"I had forgotten about this place. This wonderful, healing place. I am surrounded by light, I am surrounded by love. I am safe, I am protected in this place. I am a better person because of it, I am a lighter person than when I came. Ahhh...this place! This place is sacred, as is my time here..."
Everyone deserves to have a place. A place they can escape to where life can be put on hold. A place that allows them to remember who they are without all of life's "stuff". Any place that eases the mind and the spirit. Where the "To Do" list doesn't exist and the only sounds you hear are those that are carried by the wind. No honking horns, no television blaring, no computers, no iphones or itunes or ipads or ican't hear my own thoughts because all of this technology is suffocating them. No children or co-workers carrying on about this or that.
We all deserve a place where what the clock says doesn't matter and the only reminders of time are the rising of the sun and the moon. A place where you can breathe so easy that you don't even notice your breath. A special place where your heart is reminded of how little it needs to be truly joyful.
Periodically I go to this place, and I'm reminded of the magic it holds. Everyone deserves to have a place. Find yours and GO! You deserve it.
xo,
Carrie
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Fear (cont'd.)
It's good to remember where we've been so we can truly be thankful for where we are. Writing has always helped me to do that, because you can see where you've been right there in black and white. There's no forgetting. It's good and healthy to move past the trying times in our lives but some things should never be forgotten. So in keeping with yesterday's theme, another reminder as to why I am so incredibly thankful -
A MOTHER'S PRAYER
As I lay down to sleep tonight
I sense that ever present fright
My instinct screams its fight or flight
Neither option will rid of this fear
Where are you tonight my precious son
Your descent into hell, long since begun
At first the drug use was so much fun
How could you know this day would come
"Release with love" is what I'm told
So I give you some blankets to ward off the cold
Knowing a car tonight will be your home
And I lay here and pray you'll survive
This safe haven no longer yours to call home
Accepting your darkest hour must be faced alone
This battle with your demons leaves you bare to the bone
How can I possibly help you now
They say I must stop this codependency
God help me, this child's soul is a part of me
Damn it! What else would you expect of me?
I don't know how change will come
My love is enabling this boy to be
All the things he can no longer be
Perhaps the time's come for me to see
Love needs to be different now
But the pain in your eyes overwhelms me so
The tears on your face follow me wherever I go
Still the drugs won't release their powerful hold
Lord please help my defeated soul
There's strength to be found in the heavens above
Maybe with help, I'll find a new way to love
Or maybe, truth be told, my love just isn't enough
Your will must determine your path
You can save yourself or be your worst enemy
Only YOU can control your destiny
It's clear the time has come for me to set you free
And I'll do it, no matter the cost
It's time for me to begin to heal
As best I can with this fear so real
Knowing my heart may always feel
I should have done something more
I surrender it all to a higher being
Test my belief in all things unseen
Give thanks for the shoulders on which I can lean
Heed the advice to simply "breathe"
Divine intervention is now what I'll pray for
That time, faith and love will take us through this door
That this life is something you're willing to fight for
And you know my love, whatever it's form, will always be yours
xo,
Carrie
A MOTHER'S PRAYER
As I lay down to sleep tonight
I sense that ever present fright
My instinct screams its fight or flight
Neither option will rid of this fear
Where are you tonight my precious son
Your descent into hell, long since begun
At first the drug use was so much fun
How could you know this day would come
"Release with love" is what I'm told
So I give you some blankets to ward off the cold
Knowing a car tonight will be your home
And I lay here and pray you'll survive
This safe haven no longer yours to call home
Accepting your darkest hour must be faced alone
This battle with your demons leaves you bare to the bone
How can I possibly help you now
They say I must stop this codependency
God help me, this child's soul is a part of me
Damn it! What else would you expect of me?
I don't know how change will come
My love is enabling this boy to be
All the things he can no longer be
Perhaps the time's come for me to see
Love needs to be different now
But the pain in your eyes overwhelms me so
The tears on your face follow me wherever I go
Still the drugs won't release their powerful hold
Lord please help my defeated soul
There's strength to be found in the heavens above
Maybe with help, I'll find a new way to love
Or maybe, truth be told, my love just isn't enough
Your will must determine your path
You can save yourself or be your worst enemy
Only YOU can control your destiny
It's clear the time has come for me to set you free
And I'll do it, no matter the cost
It's time for me to begin to heal
As best I can with this fear so real
Knowing my heart may always feel
I should have done something more
I surrender it all to a higher being
Test my belief in all things unseen
Give thanks for the shoulders on which I can lean
Heed the advice to simply "breathe"
Divine intervention is now what I'll pray for
That time, faith and love will take us through this door
That this life is something you're willing to fight for
And you know my love, whatever it's form, will always be yours
xo,
Carrie
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Fear
I've come to accept that I suffer from a type of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Nothing makes this clearer to me than when the phone rings late at night or after I've fallen asleep like it did last night. One ring...then nothing. That's all it takes. And it always stirs the same reaction in me; pounding heart, racing pulse, teardrops ready to fall and a brain that's screaming, "BE PREPARED!".
Late night always seemed to be when the bad phone calls came when my son was using drugs. They came at other hours too, but the ones that come late at night stick with you. Inevitably when the phone rang at that hour it was the police or a hospital. It was a "friend" in a drugged up stupor or a drug dealer looking for him. As hard as those calls were, the hardest were the ones from him when he was distraught, in tears, in pain or cold with nowhere to go, begging to come home, "Just one more time". Absolutely heartbreaking stuff.
Just to give you an idea, here's a brief example of what used to be"A week in the life" at our household. Mind you this is one week out of years, and as time went on the events became more traumatic, including death.
Monday - Son's friend showed up today to tell me son had stayed with him last night and he's now missing money from his drawer. He's upset because it's birthday money from his dad. He also informs me that he believes son has been stealing money from everyone at my relative's house where he's been staying. Says if he finds son, he's going to hurt him.
Tuesday - Came home today to son's friend's car in driveway. Know this can't be good news. Hands me my relative's checkbook which he obtained by jacking son up against the wall and searching him. I told him I'd rather he not share more details. I now have to call relatives and let them know.
Wednesday - Son informs me that he is no longer just snorting heroin and shows me track marks on his arms. My son who is petrified of needles, is now shooting heroin.
Thursday - Six kids showed up today looking for son. Say he stole an ounce of pot from one of them and are here to teach him a lesson. Son goes out to "talk" to them and as I stand with phone in hand, ready to call police, big brother and friends go to son's rescue and son is able to talk his way out of it.
Friday - Son informs me that his friend who is pregnant and also a heroin addict may be carrying his child (thank GOD this proved to be false).
Saturday - Friend showed up today saying son cashed bad check using his mother's grocery store card which he had stolen and now mother is being held accountable for amount cashed. Friend's mother calls me and says she now doesn't have enough money for bills - we reimburse her.
Sunday - 7:00 a.m. doorbell rings. Drug dealer says son owes him money. I slam door in his face after telling him never to set foot on our property again or police will be called.
The fear we lived with during those years was paralyzing. I think every decision I made in regards to him was fear based. It was fear that allowed him to live in our house for as long as he did, regardless of the fact that the chaos was killing the rest of us. It was fear that enabled his addiction for so long and allowed me to choose him over the well being of his two brothers, my husband and myself, time after time, after time. It was fear that drove to the emergency rooms, the police stations, the court houses, the detox facilities and rehabs at all hours of the night in an attempt to "save" him because somehow I knew THIS time would be different. It was fear that was driving a wedge between my husband and I, a wedge I wasn't sure we'd be able to find our way out of at times. It was fear that started causing the numerous physical ailments that were showing up in my body and finally it was fear that caused the depression that enabled me to do only the bare minimum necessary to survive day in and day out. It was that depression that finally caused me, out of desperation, to walk into my first Families Anonymous meeting, which was ultimately my saving grace. Those meetings (and there were years worth) were responsible for teaching me how to do it differently.
Yes, it was fear that fueled all of these things. Fear...and love. Thank God this is no longer our lives. Thank God this is no longer HIS life. I know enough about addiction to know it could be again at the drop of a hat so for today, I am thankful.
Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I don't pretend to compare what we've experienced to what a soldier experiences when he comes home from war, but it is a strong reminder to me when that phone rings late at night, that my heart has done battle it won't soon forget.
xo,
Carrie
Late night always seemed to be when the bad phone calls came when my son was using drugs. They came at other hours too, but the ones that come late at night stick with you. Inevitably when the phone rang at that hour it was the police or a hospital. It was a "friend" in a drugged up stupor or a drug dealer looking for him. As hard as those calls were, the hardest were the ones from him when he was distraught, in tears, in pain or cold with nowhere to go, begging to come home, "Just one more time". Absolutely heartbreaking stuff.
Just to give you an idea, here's a brief example of what used to be"A week in the life" at our household. Mind you this is one week out of years, and as time went on the events became more traumatic, including death.
Monday - Son's friend showed up today to tell me son had stayed with him last night and he's now missing money from his drawer. He's upset because it's birthday money from his dad. He also informs me that he believes son has been stealing money from everyone at my relative's house where he's been staying. Says if he finds son, he's going to hurt him.
Tuesday - Came home today to son's friend's car in driveway. Know this can't be good news. Hands me my relative's checkbook which he obtained by jacking son up against the wall and searching him. I told him I'd rather he not share more details. I now have to call relatives and let them know.
Wednesday - Son informs me that he is no longer just snorting heroin and shows me track marks on his arms. My son who is petrified of needles, is now shooting heroin.
Thursday - Six kids showed up today looking for son. Say he stole an ounce of pot from one of them and are here to teach him a lesson. Son goes out to "talk" to them and as I stand with phone in hand, ready to call police, big brother and friends go to son's rescue and son is able to talk his way out of it.
Friday - Son informs me that his friend who is pregnant and also a heroin addict may be carrying his child (thank GOD this proved to be false).
Saturday - Friend showed up today saying son cashed bad check using his mother's grocery store card which he had stolen and now mother is being held accountable for amount cashed. Friend's mother calls me and says she now doesn't have enough money for bills - we reimburse her.
Sunday - 7:00 a.m. doorbell rings. Drug dealer says son owes him money. I slam door in his face after telling him never to set foot on our property again or police will be called.
The fear we lived with during those years was paralyzing. I think every decision I made in regards to him was fear based. It was fear that allowed him to live in our house for as long as he did, regardless of the fact that the chaos was killing the rest of us. It was fear that enabled his addiction for so long and allowed me to choose him over the well being of his two brothers, my husband and myself, time after time, after time. It was fear that drove to the emergency rooms, the police stations, the court houses, the detox facilities and rehabs at all hours of the night in an attempt to "save" him because somehow I knew THIS time would be different. It was fear that was driving a wedge between my husband and I, a wedge I wasn't sure we'd be able to find our way out of at times. It was fear that started causing the numerous physical ailments that were showing up in my body and finally it was fear that caused the depression that enabled me to do only the bare minimum necessary to survive day in and day out. It was that depression that finally caused me, out of desperation, to walk into my first Families Anonymous meeting, which was ultimately my saving grace. Those meetings (and there were years worth) were responsible for teaching me how to do it differently.
Yes, it was fear that fueled all of these things. Fear...and love. Thank God this is no longer our lives. Thank God this is no longer HIS life. I know enough about addiction to know it could be again at the drop of a hat so for today, I am thankful.
Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I don't pretend to compare what we've experienced to what a soldier experiences when he comes home from war, but it is a strong reminder to me when that phone rings late at night, that my heart has done battle it won't soon forget.
xo,
Carrie
Monday, January 25, 2010
Creativity
It feels really good to be motivated to write again. Where does motivation come from or where does it go when it leaves? For me when it leaves, I suppose it goes into the mounds of dust on the furniture or the ever present dog hair dancing around the wooden floors or the never ending pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. It goes to the child with the 103 degree fever or when the fever goes, the boy with the newly found adolescent attitude! It goes to the husband whose love absolutely keeps me whole but whose energy can be so draining at times. Then there's all the thought and preparation needed to maintain a gluten free diet. Life for most of us is so busy, it could suck the motivation out of a windmill in the middle of a hurricaine! Oh...and how about the hormonal changes that accompany a woman in midlife (well, pssing midlife)? You know...the hormonal changes that turn you from a perfectly logical, calm, balanced woman into a crazed, illogical, screaming, crying mess and let's not forget this mess could heat Antartica in the middle of winter at any given moment!
The list could go on and on, but all of that is my life, and it's not going to change any time soon. So the question becomes how does one hold on to themselves and their creative energy through all of life's motivation killers? The way I see it is maybe, if we give ourselves the chance and just make the choice to try, we can take those very things that have the potential to suck us dry and turn them INTO our motivation. We can write about the dust on the furniture, or if you're an artist then maybe you could draw a beautiful picture in it and post it on the internet for the rest of us to marvel at!
I never thought that one of the saddest events of my life, losing my mother, would motivate my creativity but I can clearly see now that for me, writing is and always has been, a gateway to my healing. At the moments when we think our motivation is gone, it may just take one small act, like putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) to realize it's still there, just waiting for you to give it a chance to surface.
I just glanced over and noticed a beautiful red cardinal on my birdfeeder. I wonder what would happen to the bird if it lost it's motivation to fly. It would lose it's unique gift of having the broad perspective on life that can only be seen from the sky. It's perspective would be drastically reduced to only what can be seen in front of it. How sad.
Creativity takes the every day, mundane tasks and gives us the opportunity to make something more of them. It can take the hardest, darkest moments in our lives and turn them into something beautifully moving to share with others. Some of the most famous works of art were motivated by someone's pain. Some of the music that touches us so deeply was written from a place of suffering. Creativity gives us the ability to rise above life's most challenging times. Our motivation comes not in spite of them, but because of them.
Creativity gives us wings, and I'm grateful to have found mine again.
xo,
Carrie
The list could go on and on, but all of that is my life, and it's not going to change any time soon. So the question becomes how does one hold on to themselves and their creative energy through all of life's motivation killers? The way I see it is maybe, if we give ourselves the chance and just make the choice to try, we can take those very things that have the potential to suck us dry and turn them INTO our motivation. We can write about the dust on the furniture, or if you're an artist then maybe you could draw a beautiful picture in it and post it on the internet for the rest of us to marvel at!
I never thought that one of the saddest events of my life, losing my mother, would motivate my creativity but I can clearly see now that for me, writing is and always has been, a gateway to my healing. At the moments when we think our motivation is gone, it may just take one small act, like putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) to realize it's still there, just waiting for you to give it a chance to surface.
I just glanced over and noticed a beautiful red cardinal on my birdfeeder. I wonder what would happen to the bird if it lost it's motivation to fly. It would lose it's unique gift of having the broad perspective on life that can only be seen from the sky. It's perspective would be drastically reduced to only what can be seen in front of it. How sad.
Creativity takes the every day, mundane tasks and gives us the opportunity to make something more of them. It can take the hardest, darkest moments in our lives and turn them into something beautifully moving to share with others. Some of the most famous works of art were motivated by someone's pain. Some of the music that touches us so deeply was written from a place of suffering. Creativity gives us the ability to rise above life's most challenging times. Our motivation comes not in spite of them, but because of them.
Creativity gives us wings, and I'm grateful to have found mine again.
xo,
Carrie
Friday, January 22, 2010
Tomorrow
Dear Mom,
I'm writing to ask for your help with something. Tomorrow your girls are going over to help Dad pack up all of your things. I've found it comforting to poke around in your closet while visiting Dad. Putting on a pair of your slippers while we watch a movie together or wearing one of your sweaters to stay warm has felt good. Almost like you're still here with us. It will be hard to say goodbye to your things as it's another phase of saying goodbye to you. While I've found it comforting, I know it must be difficult for Dad to have to face your things day in and day out. A constant reminder to him that you're gone. I know that when you left, a big part of him went with you but I think you'd be proud of the manner in which he's carrying on. I know I am.
He's a trooper Mom, but then noone knows that better than you. He's been to the movie theater with me twice now. He expressed that he hadn't been to a movie in many, many years and now he's been to two in one month! I plan to get him back to another one soon. He hasn't burnt down the kitchen yet and is doing a good job of keeping himself fed, with a little help from us kids now and then. He's getting more adventurous in his food shopping. Last night he informed me that he'd tried a lowfat frozen lasagna dinner and that despite adding massive amounts of salt, it was still the most disgusting thing he'd ever eaten AND he was out $4.50! I'm making chicken tonight and will make sure he gets some leftovers. Oh...and get this! When I got into his car, the music was blasting and he had on the country station! I know you're shaking your head at that one. Hey, at least it wasn't right wing, conservative talk radio. I know how much you enjoyed listening to that.
We all miss you very much. I think every single one of your kids has experienced the same surreal moment in which we think, "Gee, I haven't talked to Mom lately, I need to call her", only to remember that's not possible. I know I haven't stopped talking to you and I'm confident neither have my siblings.
I'm anticipating that tomorrow will be tough, so I'm asking if you could please be with us, and when the time comes to sort through all of your belongings, please help us to recall happy memories as we come face to face with all of the things that you wore so beautifully. Let us find comfort in the very things that comforted you. Help us to know what would make your heart happy when finding a new home for the things that made it happy when you were here. Most especially please guide us with your love so that we can all work together and walk through this process as unified and understanding of eachother's feelings as we were your last week here on earth.
You and Dad taught us well Mom, and I know we'll get through this aspect of our goodbye, but if you could wrap us especially tight in your spirit tomorrow, it would be appreciated.
Thank you, I love you and I'll write again soon.
xo,
Carrie
I'm writing to ask for your help with something. Tomorrow your girls are going over to help Dad pack up all of your things. I've found it comforting to poke around in your closet while visiting Dad. Putting on a pair of your slippers while we watch a movie together or wearing one of your sweaters to stay warm has felt good. Almost like you're still here with us. It will be hard to say goodbye to your things as it's another phase of saying goodbye to you. While I've found it comforting, I know it must be difficult for Dad to have to face your things day in and day out. A constant reminder to him that you're gone. I know that when you left, a big part of him went with you but I think you'd be proud of the manner in which he's carrying on. I know I am.
He's a trooper Mom, but then noone knows that better than you. He's been to the movie theater with me twice now. He expressed that he hadn't been to a movie in many, many years and now he's been to two in one month! I plan to get him back to another one soon. He hasn't burnt down the kitchen yet and is doing a good job of keeping himself fed, with a little help from us kids now and then. He's getting more adventurous in his food shopping. Last night he informed me that he'd tried a lowfat frozen lasagna dinner and that despite adding massive amounts of salt, it was still the most disgusting thing he'd ever eaten AND he was out $4.50! I'm making chicken tonight and will make sure he gets some leftovers. Oh...and get this! When I got into his car, the music was blasting and he had on the country station! I know you're shaking your head at that one. Hey, at least it wasn't right wing, conservative talk radio. I know how much you enjoyed listening to that.
We all miss you very much. I think every single one of your kids has experienced the same surreal moment in which we think, "Gee, I haven't talked to Mom lately, I need to call her", only to remember that's not possible. I know I haven't stopped talking to you and I'm confident neither have my siblings.
I'm anticipating that tomorrow will be tough, so I'm asking if you could please be with us, and when the time comes to sort through all of your belongings, please help us to recall happy memories as we come face to face with all of the things that you wore so beautifully. Let us find comfort in the very things that comforted you. Help us to know what would make your heart happy when finding a new home for the things that made it happy when you were here. Most especially please guide us with your love so that we can all work together and walk through this process as unified and understanding of eachother's feelings as we were your last week here on earth.
You and Dad taught us well Mom, and I know we'll get through this aspect of our goodbye, but if you could wrap us especially tight in your spirit tomorrow, it would be appreciated.
Thank you, I love you and I'll write again soon.
xo,
Carrie
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Cycles
Having the teenage years thrust upon us again after having lived them twice already has me thinking about the cyclical nature of life. The seasons, and how we feel at the beginning of a new one should be a really good reminder to us of the cycles of life. It's hard to remember when we're going through difficult times that they won't remain, but we should. I guess that's why when everything feels right and we're experiencing what we perceive as real happiness we should bask in the glory of it, because it too, is part of the cycle. The ever changing cycle of life.
Something I wrote as I was going through the teenage cycle with my older sons will serve as a reminder to me as I walk through them with my youngest -
THIS WALK
Little one woke me up three times again last night
No apparent reason, he blames it on his fright
Assures me that he's going to be a grown up soon
Hasn't yet learned how to find comfort in the light of the moon
Husband's sleeping soundly as I watch the clock
Waiting with these stomach pains to hear a knock
Teenager forgot to call to say he won't be home
It's always at this hour that I feel most alone
Feeling rather stressed today they say it's PMS
I was thinking sleep deprived, all in my head I guess
Way too much to do today to give into my thoughts
They say best to be a rolling stone so as not to gather moss
Promised myself today's the day I'll go back on a diet
That new one all the stars are doing, I'm definitely going to try it
I know if I could just lose weight I'd halt this desire to scream
So sure my happiness lies within this pair of tight blue jeans
And I get up every morning to continue on this walk
Wonder if this is how Jesus felt before they nailed him to the cross
Sometimes it seems so hopeless yet I hold onto my faith
Maybe if I just believe, my world could be a brighter place
There's been another accident, this one the worst by far
Flipped the truck on the highway, walked away with just a scar
First born's angels have been working overtime, three strikes and still no out
Guess fate's decided to give him a chance to stay and learn what life's about
Teenage'rs school is on the phone, looks like our options have ended
Damn it! I thought this would all go away as long as I pretended
That's okay, the mall's having a sale, think I'll shop my blues away
What's one more credit card bill when you owe them your life anyway?
