Peaceful Easy Feeling

Just checking in, I am 12 hours north of Calgary in Prince Gorge BC spending Christmas with my husbands family. It is the first time in 30 years I am without my children. It's harder than I thought but we will be together for New Years. w's family are incredible, they have been so amazing! It truly is the great white north up here, pics to follow. Today, a moose sauntered through the yard, spent about 2 hours making his way across the acreage, it felt like I was in w's idea of heaven. The way the snow falls here is different than anywhere else I have been, I can see why they live here, it's stunningly beautiful.
My kids are well taken care of, spending time with loved ones, I am so grateful for that. Well, gotta go but hey, Merry Christmas all!

Bitterness, no just angry!

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire, it burns it all clean.
~ Maya Angelou

2012 has been a hard year. I hadn't expected that when it started, it did however prove to be a bit of a struggle and I will say, I am grateful it is coming to an end.

I was going over the blog posts from the last year, reminiscing of the bipolar nature of some of the entries. Saw some growth and saw more importantly the weak areas. Having that ability to look back through your words is so enriching. I have been journaling for as long as I can remember, it has saved me a few times.

So, as in all the other posts;

What am I on about?

On Sunday, W, D and I were sitting in the family room watching movies, laughing and enjoying the end of the weekend. The puppies ears perked and then became restless. They danced around and made some noise and we shushed them. They settled soon after and we thought nothing more of it.

In the morning, as we were leaving for work, there sticking out of the mailbox was an envelope. I knew as soon as I saw it what is was and this sense of frustration welled up inside me. Really? Really? Wow. I had heard in June we had been placed on the "no Contact" list some time ago by our old bishop. All those months I had thought people had just dropped us and then I found out it was an organized shunning.

You see, the last time I had spoken to the bishop my words were that if we were to get home teachers again, could he at least make it a pair that would come. I guess in bishop speak that means stay away, at least in his mind anyway. For months I had felt so abandoned. In reality it had been an organized exclusion. All of a sudden, it seemed to all make sense and I got angry.

But the anger turned to bitterness and I got lost in it and then all the little things that I used to be able to let go seemed to be piling up again. I was snowballing into the dance and I knew that it was a dance I was really no good at. I realized it was time to get the hell off the dance floor.

Reading the letter reminded me of the dance.

It also came at an inopportune time.

I am in a bind with raising boo. He has a nearly $10,000.00 dental/orthodontic bill and for the first time since doing this alone I am seeing debt that seems insurmountable. It'd be lovely if this was all cosmetic but boo has some real overbite issues and the work has to be done, we knew this when he was 13, we knew it was coming I just didn't expect to being doing it alone.

Boo has made every offer in the book, to forgo Christmas, quit school for a semester, sell his car. W has even offered to pay and struggle with me. I just can't ask that of him, D is not his kid. And D has done far too much. given up so much already to lose anything more than he already has.

So I did something I thought I'd never do again. I decided to ask M for help.

I asked boo what he thought, through the conversation, as hard as it was, I knew he had to be every part of this journey. He has given up so much and worked so hard to keep the things in his life he truly loves. I wrote the first letter and D gave his 2c worth. It was sent.

It was ignored. I could have been bitter but I can't afford to be.

Last night D and I tried again. We sat and Boo talked and I listened. The letter was written quickly and sent and then this flood gate opened and it wasn't the one you would think.

D talked about G and about his life and about what it meant to be broken. As I heard him talk about his pain and his loss and the sacrifices we will need to make in order for him to have a pain free life I realized I get to be angry, I get to be pissed about a man that doesn't understand what he has done by ignoring the letters. Oh maybe he does know, maybe it's about getting even.

I wonder sometimes how we balance the bitterness and the anger, especially at this time of year.

I'll find a way to make this work with Boo. Years from now we'll laugh about it in the same sick way we laugh now about some of the most horrible things that happened years ago. It is a twisted way of coping and when we laugh it means in a very real the anger is subdued and the bitterness wasting away.

The bonus of this whole mess, hearing my son talk about falling in love and being in a relationship of shared values and mutual respect. Of where he thinks it might be going and what she means to him. You see, that kind of night, makes this journey so worth it.

Yeah, it's going to be hard and yeah, it's a bit frustrating to have a man that you shared over 20 years together be such an asshole that he can't even answer a letter but what I have now reminds me that being bitter is just not the answer. Just get mad, vent and then let it go.

Letting go as I type.

And there were tears.....

