognized it as her own or as she once dreamed it would be. We come to a wall at that moment and something has to change.....anything.
Maybe she found herself in that place, unable to attach herself to anything stable and so she ran from it all. I have heard more moms than I care to admit articulate that same sentiment in wish form.

So after all of these years of forward movement why does it seem that women still can't seem to balance family and self? Why is it that their needs are still placed on the last wrung of the family ladder?

I survived my first mid-life crisis like that of a surf boarders dream swell turned horribly wrong, leaving in my wake pain and confusion. I view it now though as the little leak of air that kept me from popping. The necessary evil to help balance and sanity prevail.

Thank you to those who helped me through. You that inspired me, loved me unconditionally and held me close even when I was fighting to run.

So, the woman who literally walked away - I hope this is not you but I fear too many of us stuff the desire instead of talking about it. Find someone to confide in. I'm happy to listen. No need to be embarrassed or ashamed. I can assure you that I had to hit the floor with humility and beg for help back up.

I'll shut up now thanks...

Why I will never become a famous writer

Grammatical and spelling errors aside, there is another reason that I will never become a famous author and the word used to describe it is guts. Yep, plain old fashioned guts, courage, or balls. Call it what you like unfortunately when it comes to putting it in my "real" writing all that I have goes missing.

I used to keep a journal. My deepest darkest secrets would be recorded there hidden away but also vented through my creative art. I believe this helped keep my mental state in check and when utilized correctly also kept all of my embarrassing items secret. Unfortunately I stopped doing that and started keeping everything bottled up inside. There it would remain for hours, days, weeks and even months simply lying dormant but balanced on my self created teeter totter. Just one extra emotional ounce in any direction would send me either flying up or crashing down.

So why then did I stop writing my journal if it helped me manage all that was going on in my life?

1. Age - I started to wise up to the fact that people could find and read my journal whenever they wanted.

2. Type of secrets

3. Time - Really between work, kids and a husband time became a big constraint.

4. Fear - that someone would read them and judge me.

In my opinion a true creative genius takes their struggles and allows them to feed their art. I wish I could do that. To be so un-afraid and free is most definitely my true calling but I just cannot seem to get past my good ole christian guilt and religion born mistrust.

I've written several novels none of which were gritty or real nor fantasy enough to engulf the reader. I guess to be me, and write with any honesty I would need to be anonymous. Should I adopt a pen name and write the novel inside of me that I know is there?

I'll shut up now thanks...