Mailman's running late today, not sure what I'm waiting for
Perhaps a million dollar sweepstakes check or just sign of life outside this door
Amazing a house filled with so much noise can have such an empty feel
That's okay, learned long ago how to fill emptiness with another meal
Another bombing in the news today, my prayers don't seem to be working
This newsman knows how to find that place where all my fears are lurking
I'm shutting this damn TV off, don't want to hear about all things wrong
Think I'll open a window to hear the bird and breathe to the rythym of his song
But I get up every morning and continue on this walk
This faith thing must be working, not feeling quite so distraught
The wheels seem to keep turning and life keeps moving on
Maybe if I just believe in myself, I can turn my world around
Little one's laying asleep tonight, teenager's home in his bed
Been more than a year with no accidents, angels are getting a rest
Jeans are fitting more comfortably now, can wear them without turning blue
And you know, they neglected to tell me, that moss has a beautiful green hue
No millions in my mailbox yet, just as valuable, a note from a friend
Despite what the media would have me believe, no happiness in the latest trend
The full moon still keeps rising to comfort all of our pains
And I'm learning to hear the song of the bird, especially when it rains
I've also found that emptiness can be where divine secrets are kept
Once you've found light in the darkness, there's nothing you can't accept
Husband and I are still in love despite all our ups and downs
I have faith that it will stay that way as life's cycles go round and round
So with a smile upon my face I'll put one foot in front of the other
Keeping focused on the joy that comes from walking this walk with eachother
Think I'm going to live my life staying present in the moment
Being careful to view my challenges as teachers instead of opponents
Yes, I'll get up every morning and be thankful for this walk
Amazing how much the heart can learn when the mind listens instead of talks
As long as these feet of mine can move I'll go forward one step at a time
Being grateful for every breath I take in this precious life of mine
xo,
Carrie
Something I wrote as I was going through the teenage cycle with my older sons will serve as a reminder to me as I walk through them with my youngest -
THIS WALK
Little one woke me up three times again last night
No apparent reason, he blames it on his fright
Assures me that he's going to be a grown up soon
Hasn't yet learned how to find comfort in the light of the moon
Husband's sleeping soundly as I watch the clock
Waiting with these stomach pains to hear a knock
Teenager forgot to call to say he won't be home
It's always at this hour that I feel most alone
Feeling rather stressed today they say it's PMS
I was thinking sleep deprived, all in my head I guess
Way too much to do today to give into my thoughts
They say best to be a rolling stone so as not to gather moss
Promised myself today's the day I'll go back on a diet
That new one all the stars are doing, I'm definitely going to try it
I know if I could just lose weight I'd halt this desire to scream
So sure my happiness lies within this pair of tight blue jeans
And I get up every morning to continue on this walk
Wonder if this is how Jesus felt before they nailed him to the cross
Sometimes it seems so hopeless yet I hold onto my faith
Maybe if I just believe, my world could be a brighter place
There's been another accident, this one the worst by far
Flipped the truck on the highway, walked away with just a scar
First born's angels have been working overtime, three strikes and still no out
Guess fate's decided to give him a chance to stay and learn what life's about
Teenage'rs school is on the phone, looks like our options have ended
Damn it! I thought this would all go away as long as I pretended
That's okay, the mall's having a sale, think I'll shop my blues away
What's one more credit card bill when you owe them your life anyway?
Mailman's running late today, not sure what I'm waiting for
Perhaps a million dollar sweepstakes check or just sign of life outside this door
Amazing a house filled with so much noise can have such an empty feel
That's okay, learned long ago how to fill emptiness with another meal
Another bombing in the news today, my prayers don't seem to be working
This newsman knows how to find that place where all my fears are lurking
I'm shutting this damn TV off, don't want to hear about all things wrong
Think I'll open a window to hear the bird and breathe to the rythym of his song
But I get up every morning and continue on this walk
This faith thing must be working, not feeling quite so distraught
The wheels seem to keep turning and life keeps moving on
Maybe if I just believe in myself, I can turn my world around
Little one's laying asleep tonight, teenager's home in his bed
Been more than a year with no accidents, angels are getting a rest
Jeans are fitting more comfortably now, can wear them without turning blue
And you know, they neglected to tell me, that moss has a beautiful green hue
No millions in my mailbox yet, just as valuable, a note from a friend
Despite what the media would have me believe, no happiness in the latest trend
The full moon still keeps rising to comfort all of our pains
And I'm learning to hear the song of the bird, especially when it rains
I've also found that emptiness can be where divine secrets are kept
Once you've found light in the darkness, there's nothing you can't accept
Husband and I are still in love despite all our ups and downs
I have faith that it will stay that way as life's cycles go round and round
So with a smile upon my face I'll put one foot in front of the other
Keeping focused on the joy that comes from walking this walk with eachother
Think I'm going to live my life staying present in the moment
Being careful to view my challenges as teachers instead of opponents
Yes, I'll get up every morning and be thankful for this walk
Amazing how much the heart can learn when the mind listens instead of talks
As long as these feet of mine can move I'll go forward one step at a time
Being grateful for every breath I take in this precious life of mine
xo,
Carrie
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
News
After watching the news clips last night of the horror and devastation people are having to endure in Haiti I felt ashamed of my post yesterday. How dare I? These people have lost their families, their friends, their homes, all of their belongings, jobs, food, water and more and I am worried about the state of my body? That is the epitome of self-centeredness. That is the ego at it's finest. Seeing the woman in her 60's being pulled from the rubble after a week of being trapped and hearing her come out singing with joy just to be alive left me wanting to run to my computer and beg for your forgiveness. Shame on me!
Then I got an email from someone this morning who said the post made them laugh when they read it and I changed my mind. Please know that it's not that I care more about the trivial things than I do about these heart wrenching world events. I'm crying the tears and making the donations right along with the rest of the world. It's more about needing a diversion when you're faced with such catastrophic events. A place where we can go to forget, even just for a moment, how fragile life is or how little control we have over our destiny. If talking about my rearend can help us to forget how life can change in the blink of an eye then so be it.
I won't apologize but I will say please let these world events be a reminder to all of us to keep compassion in our hearts, to do our part as best we can and give thanks every day.
xo,
Carrie
Then I got an email from someone this morning who said the post made them laugh when they read it and I changed my mind. Please know that it's not that I care more about the trivial things than I do about these heart wrenching world events. I'm crying the tears and making the donations right along with the rest of the world. It's more about needing a diversion when you're faced with such catastrophic events. A place where we can go to forget, even just for a moment, how fragile life is or how little control we have over our destiny. If talking about my rearend can help us to forget how life can change in the blink of an eye then so be it.
I won't apologize but I will say please let these world events be a reminder to all of us to keep compassion in our hearts, to do our part as best we can and give thanks every day.
xo,
Carrie
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Flab!
You know that commercial with the elderly woman that falls and yells out, "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!"? Well today I'm yelling, "Help! My rearend has fallen and it won't get up!".
I just got back from a walk and I can't tell you how disgusted I am with myself at how out of shape I feel. Just when I think I've gotten this battle under control, I'm humbled by a fallen rearend, or a stomach that turns into three when I sit down, or flaps so long hanging under my arms that I may never have to board another airplane, all I'll have to do is plot my course and wave!
I dropped about thirty pounds a few years ago and as much as I'd like to say it's been willpower, I'm sure it's the food sensitivities I've developed that helps to keep the scale from varying more than five pounds or so. The exercise thing however just kills me! How can the pants that were loose last week not fit this week? Is this really possible? How can the same body that takes months and months of working out to obtain turn into a mass of flab after only a few short weeks? How I ask you?!
I don't know that I'll ever learn the secret of staying motivated enough to prevent this cycle from happening. I guess it's just one of those things in my life that I have to accept, not allow myself to linger in the grasp of my discouragement, take Nike's advice and JUST DO IT!
CRAP...I'm off to the gym.
xo,
Carrie
I just got back from a walk and I can't tell you how disgusted I am with myself at how out of shape I feel. Just when I think I've gotten this battle under control, I'm humbled by a fallen rearend, or a stomach that turns into three when I sit down, or flaps so long hanging under my arms that I may never have to board another airplane, all I'll have to do is plot my course and wave!
I dropped about thirty pounds a few years ago and as much as I'd like to say it's been willpower, I'm sure it's the food sensitivities I've developed that helps to keep the scale from varying more than five pounds or so. The exercise thing however just kills me! How can the pants that were loose last week not fit this week? Is this really possible? How can the same body that takes months and months of working out to obtain turn into a mass of flab after only a few short weeks? How I ask you?!
I don't know that I'll ever learn the secret of staying motivated enough to prevent this cycle from happening. I guess it's just one of those things in my life that I have to accept, not allow myself to linger in the grasp of my discouragement, take Nike's advice and JUST DO IT!
CRAP...I'm off to the gym.
xo,
Carrie
Monday, January 18, 2010
Dreams
Last night I had a dream about my mom. She had called me on the phone and we were chatting. I don't remember much of our conversation but I do remember asking her if she could breathe better where she was. Mostly I remember the sound of her voice, it was strong and joyful. I miss hearing her voice.
The dreams of her are starting to come more often. There are nights that I just see her face, staring at me and smiling. Those are the nights that I feel like she's come to visit me because there's no sadness when I awake. On the contrary, I wake up feeling wrapped in her love.
I've had "dreams" like this of other loved ones after they've passed. I remember vividly one night many years ago when my Uncle came to me. He looked so handsome in his three piece suit. He had his glasses on and looked so vibrantly happy. He just stared at me smiling and when I woke up I felt so strongly that he had just been there, that I had to call my Aunt and tell her. She teared up and thanked me over and over again for sharing this with her. I found out three days later that my Uncle's sister had died and his coming made even more sense; he had come to help her cross over.
There is a medium by the name of Suzanne Northrop who I've heard on the radio several times and went to go see twice in person. Her gift of being able to receive messages from people who've passed on and give them to the people who the messages are intended for is beyond amazing. Once I witnessed her do this in person, any doubt I may have had disappeared.
When I saw her in person, she started the seminar with a lecture about her gift. When it started, how it began, her belief system and the ramifications, both positive and negative, of having this gift. I recall her saying that when she was young, her parents thought she was crazy, as did the doctor they had enlisted to evaluate her. The doctor thought it best that she receive shock treatment therapy. Thankfully, she didn't elaborate on the horrors of this experience, she only smiled and said, "Little did they know that this would only accomplish the opposite of what they'd hoped for. This treatment helped to open up the channels even wider than they were to begin with and the messages started flooding in."
After she was done with the lecture she asked the audience if they'd like her to attempt some readings. The answer was a resounding, "YES!" as that's I'm sure what most people came for. As she began, it was evident how her energy changed. She started pacing in an almost frenzied state back and forth, round and round the room trying to find the area in which she was meant to be. She'd then stop, point to a handful of people and her questions would come out equally as quick as she tried to narrow down exactly who the message was intended for. Suddenly a hand would go up and say, "That's me, that's meant for me." The reactions of the people receiving the messages were even more powerful to watch than Suzanne's delivery. While the intensity varied, the authenticity in the reaction never did.
All were truly mesmerizing to watch but there is one that I will never forget. There was a young male there, maybe eighteen to twenty years old sitting next to his Mom and you could tell he didn't seem all that thrilled, perhaps even a bit uncomfortable to be there. Once again Suzanne went into this frenzied state when she got close to the area he was sitting in. She stopped dead in her tracks, stared him in the face and said, "Who's the young man sitting next to you holding his head?" Now mind you the only person sitting next to him was his mom. The young man looked up at her appearing dumbfounded. Once again she spoke up, "He's holding his head and I'm getting the feeling that there was extreme trauma to the area he's holding." The tears immediately started streaming down this boy's face as well as his mothers." He wants you to know that he's okay, he's not in pain and he's still with you. Do you understand this?"
The young man was so distraught he couldn't speak, he just nodded his head yes. Finally the mother spoke up and said, "His best friend since childhood committed suicide a few months ago. He shot himself in the head." Suzanne looked at him and said very intently, "He wants you to know that it's not your fault and there's nothing you could have done to stop him. He's where he wants to be and he's happy." The tears were still flowing as he thanked her. She smiled and said, "You're very welcome. You are why I do what I do for a living." I'm sure some of you are skeptics when it comes to this kind of stuff and wouldn't consider this ability to be a gift. In my opinion what she gave to those people on that day, especially that young man, was a life altering gift.