“Weeping is not the same thing as crying, It takes your whole body to weep, and when it`s over, you feel like you don`t have any bones left to hold you up.” ― Sarah Ockler, Twenty Boy Summer

Wow, what a week. It seems that when you feel the most secure, somehow, the proverbial rug knows it and it just comes out right from under you. When that happens, W whisks me to my happy place and zen is soon upon me.

Where do I begin, well, lets talk pants.

My only real contact left with the Mormon Church comes from membership to a few Facebook groups. One being the FMH or feminist Mormon housewives. Love those girls. They are unafraid of their own commitment to change. A blog was posted about a thought. Wear pants to church in support of gender equality in the Mormon faith. Another member put it into action and before you knew it all hell broke lose.

I joined knowing full well that I wouldn't be showing up to church in pants. For obvious reasons, me at church in pants wouldn't be about the pants but that I was even at church at all. The point would then be missed but I wanted to be a part of it in the way I could; a support number, one of the over 2000 that saw this as possible.

Well, when you join a group what happens is you get the updates and by 10am on Wednesday my iphone was creating a nuisance, bang, bang, bang. WTH! I opened FB to find one of the most obnoxious occurrences on FB I had ever seen.

Death threats, seriously? Over wearing pants to church. Penis implants. Really? Is a woman donning a pair of pants at church that threatening? Really? By Thursday at 1pm FB had to actually pull the site down. WOW, can we say Mormons behaving badly?

Private inboxes were filled with hate, women were berating each other and what was once a thought now appeared to be a full on war to get those snarly FMH'ers back into their kitchens preferably barefoot and preggers. 

I have to say I wasn't surprised, those of us who have been on the receiving end of Mormons behaving badly know just how capable people can be at dispelling hate in the name of their righteous indignation.

I actually wept for those young woman who honestly set out for a dialogue and ended up being crushed with hate. They held their own but it was a battle that wounded many. It may have even changed some long held thoughts that change can come from within? I hope not though.

No sooner had the dust settled from the first round when news of the Newton massacre was leaking out and somehow, pants seemed trivial. 

Hate is hate. It can be dispelled in words, in written attacks and even with a gun. The levels that one reach is most often associated to mental health. I am thinking the BYU student who wrote on the pants wall that all those women wearing pants to church needed to be lined up and shot in the head may possibly be rethinking his words in light of Friday's happenings.

I doubt we will ever know what brought a 20 years old young man to ever walk into a room full of young children and aim let alone shoot an automatic weapon killing almost all of them. There is a part of me that hopes I will never understand why because somehow understanding that is inconceivable to me. Understanding it means I understand that kind of evil and I just don't want to go there.

Same with all the hate that was dispelled to those beautiful women at FMH. I will never understand that, ever!

So today, as I open the FMH FB group and see picture after picture of women and children and husbands and sons in purple and pant suits I wonder if because of all that happened this week they were all saying so much more than anything a simple pair of pants could have said. It was more than just gender equality, it was about standing up for it all, for everyone.

Love those girls, just love em!

Integrity

“If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.” ~JK ROWLING

I was reminded today about integrity, in an odd way as a matter of fact, and it made me wonder; what is integrity? 

I am taken back to a funeral, a crazy nightmarish time between making a decision and actually following through with it. 

There I was completely humiliated and facing a group of people who had only heard hateful things about me at the mouth of the person who had died. There standing at the pupil was another man who announced that the person who had died was a man without guile. 

I thought to myself, "are your serious?" 

In the 20 plus years I had known him for the good I did see him do what I knew of him was he had guile and spite and could be incredibly mean when he wanted to be and in the few months before he died I had felt every sting he had intended for me and I was at a loss. How can anyone not see that side of him? How could anyone stand and say he was without guile.

I think I walked away that day trying really hard to understand not only myself and my perspectives but what is it that we leave behind that could have two such opposing points of reference to a single soul?

Fast forward nearly 10 years.

I heard my ex referenced as a man with integrity.

What? Really?

Integrity is such a huge part of what brings value to a full life. To what measure can one be integral?

My soul stirs with anger when I think that he is referenced this way?

Everyday I pick up the pieces of the remnants of what M has imploded into our lives. His actions caused such an intense amount of pain, his continued disregard to any kind of support financially or emotionally in his son's life, I could go on and list thousands of reasons why integrity is the last word that should ever be used to describe him and yet, those he has so easily hid all of what damage he has left behind him, do in fact call him that.

And it may me think.

I live in a different world now. The people I interact with would describe integrity much differently than my old life would agree to. Where M lives now, no doubt, they see him as a "Job" like character who suffers through not being able to work, not having contact with his children, a crazy ex wife who seems to just hate on him without quitting and I am sure this is all they know. If that is all they have to reference it then he can be referenced to integrity.