I'll leave you with a quote from Suzanne - "What is true, is that I no longer question what death is or is not, rather, I deal with all of the ramifications of the fact that we do not die."
Thanks for the visit last night Mom. Keep them coming.
xo,
Carrie
The dreams of her are starting to come more often. There are nights that I just see her face, staring at me and smiling. Those are the nights that I feel like she's come to visit me because there's no sadness when I awake. On the contrary, I wake up feeling wrapped in her love.
I've had "dreams" like this of other loved ones after they've passed. I remember vividly one night many years ago when my Uncle came to me. He looked so handsome in his three piece suit. He had his glasses on and looked so vibrantly happy. He just stared at me smiling and when I woke up I felt so strongly that he had just been there, that I had to call my Aunt and tell her. She teared up and thanked me over and over again for sharing this with her. I found out three days later that my Uncle's sister had died and his coming made even more sense; he had come to help her cross over.
There is a medium by the name of Suzanne Northrop who I've heard on the radio several times and went to go see twice in person. Her gift of being able to receive messages from people who've passed on and give them to the people who the messages are intended for is beyond amazing. Once I witnessed her do this in person, any doubt I may have had disappeared.
When I saw her in person, she started the seminar with a lecture about her gift. When it started, how it began, her belief system and the ramifications, both positive and negative, of having this gift. I recall her saying that when she was young, her parents thought she was crazy, as did the doctor they had enlisted to evaluate her. The doctor thought it best that she receive shock treatment therapy. Thankfully, she didn't elaborate on the horrors of this experience, she only smiled and said, "Little did they know that this would only accomplish the opposite of what they'd hoped for. This treatment helped to open up the channels even wider than they were to begin with and the messages started flooding in."
After she was done with the lecture she asked the audience if they'd like her to attempt some readings. The answer was a resounding, "YES!" as that's I'm sure what most people came for. As she began, it was evident how her energy changed. She started pacing in an almost frenzied state back and forth, round and round the room trying to find the area in which she was meant to be. She'd then stop, point to a handful of people and her questions would come out equally as quick as she tried to narrow down exactly who the message was intended for. Suddenly a hand would go up and say, "That's me, that's meant for me." The reactions of the people receiving the messages were even more powerful to watch than Suzanne's delivery. While the intensity varied, the authenticity in the reaction never did.
All were truly mesmerizing to watch but there is one that I will never forget. There was a young male there, maybe eighteen to twenty years old sitting next to his Mom and you could tell he didn't seem all that thrilled, perhaps even a bit uncomfortable to be there. Once again Suzanne went into this frenzied state when she got close to the area he was sitting in. She stopped dead in her tracks, stared him in the face and said, "Who's the young man sitting next to you holding his head?" Now mind you the only person sitting next to him was his mom. The young man looked up at her appearing dumbfounded. Once again she spoke up, "He's holding his head and I'm getting the feeling that there was extreme trauma to the area he's holding." The tears immediately started streaming down this boy's face as well as his mothers." He wants you to know that he's okay, he's not in pain and he's still with you. Do you understand this?"
The young man was so distraught he couldn't speak, he just nodded his head yes. Finally the mother spoke up and said, "His best friend since childhood committed suicide a few months ago. He shot himself in the head." Suzanne looked at him and said very intently, "He wants you to know that it's not your fault and there's nothing you could have done to stop him. He's where he wants to be and he's happy." The tears were still flowing as he thanked her. She smiled and said, "You're very welcome. You are why I do what I do for a living." I'm sure some of you are skeptics when it comes to this kind of stuff and wouldn't consider this ability to be a gift. In my opinion what she gave to those people on that day, especially that young man, was a life altering gift.
I'll leave you with a quote from Suzanne - "What is true, is that I no longer question what death is or is not, rather, I deal with all of the ramifications of the fact that we do not die."
Thanks for the visit last night Mom. Keep them coming.
xo,
Carrie
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Options
As I stated a few days ago, I am thoroughly enjoying writing this blog but what I am finding is that on the weekends it's becoming difficult to make the time to devote to it. I don't want to write just anything because I vowed to not miss a day and I don't want to cross that fine line between dedication and obsession so I have decided to give myself the option of taking the weekends off. That doesn't mean I will every weekend and I am still vowing to write for 365 days, just not in a row!
It's an absolutely beautiful day outside and I am off to the beach for a change of scenery and some fun with my brother and sister-in-law. Please don't forget me by Monday morning!
xo,
Carrie
It's an absolutely beautiful day outside and I am off to the beach for a change of scenery and some fun with my brother and sister-in-law. Please don't forget me by Monday morning!
xo,
Carrie
Friday, January 15, 2010
Friends
I got a call last night from a friend who's just been slapped in the face by life...hard. You know, one of those slaps that catches you completely off guard and leaves you feeling shell shocked, dumbfounded or any of those other words that describe the "What the hell just happened?" feeling. I'm sure you're familiar with it because it happens to all of us from time to time. I got in my car and headed over to her house. We drank tea (well, I drank tea, she was in need of something stronger!) and talked. Her tears flowed, we hugged and talked some more. By the time I left I could see she was a bit lighter than when I arrived.
These are the times that we realize how vital friendships are in our lives. How many times have you been faced with something that in hindsight you know you couldn't have gotten through without your friends?
A few of those times come to mind for me. The first being when I found out I was pregnant with my oldest son. I was twenty one years old and ill prepared for this news. My husband (then boyfriend) and I had been dating off and on for about five years and had a bit of a tumultuous relationship. We hadn't really yet entertained the idea of living together let alone having a child together. It was the love and support of friends and family that helped us to both realize that this was a blessing, not a curse. And what a blessing indeed! I can't begin to tell you the light that this child has been in our lives. I tear up as I think about how much I love him.
Another time that comes to mind is when I found out my middle son was shooting heroin. This is a child who had been known to literally run out of the doctor's office when it came time to get a shot. "He'd announce, "Nope! I'm not doing it", and off he'd go. He once had a fish hook stuck in his finger and we were at the walk in medical facility for three hours because he refused to let them inject him with novicaine. They finally had to have a nurse stand there and continually spray his finger with a topical numbing solution as the doctor removed the hook. This same boy was willingly taking a needle filled with heroin and injecting it into his arm. That was the moment when I realized the depth of his addiction. That was quite a slap indeed.
And of course, most recently the slap came in the form of my sister calling from the hospital at 3:00 a.m. and hearing her say, "There's been a complication with Mom's surgery. I think you should come". You know the rest of the story.
Sometimes it comes in the form of a hug, or a phone call to "check in". Sometimes it's in the form of food (my friends cooked three quarters of the food for my Moms post funeral gathering at my house), or a shared cup of tea,or glass of wine. Sometimes it's in the form of a thoughtful note or greeting card or maybe a shared tear,or several. Sometimes it comes in the form of a prayer. It comes in all different forms but it is without a doubt the love and support of our friends that helps us to get through those times that we just can't bear to face alone.
xo,
Carrie
These are the times that we realize how vital friendships are in our lives. How many times have you been faced with something that in hindsight you know you couldn't have gotten through without your friends?
A few of those times come to mind for me. The first being when I found out I was pregnant with my oldest son. I was twenty one years old and ill prepared for this news. My husband (then boyfriend) and I had been dating off and on for about five years and had a bit of a tumultuous relationship. We hadn't really yet entertained the idea of living together let alone having a child together. It was the love and support of friends and family that helped us to both realize that this was a blessing, not a curse. And what a blessing indeed! I can't begin to tell you the light that this child has been in our lives. I tear up as I think about how much I love him.
Another time that comes to mind is when I found out my middle son was shooting heroin. This is a child who had been known to literally run out of the doctor's office when it came time to get a shot. "He'd announce, "Nope! I'm not doing it", and off he'd go. He once had a fish hook stuck in his finger and we were at the walk in medical facility for three hours because he refused to let them inject him with novicaine. They finally had to have a nurse stand there and continually spray his finger with a topical numbing solution as the doctor removed the hook. This same boy was willingly taking a needle filled with heroin and injecting it into his arm. That was the moment when I realized the depth of his addiction. That was quite a slap indeed.
And of course, most recently the slap came in the form of my sister calling from the hospital at 3:00 a.m. and hearing her say, "There's been a complication with Mom's surgery. I think you should come". You know the rest of the story.
Sometimes it comes in the form of a hug, or a phone call to "check in". Sometimes it's in the form of food (my friends cooked three quarters of the food for my Moms post funeral gathering at my house), or a shared cup of tea,or glass of wine. Sometimes it's in the form of a thoughtful note or greeting card or maybe a shared tear,or several. Sometimes it comes in the form of a prayer. It comes in all different forms but it is without a doubt the love and support of our friends that helps us to get through those times that we just can't bear to face alone.
xo,
Carrie
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Writing
My husband asked me last night, "So, have you run out of things to write about on your blog yet?" I answered, "I certainly hope not because I've vowed to make at least 100 entries!" It does seem a little overwhelming sometimes when I think about it. What the heck will I have to say that will interest you? Maybe it doesn't! Maybe you have no interest at all in what I'm saying and this is all just a big ego trip for me. That's okay, it feels good.
Writing is just putting your thoughts down on paper and most days people don't run out of thoughts. The one downside I'm finding, is now I need to pay much closer attention to my thoughts, and you know they're coming at all hours of the night. I'm always wondering if the thought that comes is worth writing about which makes the thought linger much longer. Oh well, who needs sleep anyway?
I suppose I should have known that I'd grow up to be a writer because from what I've been told I used to LOVE to talk as a little girl. I remember times that I'd have to be kept at the table to finish my meals long after the others had left the kitchen because as long as there was one person left to chat with, my plate would stay full and my mouth would keep moving. I guess I had alot of thoughts I wanted to express from an early age on.
Ever since I learned to write, I've preferred to express myself through the written word rather than the spoken one. It gives you the opportunity to feel heard and to really think about what you want to say and how you want to say it before it slips out. Of course the exception to this rule is emailing - BE CAREFUL when responding to emails that rub you the wrong way, you may regret being quick fingered.
Ask my poor husband about my preference to the written word. I can't tell you how many times over the years when we'd get upset with eachother he'd find a letter from me waiting on the kitchen table the following morning. I finally stopped this when I realized that it had gotten to the point that if I wanted to give him a nice card or hand written note for no particular reason he'd break into a cold sweat and say, "What did I do now?"!
Many people would never dream of putting their thoughts out there for people to read. How grateful I am to the people who have. My feeling is, as I stated in an earlier entry, that we're all in this together. If we can learn from eachother, or feel validated somehow, or see ourselves in another person's thoughts and thus, not feel so alone on this journey, I say WRITE ON! And that's exactly what I'm going to do.
xo,
Carrie
Writing is just putting your thoughts down on paper and most days people don't run out of thoughts. The one downside I'm finding, is now I need to pay much closer attention to my thoughts, and you know they're coming at all hours of the night. I'm always wondering if the thought that comes is worth writing about which makes the thought linger much longer. Oh well, who needs sleep anyway?
I suppose I should have known that I'd grow up to be a writer because from what I've been told I used to LOVE to talk as a little girl. I remember times that I'd have to be kept at the table to finish my meals long after the others had left the kitchen because as long as there was one person left to chat with, my plate would stay full and my mouth would keep moving. I guess I had alot of thoughts I wanted to express from an early age on.
Ever since I learned to write, I've preferred to express myself through the written word rather than the spoken one. It gives you the opportunity to feel heard and to really think about what you want to say and how you want to say it before it slips out. Of course the exception to this rule is emailing - BE CAREFUL when responding to emails that rub you the wrong way, you may regret being quick fingered.
Ask my poor husband about my preference to the written word. I can't tell you how many times over the years when we'd get upset with eachother he'd find a letter from me waiting on the kitchen table the following morning. I finally stopped this when I realized that it had gotten to the point that if I wanted to give him a nice card or hand written note for no particular reason he'd break into a cold sweat and say, "What did I do now?"!
Many people would never dream of putting their thoughts out there for people to read. How grateful I am to the people who have. My feeling is, as I stated in an earlier entry, that we're all in this together. If we can learn from eachother, or feel validated somehow, or see ourselves in another person's thoughts and thus, not feel so alone on this journey, I say WRITE ON! And that's exactly what I'm going to do.
xo,
Carrie
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Change
How does that saying go, "The one thing you can count on in life is change."? Just as things are always changing around us every day, change is also continually happening within us, whether we realize it or not. I don't care for sayings like, "People don't change." or "Once a cheater, always a cheater." or "You can't teach an old dog new tricks.". As long as we're breathing, we're changing. There's always the potential to adopt new habits, new beliefs, new knowledge, new anything.
I have a very close friend that I've hung out with for going on thirty eight years now. Not that long ago she was at my house, along with a few other people, helping to celebrate my husband's birthday. When it came time for cake we sang, he blew out the candles and I pulled some dessert plates out of the kitchen cabinet. My friend looked at me and said, "Why don't you just use paper plates?" to which I answered, "I don't have any. I don't buy them too often because they're not good for the environment." You would have thought I had three heads the way she looked at me and she said, "What in the hell has happened to you?"
I know it's not just the paper plates she's referring to, I've undergone alot of changes over the past few years. You just go along living your life, making choices, dealing with the ebb and flow and BAM, it hits you one morning over breakfast how much you've changed.
I had a moment like that this morning as I was eating an omelet which consisted of one egg, two egg whites, red pepper, spinach and romano cheese while using fresh juice from my juicer made from apples, carrots, celery, beets, spinach and ginger to swallow the supplements obtained from my naturopath (who I LOVE). Upon finishing breakfast I took some Oscillococcinum pellets bought from a health food store and at the same time mixed two droppers full of liquid echinacea and Goldenseal in a little water and drank it down to help me with this cold I've been fighting (side note - it works!).
My friend and I used to have so much fun going out together dancing and drinking until the wee hours of the morning. I think I've had maybe two glasses of wine in the past six months and am usually in bed by 9:00 p.m.. We used to love to go out to eat together and we especially loved sharing good hangover food such as potato chips and onion dip (none of this already made stuff, it has to be dry onion soup mix and sour cream). Or she makes the best nachos smothered with taco meat, cheese, black olives and jalapenos (of course with sour cream and salsa on the side), or a nice baked potato loaded with chili, cheese and sour cream - I'm sure you've deduced from the previous paragraph that these foods are no longer a staple in my diet. The hangover food would always be accompanied by massive amounts of ibuprofin which I don't touch any more unless I absolutely need to. Oh the hours we'd spend talking and laughing at someone else's expense. Thank God life has taught me to STOP this behavior!
Despite my position on paper plates, I'm far from what I would consider "green". A good example of this is when my sister and I were in the store shopping for my Mom's post funeral gathering at my house, I went to grab some plastic lined styrofoam "throw away" coffee cups off the shelf and my sister said something like, "Carrie! The earth could explode and those cups would still be here." I'm trying to be more conscious of my choices when it comes to being green as I'd like my youngest to have a better example in that department. This will be his earth long after I'm gone.
No wonder my friend doesn't recognize me! I barely recognize myself. Thankfully she still loves me. No, I'm not the same Carrie I've been in the past, and I'm willing to bet you're not the same you either.
Some change can be downright awful, like the change that's accompanied by trauma or loss. Some change can fill you with elation. Some change is really difficult and some is so easy it's barely noticeable. Some comes quick and some comes painfully slow. Some change comes from a conscious effort and some happens subconsciously.
Call it change, call it growth, call it maturing, call it evolving, call it what you'd like but good or bad, welcomed or not, as long as we're breathing, we all know it's on the horizon. The one thing you can count on in life is change. But that's okay because as another saying goes, "We're all in this together".
xo,
Carrie
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The Gift
Now that the craziness of the holidays is behind us I've been thinking about how much energy we put into trying to find the right gift for everyone on our list and how much stress that brings to the season. Hopefully you all were happy with what you gave and it felt good to give it. Every year I say I'm not going to put myself through that and try to remind myself of what the true gifts in life are, but I always get sucked into the mania, so this is for you incase I forget to tell you next December...
If I could give you a gift, it would be the gift of peace. Inner peace. The kind that comes from sitting alone in silence and watching the sunrise over the ocean, bringing with it hope for the new day.
If I could give you a gift, it would be the gift of time. Time enough to continue to grow and time to come into the understanding that life is precious and there is so much more here for us than meets the eye.
If I could give you a gift, it would be the gift of solitude. The ability to be alone with yourself and really enjoy the way it feels. The gift of knowing and understanding what makes you tick and truly appreciating the person you are.
If I could give you a gift it would be the gift of positivity. The desire to find the good in all things and the ability to let go of the bad.
If I could give you a gift, I'd give you the gift of faith. All things are born through faith. Faith is the belief that all things are possible and faith in yourself gives you the power to make your life all that you'd like it to be.
If I could give you a gift, it would be the gift of believing. Knowing without a doubt that you have the strength and the light inside of you to possess all of these gifts and more. All you need to do is seek.
If my love can help to foster any of these things in you then it's yours. The gift of love I can always give.
The gift of love we can always give.
xo,
Carrie
If I could give you a gift, it would be the gift of peace. Inner peace. The kind that comes from sitting alone in silence and watching the sunrise over the ocean, bringing with it hope for the new day.
If I could give you a gift, it would be the gift of time. Time enough to continue to grow and time to come into the understanding that life is precious and there is so much more here for us than meets the eye.
If I could give you a gift, it would be the gift of solitude. The ability to be alone with yourself and really enjoy the way it feels. The gift of knowing and understanding what makes you tick and truly appreciating the person you are.
If I could give you a gift it would be the gift of positivity. The desire to find the good in all things and the ability to let go of the bad.
If I could give you a gift, I'd give you the gift of faith. All things are born through faith. Faith is the belief that all things are possible and faith in yourself gives you the power to make your life all that you'd like it to be.
If I could give you a gift, it would be the gift of believing. Knowing without a doubt that you have the strength and the light inside of you to possess all of these gifts and more. All you need to do is seek.
If my love can help to foster any of these things in you then it's yours. The gift of love I can always give.
The gift of love we can always give.
xo,
Carrie
Monday, January 11, 2010
Sick (cont'd.)
Yesterday I went to the store to buy tissues as my need to blow my nose every one to two minutes had used up all but the last few in the house. I found the aisle where the tissues were kept and to my horror I could not find one box of the really soft kind on the shelf. Darn it! You don't realize what a difference the lotion in those makes until you have a cold (my Mom taught me however NEVER to clean your eyeglasses with this type as they'll leave streaks on the lenses - but I digress). So I begrudgingly put some of the not so soft tissues in my cart.
As I rounded the corner to go pay, there were two women waiting in line speaking Spanish to eachother, and I just happened to glance into their cart. There sat seven, I repeat SEVEN boxes of the good kind of tissues. Seven JUMBO boxes. Should I say something? Does someone really have a right to buy all of the good tissues off the shelf at one time? What about the rest of us with colds? That's it! I don't care if I am a Libra, I'm saying something!
Just then the lady behind the counter called out, "Next" and off they went. Darn it again! I moved my cart up closer behind them as they paid and when they turned to go, one lady caught me eyeing her and smiled at me. Of course I smiled back, but as they made their way out the door I found myself mumbling under my breath, "Bitch!". You know you don't feel good when that happens.
You also know you don't feel good when you're sitting at your son's basketall game smearing chapstick all over your nose and not caring how many people may be looking at you or how gross they think it is, because it's actually helping to relieve the pain (from using the crappy tissues).
I couldn't help but notice when I was in the store how many drugs they now offer for whatever ails you. I've been thinking about the times when I was younger and would get sick. My Mom would rub Vicks Vaporub on my chest, which I always hated, but it made me feel better. My Dad would make me soft boiled eggs and take an ice chipper to our ice cubes to make ice chips for me to suck on (before the days of automatic ice machines in your freezer) and it would make me feel better. I remember the days when my Mom would sleep at the foot of my twin size bed all night long when I was sick just to be there if I woke up and needed something.
When I was twelve I was hospitalized for five days because I was very sick with pnuemonia. On top of that they had been giving me an antibiotic that I was allergic to and I had been vomiting for twelve hours straight. The only thing that helped me to feel better was Mom rubbing my leg for me, and the poor thing must have done it until her arm was ready to fall off.
I think the best cure for what ails you is love. Pure and simple, love. So when you're not feeling well, accept the help of those who want to care for you. If you're alone and don't have that option, take care of yourself the same way you would a loved one...and don't hoard the damn tissues!
xo,
Carrie
As I rounded the corner to go pay, there were two women waiting in line speaking Spanish to eachother, and I just happened to glance into their cart. There sat seven, I repeat SEVEN boxes of the good kind of tissues. Seven JUMBO boxes. Should I say something? Does someone really have a right to buy all of the good tissues off the shelf at one time? What about the rest of us with colds? That's it! I don't care if I am a Libra, I'm saying something!
Just then the lady behind the counter called out, "Next" and off they went. Darn it again! I moved my cart up closer behind them as they paid and when they turned to go, one lady caught me eyeing her and smiled at me. Of course I smiled back, but as they made their way out the door I found myself mumbling under my breath, "Bitch!". You know you don't feel good when that happens.
You also know you don't feel good when you're sitting at your son's basketall game smearing chapstick all over your nose and not caring how many people may be looking at you or how gross they think it is, because it's actually helping to relieve the pain (from using the crappy tissues).
I couldn't help but notice when I was in the store how many drugs they now offer for whatever ails you. I've been thinking about the times when I was younger and would get sick. My Mom would rub Vicks Vaporub on my chest, which I always hated, but it made me feel better. My Dad would make me soft boiled eggs and take an ice chipper to our ice cubes to make ice chips for me to suck on (before the days of automatic ice machines in your freezer) and it would make me feel better. I remember the days when my Mom would sleep at the foot of my twin size bed all night long when I was sick just to be there if I woke up and needed something.
When I was twelve I was hospitalized for five days because I was very sick with pnuemonia. On top of that they had been giving me an antibiotic that I was allergic to and I had been vomiting for twelve hours straight. The only thing that helped me to feel better was Mom rubbing my leg for me, and the poor thing must have done it until her arm was ready to fall off.
I think the best cure for what ails you is love. Pure and simple, love. So when you're not feeling well, accept the help of those who want to care for you. If you're alone and don't have that option, take care of yourself the same way you would a loved one...and don't hoard the damn tissues!
xo,
Carrie
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Addiction
I was talking to a friend last night whose son, like mine, struggles with addiction. Her son recently relapsed and we were discussing how regardless the number of times you've lived through the relapse, it's still just as painful when it happens again. I equate it to being the parent of a child who suffers from cancer, then the cancer goes into remission only to re-appear and this time it's come with a bit more aggression than the last. How could it be any less painful the second, or third, or "I've lost count" time it happens? Granted, it doesn't have the same shock value as when you first learn the disease exists but all of the other emotions are the same. My heart goes out to my friend. I understand her pain.