He did the damage, more than some will ever know and then he ran.

Everyday, I face his words, his guile. his actions in ways some will never understand. I wish I could have all the pain and all the hurt and all the abuse just wash away. In reality it has become the past for most of us but it's left us broken in ways that surface occasionally and we are continually forced to live through the craziness and upheaval of being broken.

I think this is why leaving the church became part of my journey. Because there will always be a difference of opinion to what really makes a man integral.

I can't undo the past, I can say I'm sorry and I can try as best as I can to undo the damage. Sometimes that means hurting and holding myself as I watch my children grow. 

I didn't run, I have always been here in and amongst the broken pieces that are slowly forming into a beautiful work of art.... a healed family. I don't invoke the sympathy of strangers telling tales of woe. I take the anger, the frustration, the JOY and the love that comes from getting through a difficult life and I hold it dear to my heart. I am there to be proud, to shoulder the pain and to sometimes be the focus of the anger because as Dr W said, "you're the one they get angry with because they know you will always love them, no conditions."

I don't know the actual definition of integrity, I really, in the end don't care what it is I just know that I have to live with differences of opinion. I live each day knowing my role in why my family broke and continue trying everyday to make it just a little more right.

So, did the man without guile have it? Yes, towards me he did but to the man who spoke at his funeral I am sure he never once saw it so his talk was referencing his perspective. It was his truth.

To those that see M as integral, I am sure he is in every way.

For me though, I would say differently as I am sure he would of me.

Someday maybe M will know in his heart what happened had a lot to do with his actions and maybe then he will say sorry. I think that will be when I may find a way to see some kind of integrity in him. Until then though, I just can't see it.

“Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.” ~ Marcus Aurelius

The Sound of Silence

Sometimes one creates a dynamic impression by saying something, and sometimes one creates as significant an impression by remaining silent. ~ Dalai Lama

So it's been a while. I've been incredibly busy at work and mostly I have wanted to think deeply and try and remember what the purpose of this blog is.

To remind myself and others what that purpose is.

"Enjoying the Journey" is a historical record for my children and their children and their children and so on and so on in my journey to find JOY.

It's been hard the last few months to be joyful; to find the purpose in the events that I was struggling with. In the end though, at least this series of endings, silence has rewarded me.

That being said, I did however, lose it last week.

Here it goes.

"I've tried to find some quote or some wise words of wisdom to address a post. I have stayed silent for a reason but when my faith comes under criticism because people see my walking away as some lack of it, I get angry. Sometimes the weakness for some (and by that I mean SOME) is in the staying. When you have walked my path and when you can know my heart then maybe you might be able to understand.

I have never been more faithful or strong. I am willing to show my weaknesses and more importantly I see them more as way to grow in my humanity and not some indicator of a lack of faith. Yes, FB is a ridiculous place to say this but come-on, it's truly the only place left that any of you have contact with me outside of the very few that have taken the time to find out what really happened. I think, for the first in a very long time I am finally who I was always meant to be. What is so offensive, that I left or that I left and found myself? Yeah, its a rant, but seriously, this is old. I am purposely quiet, I have accepted that ALL of us, by the very PLAN OF SALVATION of the church you hold so true to, grants that I have this choice. I am not ANTI MORMON, I am not a standard bearer for ex-mormons, I am not someone who bashes the LDS faith on a regular basis so why must you find such reason to call into question mine. Faith, by definition; your definition, is a hope for things unseen, if you only knew what my hopes were instead of judging them. I have known the best of people in my old religion and the worst, why are the the most insensitive the loudest? Maybe your post wasn't directed at me, maybe I am a bit sensitive but overall, moments like this are when I am grateful I am free to be, say and love in a world that accepts everyone without an exclusionary clause. Rant OVER!"

I totally lost it on FB. One of the few remaining LDS friends I have left posted a quote from the infamous conference talk about those who leave. It has in-sighted major discussion on the forums and blogs of many an ex-mormon, hurt deeply many who didn't just "give up" as the quote would have insinuated. I've read, listened to and studied the words and I simply choose to ignore them understanding the never ending principle of "walking in my shoes".

Something snapped inside me that moment I read the quote posted on FB, maybe because it was someone I admired, someone who had been dorment on FB and who's only glimpse at my life comes through FB.I can't say exactly why but I wrote, hard, my feelings.

I could go through it all again, about the loneliness, the broken social environment, the lost life but it's mute but what I can say is no one would volunteer this life without first reasoning and knowing it is the HARDEST path and not about the easy choices. Nothing about the last 2 and some months of my life have been easy.

He has since contacted me and apologized. (the friend who placed the post) and I have said as well that I had been too sensitive.

Those who KNOW what happened understand why leaving really was the only choice when it came to the emotional healing of not only my life but my family's as well.  That's really all that needs said.

As I was mulling all of this over I was reminded of something that made FB and all the rants and raves and intrusions worthy of whatever the outcome is.

A pet peeve I have had of late was all the "evil verses good" rhetoric of the American election that was inundating FB. It became a gong show of sorts and when the personal attacks of Obama became almost an hourly occurrence I removed myself for a while because I had to remain silent so others would respect my need for silence. When it was all said and done, the American election I mean, and all of the Mormons who were calling it the end of days as they knew it were going crazy on their walls, up popped this....

"still a beautiful day in the greatest nation on earth! I hope that both sides put politics aside and do what's best for the country! God Bless the United States of America!!"

I haven't met my nephew's wife, I am not even sure whether she or he wrote it but there it was amongst all the gloom and doom and poor sportsmanship; a simple line that reaffirmed to me that even in the haven of all things Mormon was a young family that understood that healing needed to be done so what's "best" could be accomplished.

I realized when my friend messaged me and asked if it was his words that had offended me I had to make the choice to understand and to realize that some feel very differently than I do about a lot of things. Thinking differently isn't the issue, it remains in the demand that you or I must all think the same.

I escaped that world, shaped by narcissism and religious zealousness. In each day I pray with the gratitude of knowing who and what I am in my God's eyes knowing that I have no monopoly on His existence. I am grateful everyday for the peace I have in the silence I seek so profoundly for.

18629

“I am Me. In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me. Everything that comes out of me is authentically mine, because I alone chose it -- I own everything about me: my body, my feelings, my mouth, my voice, all my actions, whether they be to others or myself. I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears. I own my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes. Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with all my parts. I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, and other aspects that I do not know -- but as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for solutions to the puzzles and ways to find out more about me. However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is authentically me. If later some parts of how I looked, sounded, thought, and felt turn out to be unfitting, I can discard that which is unfitting, keep the rest, and invent something new for that which I discarded. I can see, hear, feel, think, say, and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, and to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me. I own me, and therefore, I can engineer me. I am me, and I am Okay.” ~ Virgina Star

Day 1 - of the beginning of my 52nd rotation and I already feel deflated. I will pick myself up and I will move forward yet again.

God I hate pity parties, they are getting so frickin' old.

My Respite

What I dream of is an art of balance, of purity and serenity devoid of troubling or depressing subject matter - a soothing, calming influence on the mind, rather like a good armchair which provides relaxation from physical fatigue. 

~Henri Matisse

Time

"I wish it need not have
happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf,
"and so do all who live to see such times.
But that is not for them to decide.
All we have to decide
is what to do with the time that is given us." 

~ J.R.R. Tolkien,
The Fellowship of the Ring

I was thinking about time today, in the few moments my mind has to wander during the day. I wondered about what it means and how it passes and how it leaves as quickly as it comes. It left me wondering if I truly appreciated all it is in my life.

October is closing, TG. This first few days of November pass quietly. I find it easier that way. I spent so many years dreading that first week of the 11th month. Now, it belongs to me again and I choose which way it goes and mostly I choose peace.

It's not pleasant knowing a hurricane with your name caused such damage to so many. My boss laughed about it today and said I was the polar opposite of a hurricane, quiet, peaceful, solemn. I laughed at him and said, "you didn't know me back when". He is a thoughtful man; his reply, "what you were then made you what you are today, for that, we are grateful."

It's funny, I didn't see myself as peaceful. Inside is a turbulent, analytical crazy woman holding it together with self talk that takes that extra moment to calm herself down before she reacts. Is that the definition of sanity? Who would have thought that possible?

W and I are heading for a weekend in the mountains. We will be overlooking the river; a stone's throw from the lakes. D is home alone, old enough to be trusted and strong enough to care if friends do come over. My babies are grown, all grown and there is something that stirs inside me that says I did OK. I did the best I could in a life where best meant survival at times.

51 rotations around the sun, 18, 628 twirls spinning on the globe. I was thinking that over half my life is over. What's left is the mark I leave on my grandchildren. Tears flow when I think of them and those that will be. Will I be everything to them that Joy was to my children? Will they smile when they see me, wait, that was C who smiled the other day and M too, shy as he is?