I have been fortunate in that my son has now been sober or "in remission" for almost two years. I think this is the longest stretch since he was in his early teens and he's now twenty five years old. When I look back at some of the things I've written over the years I'm reminded of how devastating the disease of addiction is. I'm amazed that a family can survive the chaos that comes along with it.
It's important to remember that no matter how great our pain, it can't hold a candle to the pain of the addict. We tend to forget that when we get caught up in our own pain and anger. I don't consider myself an angry person (I'm a Libra, remember? I'm a lover not a fighter!) but I can't even begin to describe how angry I've been at times in my life at the disease of addiction. Somehow, as the Mom though, I've always been able to hold compassion in my heart for the addict.
We MUST remember that the addict is a victim too. I always cringe when I hear someone say that addiction is a disease of choice. This person has obviously never lived it. Perhaps it was a choice the very first time or maybe the second time my son decided to try drugs. Mind you, this was the choice of a very young teen, and we all know what sound choices they make, but once heroin came into the picture "choice" was removed from the equation. The addict craves drugs like you and I crave air - there is no choice there.
Please keep compassion in your heart for the addict and remember that whether in remission or not, it's a life long battle they must endure.
I'd like to share something with you that I wrote for my son a while ago -
The boy asked the moon, "Why have you been so long in rising for me?" To which the moon said, "I will NOT enable your impatient soul! I will reveal the secrets hidden in my glow only when I know you are ready to accept them."
He fears he will have to search long and hard when the moon asks, "Why not abandon me and follow the sun as you have so many times before?" but his answer comes effortlessly -
"I know many choose the sun as I have in the past but I desire a better way. I have become all too familiar with the way it lures me to it's light time and time again. Continually enticing me with it's warmth. Wrapping me tight, each time tighter in it's rays, all the while it's true intent to burn me. I am no longer interested in the false promises of the sun. I understand now that it shines so brightly only to illuminate my pain."
"You've got my attention," replied the moon. "What is it that you ask of my rising?"
"I only ask for a chance. Your light reveals all the life which would otherwise remain hidden in the darkness. It is that life hidden in my darkness which I desire. I long to trust in my light the way so many trust in yours so that I will no longer need to seek it elsewhere."
The moon cautioned, "But the sun's lure is very powerful. It will continue to call for you."
"I know," replied the boy.
"I can never offer you what the sun has brought to you all of these years. I can only offer you your truth."
"That is all I've ever wanted. I will ask nothing more of you."
The moon paused for what seemed like an eternity to the boy, but in time responded, "Very well my friend, I will go at my OWN pace, but if you are patient, I will rise for you. I promise, I WILL rise for you."
The boy bowed his head to the moon in a gesture of gratitude as he walked away.
Now, he no longer fears the nightfall, for it is filled with far too much hope.
And his soul waits patiently...
xo,
Carrie
I have been fortunate in that my son has now been sober or "in remission" for almost two years. I think this is the longest stretch since he was in his early teens and he's now twenty five years old. When I look back at some of the things I've written over the years I'm reminded of how devastating the disease of addiction is. I'm amazed that a family can survive the chaos that comes along with it.
It's important to remember that no matter how great our pain, it can't hold a candle to the pain of the addict. We tend to forget that when we get caught up in our own pain and anger. I don't consider myself an angry person (I'm a Libra, remember? I'm a lover not a fighter!) but I can't even begin to describe how angry I've been at times in my life at the disease of addiction. Somehow, as the Mom though, I've always been able to hold compassion in my heart for the addict.
We MUST remember that the addict is a victim too. I always cringe when I hear someone say that addiction is a disease of choice. This person has obviously never lived it. Perhaps it was a choice the very first time or maybe the second time my son decided to try drugs. Mind you, this was the choice of a very young teen, and we all know what sound choices they make, but once heroin came into the picture "choice" was removed from the equation. The addict craves drugs like you and I crave air - there is no choice there.
Please keep compassion in your heart for the addict and remember that whether in remission or not, it's a life long battle they must endure.
I'd like to share something with you that I wrote for my son a while ago -
The boy asked the moon, "Why have you been so long in rising for me?" To which the moon said, "I will NOT enable your impatient soul! I will reveal the secrets hidden in my glow only when I know you are ready to accept them."
He fears he will have to search long and hard when the moon asks, "Why not abandon me and follow the sun as you have so many times before?" but his answer comes effortlessly -
"I know many choose the sun as I have in the past but I desire a better way. I have become all too familiar with the way it lures me to it's light time and time again. Continually enticing me with it's warmth. Wrapping me tight, each time tighter in it's rays, all the while it's true intent to burn me. I am no longer interested in the false promises of the sun. I understand now that it shines so brightly only to illuminate my pain."
"You've got my attention," replied the moon. "What is it that you ask of my rising?"
"I only ask for a chance. Your light reveals all the life which would otherwise remain hidden in the darkness. It is that life hidden in my darkness which I desire. I long to trust in my light the way so many trust in yours so that I will no longer need to seek it elsewhere."
The moon cautioned, "But the sun's lure is very powerful. It will continue to call for you."
"I know," replied the boy.
"I can never offer you what the sun has brought to you all of these years. I can only offer you your truth."
"That is all I've ever wanted. I will ask nothing more of you."
The moon paused for what seemed like an eternity to the boy, but in time responded, "Very well my friend, I will go at my OWN pace, but if you are patient, I will rise for you. I promise, I WILL rise for you."
The boy bowed his head to the moon in a gesture of gratitude as he walked away.
Now, he no longer fears the nightfall, for it is filled with far too much hope.
And his soul waits patiently...
xo,
Carrie
Friday, January 8, 2010
Colors
I mentioned in my very first blog about connecting some years back with the author Joan Anderson (A Year by the Sea, Thoughts of an Unfinished Woman). I decided to go back and read the first letter (she sent two) I ever received from her. I sent her a letter telling her how much I loved and related to her book and I also enclosed a copy of a poem I had written entitled The Colors of a Woman. I'd like to share the letter and the poem -
Dear Carolyn,
Wow! What a letter and what an honest writer you are. Thanks so very much for taking the time to write and most especially the poem, I will xerox it and give it to the women who attend my weekend retreats. When the book first came out, Doubleday thought I would only hear from 50 year olds - Not so! My mail comes from all ages, many 20 and 30 year olds already caught being what others want them to be. My message is about Retreat - Repair - Regenerate and Renew. We need nourished feminine energy if the culture is to SURVIVE. Bless you for your unfinishedness -
Joan Anderson
The Colors of a Woman
I am a woman of many colors
each representing a different aspect of me
I am a woman of many treasures
slowly beginning to be set free
It's time to scale the walls I've built
and find out what my heart knows
I hope that I'll be welcome there
it's not a place I'll often go
My fears deny me entry
to this sacred knowing spot
My heart's voice held for ransom
more often times than not
Perhaps today I'll penetrate
the barricades of my mind
A subtle wind of change may blow
a doorway in this time
The steep road that leads to change
it may just be surmountable
The entry in the payoff
for holding myself accountable
The strength that's held inside this place
could surely move a mountain
The riches waiting for me there
larger in size than a Titan
Yes I think today's the day
I'll take this needed trip
My colors will encompass me
support me should I slip
The key to all my tomorrows
deserves to be retrieved
I will find my way in this time
my future's counting on me
It's a great day to let your colors shine, don't you think?
xo,
Carrie
Dear Carolyn,
Wow! What a letter and what an honest writer you are. Thanks so very much for taking the time to write and most especially the poem, I will xerox it and give it to the women who attend my weekend retreats. When the book first came out, Doubleday thought I would only hear from 50 year olds - Not so! My mail comes from all ages, many 20 and 30 year olds already caught being what others want them to be. My message is about Retreat - Repair - Regenerate and Renew. We need nourished feminine energy if the culture is to SURVIVE. Bless you for your unfinishedness -
Joan Anderson
The Colors of a Woman
I am a woman of many colors
each representing a different aspect of me
I am a woman of many treasures
slowly beginning to be set free
It's time to scale the walls I've built
and find out what my heart knows
I hope that I'll be welcome there
it's not a place I'll often go
My fears deny me entry
to this sacred knowing spot
My heart's voice held for ransom
more often times than not
Perhaps today I'll penetrate
the barricades of my mind
A subtle wind of change may blow
a doorway in this time
The steep road that leads to change
it may just be surmountable
The entry in the payoff
for holding myself accountable
The strength that's held inside this place
could surely move a mountain
The riches waiting for me there
larger in size than a Titan
Yes I think today's the day
I'll take this needed trip
My colors will encompass me
support me should I slip
The key to all my tomorrows
deserves to be retrieved
I will find my way in this time
my future's counting on me
It's a great day to let your colors shine, don't you think?
xo,
Carrie
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Signs
Signs, signs, everywhere the signs...
Dear Mom,
Good morning, it's me Carrie! Not sure if you recognize me with the brown hair. I know, how could you not recognize your baby girl, right? I miss you calling me that. It's a term of endearment that only you spoke and I miss it. Don't worry, Dad's still calling me his "Little tweety pie" and that makes me happy.
So how are things going with you? I'll bet you've met some interesting souls. It's comforting to know that you're still watching out for us and I'm grateful to you for all of the signs you've sent that you're okay and happy, beginning with the amazing sky you painted for us only moments after you left. It was a spectacular show and I'm sure can't hold a candle to the beauty that you're witnessing.
It was clever of you to get my friends downtown on the evening of your passing, and even more clever to get them to walk around so they could stumble upon your name MIDGE engraved in the sidewalk. We all know that Midge is not a very common name and it's pretty clear that was your doing!
The upside down rainbows you sent on the Sunday after your passing couldn't have been more beautiful. The perfect smile, filled with color. I'll never think of a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow again. I'll think of you and your beautiful smile.
Your presence in my friend's dream was beyond clever! You purposely chose someone who had never met you so I would pay attention, didn't you? How could I not, when the clues you left were spot on Mom? You responding with "M" when she asked you your name and your comment, "What about the pearls? I've always loved the pearls." made me chuckle. Did you think I'd forget you wanted me to have your pearls? I have them, and I love them. Your hair was dark in her dream, as it was in real life before you made the bold move to go blonde. A move you referenced in the dream by saying, "I've always wanted to go lighter". You were gorgeous either way! And pointing out your black, cat eye shaped glasses to her was the clincher. When I showed her a picture of you wearing those glasses, she knew beyond a doubt, as I did, you had come. I'm SO grateful that she had heard of your passing and took the time to call and ask if this dream was meant for me. Was it ever!
Oh, and just incase there was any doubt that this dream was meant for me, knocking the Angel of Dreams off the shelf at CVS while another friend was standing there to see was a nice touch. Luckily I had told her of the dream and your plan was successful! She purchased it for me and it sits next to your picture and a candle on my kitchen table. You are determined and I love it! Thank you.
The Falcon sitting atop my swing set was very cool too, though I haven't figured out if there's a deeper message involved in that one yet.
And now that it's been over two months, and I thought perhaps the signs would stop, you continue to let me know you're with me. I can't tell you how much it touched me when I was talking to you last night while driving to Dad's house and I became emotional while asking you to send me a sign if you could hear me, that you were able to get the radio DJ at that exact moment to play the song I love! The one that has the line in it , "I love you (baby girl), I love you, I love you, I love you. How could I doubt it was you when I got into the car to come home and as soon as the car started, there was the exact same song playing, at that exact same spot, "I love you, (baby girl), I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you too Mom and miss you more than you know. I'm keeping my eyes, ears and heart wide open to any other signs you may be sending my way and I'll write again soon.
Big hugs and kisses to you.
xo,
Carrie
Dear Mom,
Good morning, it's me Carrie! Not sure if you recognize me with the brown hair. I know, how could you not recognize your baby girl, right? I miss you calling me that. It's a term of endearment that only you spoke and I miss it. Don't worry, Dad's still calling me his "Little tweety pie" and that makes me happy.
So how are things going with you? I'll bet you've met some interesting souls. It's comforting to know that you're still watching out for us and I'm grateful to you for all of the signs you've sent that you're okay and happy, beginning with the amazing sky you painted for us only moments after you left. It was a spectacular show and I'm sure can't hold a candle to the beauty that you're witnessing.
It was clever of you to get my friends downtown on the evening of your passing, and even more clever to get them to walk around so they could stumble upon your name MIDGE engraved in the sidewalk. We all know that Midge is not a very common name and it's pretty clear that was your doing!
The upside down rainbows you sent on the Sunday after your passing couldn't have been more beautiful. The perfect smile, filled with color. I'll never think of a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow again. I'll think of you and your beautiful smile.
Your presence in my friend's dream was beyond clever! You purposely chose someone who had never met you so I would pay attention, didn't you? How could I not, when the clues you left were spot on Mom? You responding with "M" when she asked you your name and your comment, "What about the pearls? I've always loved the pearls." made me chuckle. Did you think I'd forget you wanted me to have your pearls? I have them, and I love them. Your hair was dark in her dream, as it was in real life before you made the bold move to go blonde. A move you referenced in the dream by saying, "I've always wanted to go lighter". You were gorgeous either way! And pointing out your black, cat eye shaped glasses to her was the clincher. When I showed her a picture of you wearing those glasses, she knew beyond a doubt, as I did, you had come. I'm SO grateful that she had heard of your passing and took the time to call and ask if this dream was meant for me. Was it ever!
Oh, and just incase there was any doubt that this dream was meant for me, knocking the Angel of Dreams off the shelf at CVS while another friend was standing there to see was a nice touch. Luckily I had told her of the dream and your plan was successful! She purchased it for me and it sits next to your picture and a candle on my kitchen table. You are determined and I love it! Thank you.
The Falcon sitting atop my swing set was very cool too, though I haven't figured out if there's a deeper message involved in that one yet.
And now that it's been over two months, and I thought perhaps the signs would stop, you continue to let me know you're with me. I can't tell you how much it touched me when I was talking to you last night while driving to Dad's house and I became emotional while asking you to send me a sign if you could hear me, that you were able to get the radio DJ at that exact moment to play the song I love! The one that has the line in it , "I love you (baby girl), I love you, I love you, I love you. How could I doubt it was you when I got into the car to come home and as soon as the car started, there was the exact same song playing, at that exact same spot, "I love you, (baby girl), I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you too Mom and miss you more than you know. I'm keeping my eyes, ears and heart wide open to any other signs you may be sending my way and I'll write again soon.
Big hugs and kisses to you.
xo,
Carrie
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Infomercials
What is it about the human psyche that allows a person to get sucked into the infomercial (oh come on, you know you've done it!)?
Yesterday at about 5:30 p.m. after my daycare kids left and dinner was in the oven, I decided to sit down for about a half hour and catch up on the local news. As I clicked on the T.V., there it was staring me right in the face - "Tony Little's Balance Board!"
I was instantly mesmerized by this small contraption that you had to stand on, balance yourself and rock side to side. Or of course, you could do squats while you balance, use hand weights to intensify the workout while you balance, dance to some groovy music while you balance, pretend you're street skating while you balance, etc., etc.. Oh, and you do realize that you can just stand on it while you talk on your cell phone and get a great workout because all of your core muscles are engaged simply by balancing (really, I know this because a lady demonstrated it for me).
I couldn't help myself! It just slipped out...
"Honey...I want one of these!"
"Carrie, you have a gym membership!"
"Oh yeah, BUT it's only $54.95! And get this...you can do two flex payments of only $27.50!!"
"Carrie, don't be ridiculous, just get on the floor and do some damn crunches!"
"I know, but it looks like so much fun!"
Infomercials (and I say that in the exact same manner in which Seinfeld used to say "Newman")!Books, make-up, jewelery, shoes, face cream, even an ugly polyester tunic shirt looks inviting on an infomercial...
"But honey, look how beautifully it falls."
I'm willing to bet that a perfectly intelligent, well educated person, at just the right moment, could get sucked into the infomercial.
I don't know, maybe I'll have to consult my cousin the psychiatrist on this one, but in the meantime, don't be surprised if the next time you walk into my house you're greeted by a Tony Little Balance Board (only $54.95)!
xo,
Carrie
Yesterday at about 5:30 p.m. after my daycare kids left and dinner was in the oven, I decided to sit down for about a half hour and catch up on the local news. As I clicked on the T.V., there it was staring me right in the face - "Tony Little's Balance Board!"
I was instantly mesmerized by this small contraption that you had to stand on, balance yourself and rock side to side. Or of course, you could do squats while you balance, use hand weights to intensify the workout while you balance, dance to some groovy music while you balance, pretend you're street skating while you balance, etc., etc.. Oh, and you do realize that you can just stand on it while you talk on your cell phone and get a great workout because all of your core muscles are engaged simply by balancing (really, I know this because a lady demonstrated it for me).
I couldn't help myself! It just slipped out...
"Honey...I want one of these!"
"Carrie, you have a gym membership!"
"Oh yeah, BUT it's only $54.95! And get this...you can do two flex payments of only $27.50!!"
"Carrie, don't be ridiculous, just get on the floor and do some damn crunches!"
"I know, but it looks like so much fun!"
Infomercials (and I say that in the exact same manner in which Seinfeld used to say "Newman")!Books, make-up, jewelery, shoes, face cream, even an ugly polyester tunic shirt looks inviting on an infomercial...
"But honey, look how beautifully it falls."
I'm willing to bet that a perfectly intelligent, well educated person, at just the right moment, could get sucked into the infomercial.
I don't know, maybe I'll have to consult my cousin the psychiatrist on this one, but in the meantime, don't be surprised if the next time you walk into my house you're greeted by a Tony Little Balance Board (only $54.95)!
xo,
Carrie
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Choices
I always write on paper what I'm going to write in this blog. Something about the action of putting pen to paper helps me to bring my thoughts to life. I've been using a journal that I found in my night table that was mostly empty (happy to say it's now mostly full). This morning I decided to browse through the pages which were filled before I took on this endeavor and I came across some things I had written down on last years retreat (my annual retreat to the Mercy Center which I go on every year with friends the last weekend in January - WOOHOO!). They came from something entitiled "Living Simply - CHOICES" - and I'd like to share them with you.
It takes courage to commit to your own deepest desires...(even when others doubt, I can summon the courage to take my deepest hopes and dreams seriously. In fact, to live fully I MUST take them seriously.)
In many ways it has always been easier to act as if there were not options; as if we didn't have a choice...(I am grateful that I have choices, and I will exercise them to sustain and enhance my life.)
Success is such an enticing word...(I can define "success" for me and be pleased to call myself "successful" on my own terms.)
I would like it to be different but it can't be now...(today I will do one thing that moves me toward where I want to be.)
People either have results in their lives or reasons why they don't...(I can trade in my "reasons" for the results I seek.)
People on their death beds don't say, "Gee, I wish I'd spent more time at the office." They say, I wish I'd spent more time with my spouse or kids, or exploring nature...(I will arrange my life so that I can spend more time ______________.)
There is no answer. There is never going to be an answer. There never has been an answer...(Just as every human being is physically different, so each person's answer to life's meaning is individual. Find your own answer. That's the answer.)
Your best way is not mine...(I will learn from others while setting my own course.)
In a world of appearances, be sure to weigh the underlying substance...(wisdom and grace may wear strange coats and live in old houses.)
Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly...(when I have not been silly for a long time, life loses some of it's sweetness.)
For the measure you give will be the measure you get back. Luke 6:38...(I will be with others the way I want others to be with me.)
Some really good thoughts to ponder as you go on with your day. Choice...it's a beautiful thing!
xo,
Carrie
It takes courage to commit to your own deepest desires...(even when others doubt, I can summon the courage to take my deepest hopes and dreams seriously. In fact, to live fully I MUST take them seriously.)
In many ways it has always been easier to act as if there were not options; as if we didn't have a choice...(I am grateful that I have choices, and I will exercise them to sustain and enhance my life.)
Success is such an enticing word...(I can define "success" for me and be pleased to call myself "successful" on my own terms.)
I would like it to be different but it can't be now...(today I will do one thing that moves me toward where I want to be.)
People either have results in their lives or reasons why they don't...(I can trade in my "reasons" for the results I seek.)
People on their death beds don't say, "Gee, I wish I'd spent more time at the office." They say, I wish I'd spent more time with my spouse or kids, or exploring nature...(I will arrange my life so that I can spend more time ______________.)
There is no answer. There is never going to be an answer. There never has been an answer...(Just as every human being is physically different, so each person's answer to life's meaning is individual. Find your own answer. That's the answer.)
Your best way is not mine...(I will learn from others while setting my own course.)
In a world of appearances, be sure to weigh the underlying substance...(wisdom and grace may wear strange coats and live in old houses.)
Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly...(when I have not been silly for a long time, life loses some of it's sweetness.)
For the measure you give will be the measure you get back. Luke 6:38...(I will be with others the way I want others to be with me.)
Some really good thoughts to ponder as you go on with your day. Choice...it's a beautiful thing!
xo,
Carrie
Monday, January 4, 2010
Grief
I'm finding the grieving process to be a very strange beast and you never really know when it's going to rear it's ugly head. The times when I'm expecting it to show up, it surprises me.
I waited over a month to go to my Dad's house because I was sure it would be unbearable to walk through the door knowing my Mom wouldn't be there. I even called in reinforcements and asked my sister to meet me there incase I needed her. It was hard, but not nearly as hard as I'd expected. I thought Thanksgiving would be a day filled with tears from beginning to end as it would be the first holiday without her. It had it's moments but none that brought me to the point of no return. We've just come away from Christmas and New Years and you would certainly expect those days to be filled with grief but on the contrary, I found them to be mostly joyful.
It's the moments when you aren't expecting it, the moments when it catches you off guard that are the most difficult. Like when I'm dusting and I catch a glimpse of her beautiful face staring at me from a picture I've just run my dustrag over. Or when I'm in the grocery store and eye a box of Mallomar cookies which she used to buy for us when we were kids.
My brother and sister-in- law gave my siblings, Dad and I the most thoughtful gift this year. The box it came in was thin and looked like it would house a 4 x 6 photo perfectly so I prepared myself for the opening to reveal a picture of Mom. I felt confident as I pulled on the ribbon that I could handle this just fine. I lifted the top off the box and found a Christmas ornament which read -
Merry Christmas from Heaven
I love you all dearly
Now don't shed a tear
I'm spending my Christmas
With Jesus this year
It was accompanied by a poem that started out, "I still hear the songs, I still see the lights, I still feel your love on cold wintery nights." I fell into a pool of tears that it took me three hours to find my way out of.