May God grant me the moments my mother had. May my life be a legacy, as difficult as that can be and may I live to it's demands. I didn't know so much love could give so much happiness and crush you as well. Family is the song that defines you.

October proved this to me, it will always be a hard month. I made it, it's all up from here.

The Embers of Fall are Fading

"Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappointment them" 

~ Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper

Somedays are just hard, some easy. For years they were always hard. I think that was during a time when I had the greatest of expectations of people. Now, I truly expect nothing. This past couple of weeks has been a bit of an awakening. I am grateful for it but more I think I am just accepting the fact that at the end of the day, mattering has to be all about yourself.

I took a taxi home today. I love riding in the taxi's because the drivers are so diverse. Their stories so incredible. You know that song that says they probably have a Phd. They almost always are underemployed, doing what they can to support their families. Inevitably putting their children through universities as they become Dr.'s and lawyers.

Today was no exception, this driver was very talkative.He wore the uniform of an extremest muslim and at first my mind leapt to the judgment of the armour. The draped shirts and flappy pants, the hat we see so often see on the heads of the men in the taliban.  

As the journey began he asked how my day was, I looked tired and I knew it but he comment how wonderful weekends were and I agreed. He asked where I worked or what I did and I commented oil and gas. That's usually good for a conversation starter and then it began. He had been a professor in Karachi, Pakistan. He came to Canada in 1971, before the troubles, couldn't find a job and ended up working in a garment factory in Toronto. He rose the mill ladder until he was hired by SunIce to head their sewing room. In the hey day it produced so many jackets and coats that were shipped all over the world. 

Then the jobs left - to the countries around where he was born and slowly but surely everyone was let go at Sun Ice. He tried tailoring but couldn't support his family so he ended up driving a cab.

He spoke of moving into a new neighbourhood and his neighbour didn't like the color of his skin. They egged his house and called his children names but they persevered  He spoke of the Koran and what it teaches, what it really teaches and then he spoke about being muslim and what it means to him.

I told him about how I had read the Koran. How I felt it was overall a peaceful book. He spoke about how he has had to internalize his faith and live to what he knows his faith wants of him and he spoke about war and about extremism. As he spoke I realized his roots in his faith were strong but he was as disappointed in his people as I have been in mine. 

God works in mysterious ways. I needed to hear what he had to say today. 

So, what am I on about?

I admit loneliness. You see, I tried hard to fit in but it wasn't me. 

Someday, I am sure, in time, I will understand human nature.

I was asked the other day if I saw another's point of view. I do, I really do. I just don't get it.

I worked with a person a long time ago. I lovely hard working sewing machine saleswoman who's been doing it for as long as I have been sewing, over 35 years. We had worked together for a year or so and she just pulled me to her side, put her arms around me and gave me advice I cherish to this day.

"Life will get better when you understand S that people will always disappoint you."

If I could see her now, I would respond;

"It's not that people disappoint me B, it's that I disappoint myself in ever expecting anything better."

Words

"I can remember the frustration of not being able to talk. I knew what I wanted to say, but I could not get the words out, so I would just scream. ~ Temple Grandin

Did you ever just want to stand in the middle of a crowded room and scream just to be heard? I really can't say that is my deepest and grandest fantasy but there are times when I would just love to know that my words mattered, that my heart mattered, that my feelings were valid.

It has been an extremely rough month. I can count on October being difficult but this one is just crushing me and I have been calling uncle all over the place. It hasn't been working.

So, I am going to bare my soul with this post, open it wide open as they say and hopefully, in the universe, somewhere I'll be heard.

My mother's name is(was) JOY. Well, really it was JOYCE but she hated her full name even more than I dislike mine so everyone knew her as JOY.

She passed away 6 years ago.  6 long years ago.

Mom had a gift, she got it from her Mom who got it from her Mom who got it from her Mom, well, you know how that goes.

Mom used to do this thing, these words, each time you left her either by phone or in person because it was just what she did, all the time. You never left her without telling her you loved her. She would then respond, "I love you more".

She meant it, she did love you more and now, 6 years later I know exactly what she meant when she said it.

Who would have thought that 3, oh wait, 4 words could come to mean so much and be so missed in such a profound way.

You see, the words I love you make a huge impact on your psyche. Knowing someone cares in that way makes facing the world a bit easier.

I miss hearing her say that more than any of you could ever know.

I get that people misunderstand me. I get that voicing an emotion can sometimes,  oh wait, will always backfire in the dynamics of my family so that has been my fault, my breaking point for this hard month.

My words matter to me and I have to realize that after years of not mattering that I can be better than that.

October will be over soon, I can hardly wait. I need it to come to a close.