My Mom wanted me to have her engagement ring. The day of her funeral the funeral director sent a little box back with my sister that held the jewelery Mom had on, including her engagement ring. We decided we would send the box home with Dad when he left and as he was getting ready to go my sister asked, "Did you take the ring?" I replied, "No. I don't want to assume that Dad's ready to part with it", and while that was true, my response was more about me thinking I wouldn't be able to wear it. It would be too painful and just wouldn't feel right. It belonged on Mom's finger, not mine.
The night I decided to go see Dad we looked at her jewelery again and Dad said, "You should take that", as I held the ring. I asked if he was ready to say goodbye to it and he responded, "I said goodbye to it the day I said goodbye to Mommy." So I apprehensively put it on my finger, expecting once again to be overcome with grief but what I found was just the opposite. I felt a sense of relief. I felt comfort as I do every time I wear it. All I have to do is look down to see a little piece of my Mom.
No, it's not the times when you expect it or you've prepared for it that you'll find it. It's the times when you least expect it that it jumps out and grabs hold of you. Like just now, when I threw Dad's sheets into the washing machine and there was only one pillow case. Like now, when I put a load of his clothes in the dryer and realized I've just used the last dryer sheet out of the box of 100 that Mom bought for me.
A box of dryer sheets ago I still had my Mom fidgeting around in my laundry room.
A box of dryer sheets ago I still had a Mom to call me her"Precious baby girl."
One hundred dryer sheets ago...
Gotta' go. I can feel the beast coming.
xo,
Carrie
I waited over a month to go to my Dad's house because I was sure it would be unbearable to walk through the door knowing my Mom wouldn't be there. I even called in reinforcements and asked my sister to meet me there incase I needed her. It was hard, but not nearly as hard as I'd expected. I thought Thanksgiving would be a day filled with tears from beginning to end as it would be the first holiday without her. It had it's moments but none that brought me to the point of no return. We've just come away from Christmas and New Years and you would certainly expect those days to be filled with grief but on the contrary, I found them to be mostly joyful.
It's the moments when you aren't expecting it, the moments when it catches you off guard that are the most difficult. Like when I'm dusting and I catch a glimpse of her beautiful face staring at me from a picture I've just run my dustrag over. Or when I'm in the grocery store and eye a box of Mallomar cookies which she used to buy for us when we were kids.
My brother and sister-in- law gave my siblings, Dad and I the most thoughtful gift this year. The box it came in was thin and looked like it would house a 4 x 6 photo perfectly so I prepared myself for the opening to reveal a picture of Mom. I felt confident as I pulled on the ribbon that I could handle this just fine. I lifted the top off the box and found a Christmas ornament which read -
Merry Christmas from Heaven
I love you all dearly
Now don't shed a tear
I'm spending my Christmas
With Jesus this year
It was accompanied by a poem that started out, "I still hear the songs, I still see the lights, I still feel your love on cold wintery nights." I fell into a pool of tears that it took me three hours to find my way out of.
My Mom wanted me to have her engagement ring. The day of her funeral the funeral director sent a little box back with my sister that held the jewelery Mom had on, including her engagement ring. We decided we would send the box home with Dad when he left and as he was getting ready to go my sister asked, "Did you take the ring?" I replied, "No. I don't want to assume that Dad's ready to part with it", and while that was true, my response was more about me thinking I wouldn't be able to wear it. It would be too painful and just wouldn't feel right. It belonged on Mom's finger, not mine.
The night I decided to go see Dad we looked at her jewelery again and Dad said, "You should take that", as I held the ring. I asked if he was ready to say goodbye to it and he responded, "I said goodbye to it the day I said goodbye to Mommy." So I apprehensively put it on my finger, expecting once again to be overcome with grief but what I found was just the opposite. I felt a sense of relief. I felt comfort as I do every time I wear it. All I have to do is look down to see a little piece of my Mom.
No, it's not the times when you expect it or you've prepared for it that you'll find it. It's the times when you least expect it that it jumps out and grabs hold of you. Like just now, when I threw Dad's sheets into the washing machine and there was only one pillow case. Like now, when I put a load of his clothes in the dryer and realized I've just used the last dryer sheet out of the box of 100 that Mom bought for me.
A box of dryer sheets ago I still had my Mom fidgeting around in my laundry room.
A box of dryer sheets ago I still had a Mom to call me her"Precious baby girl."
One hundred dryer sheets ago...
Gotta' go. I can feel the beast coming.
xo,
Carrie
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Observing
One of the things I'm noticing as I get older is that I'm becoming a much better observer than I ever was. I don't know if that comes naturally with age, if it's a learned behavior or simply a desired one. Part of it could be due to my lack of alcohol consumption. Alcohol always persuaded me to be much more of a participant (in just about anything!) than an observer, but that's a blog for another day.
Human behavior is fascinating sometimes when you sit back and observe. Take for instance my visit to the Post Office yesterday morning. I arrived at 9:25 a.m. and the line was just about to the entrance. There were 13 people in front of me (I counted) and I couldn't help but notice only one woman working. They had been closed the day before so I couldn't understand why this would be but I took a deep breath as I accepted that this was not going to be a quick in and out. Luckily I had a client with me so we were able to chat which made the wait somewhat bearable.
As we inched ever so slowly toward the woman you could start to feel the tension in the air. People were mumbling under their breath, pacing back and forth, side to side and loud sighing surrounded me. By the time it was our turn the line was now out the door. I counted 22 from start to finish. The simmer was becoming a low boil as one woman walked up and said, "Where's your supervisor? What is this...insanity?" Another yelled out from the line, "Yeah!! She's right, this is crazy! All I want is stamps!"
I suddenly felt very sorry for the one worker behind the counter and let her know I appreciated her situation and she was doing a fine job under the circumstances. She called for a supervisor but noone came (big surprise, would you willingly be thrown to the lions?), she called for help and one woman showed up who could only help people picking up mail.
"Can't you sell me some stamps? This is ridiculous! Don't they train you people to sell stamps? Give me the name and phone number of your supervisor!
"Me too, I want it too."
"You'd better make alot of copies because I'm taking it too! Someone's going to hear about this!"
My client was now sitting down at the handicapped desk filling out some paperwork (the time was 10:35 and the line was up to 25). Again I hear, "All this for some stamps. This is out of control!" You could feel the low boil turning into a full boil as the rumble of the crowd increased. I piped in, "You know you can buy stamps at CVS."
"YES I KNOW!! I could've gone to CVS OR Walgreens OR Stop & Shop, but I need 150 and I wanted to pick out which kind I like!" I sympathetically responded, "Oh, I see. That's too bad."
I began thinking to myself, what you need in a situation like this is a diversion. They should have some nice music playing, or a TV or a damn clown! Maybe I should do a little song and dance to ease the tension (it's the Libra in me...keep the peace at all costs!).
Then I heard it..."You know, if someone wanted to hold this place up there's only one worker! What the heck could she do about it?" My client and I looked at eachother and I said, "I feel a riot coming on, time to go!"
Fascinating stuff if you're able to observe and not participate.
xo,
Carrie
Human behavior is fascinating sometimes when you sit back and observe. Take for instance my visit to the Post Office yesterday morning. I arrived at 9:25 a.m. and the line was just about to the entrance. There were 13 people in front of me (I counted) and I couldn't help but notice only one woman working. They had been closed the day before so I couldn't understand why this would be but I took a deep breath as I accepted that this was not going to be a quick in and out. Luckily I had a client with me so we were able to chat which made the wait somewhat bearable.
As we inched ever so slowly toward the woman you could start to feel the tension in the air. People were mumbling under their breath, pacing back and forth, side to side and loud sighing surrounded me. By the time it was our turn the line was now out the door. I counted 22 from start to finish. The simmer was becoming a low boil as one woman walked up and said, "Where's your supervisor? What is this...insanity?" Another yelled out from the line, "Yeah!! She's right, this is crazy! All I want is stamps!"
I suddenly felt very sorry for the one worker behind the counter and let her know I appreciated her situation and she was doing a fine job under the circumstances. She called for a supervisor but noone came (big surprise, would you willingly be thrown to the lions?), she called for help and one woman showed up who could only help people picking up mail.
"Can't you sell me some stamps? This is ridiculous! Don't they train you people to sell stamps? Give me the name and phone number of your supervisor!
"Me too, I want it too."
"You'd better make alot of copies because I'm taking it too! Someone's going to hear about this!"
My client was now sitting down at the handicapped desk filling out some paperwork (the time was 10:35 and the line was up to 25). Again I hear, "All this for some stamps. This is out of control!" You could feel the low boil turning into a full boil as the rumble of the crowd increased. I piped in, "You know you can buy stamps at CVS."
"YES I KNOW!! I could've gone to CVS OR Walgreens OR Stop & Shop, but I need 150 and I wanted to pick out which kind I like!" I sympathetically responded, "Oh, I see. That's too bad."
I began thinking to myself, what you need in a situation like this is a diversion. They should have some nice music playing, or a TV or a damn clown! Maybe I should do a little song and dance to ease the tension (it's the Libra in me...keep the peace at all costs!).
Then I heard it..."You know, if someone wanted to hold this place up there's only one worker! What the heck could she do about it?" My client and I looked at eachother and I said, "I feel a riot coming on, time to go!"
Fascinating stuff if you're able to observe and not participate.
xo,
Carrie
Friday, January 1, 2010
Possibilities
Seems like life is always re-teaching me lessons I think I've already learned.
We had a few different invitations from people who were kind enough to ask us to help them ring in the new year. My husband and I went back and forth on how we would try to navigate the night and at one point, the conversation actually got a bit heated because we couldn't agree on what we wanted to do. Finally, I broke down into tears and said, "I have just come off of a month of non stop celebrations that I faced with a very heavy heart and I may just not want to do ANYTHING!" He understood and said he would leave it up to me.
After the tears subsided, the guilt started to set in. My husband is a very hard worker and I can see as he ages the toll it's starting to take on him. He's also very good about going along with plans that are made for him without his consent throughout the year, his standard response being, "That's fine. Whatever you want to do." So I, with a bit of trepidation, agreed that we would go wherever he wanted to go and if I was having a hard time emotionally, I would let him know.
Enter lesson - I had the most fun I have had in a very long time! We ate wonderful food, laughed, recalled humorous events from days gone by and laughed some more, watched a bit of the Three Stooges marathon (at my husbands insistence) and laughed at what idiots they are, played Scattegories and laughed some more. We literally laughed so much that my face hurt by the time the evening was over. I even had a smile on my face as I lay my head on my pillow at about 12:15 a.m. or so when the phone rang and it was my husband's friend on the other end screaming with delight, "Bands that begin with an E...The EAGLES!!!!" Hey, I thought I was pretty good to come up with the Eurythmics but apparently he liked his answer better.
So this is the lesson I re-learned last night, ALWAYS stay open to the possibilities...no matter what.
New Year...new possibilities.
xo,
Carrie
We had a few different invitations from people who were kind enough to ask us to help them ring in the new year. My husband and I went back and forth on how we would try to navigate the night and at one point, the conversation actually got a bit heated because we couldn't agree on what we wanted to do. Finally, I broke down into tears and said, "I have just come off of a month of non stop celebrations that I faced with a very heavy heart and I may just not want to do ANYTHING!" He understood and said he would leave it up to me.
After the tears subsided, the guilt started to set in. My husband is a very hard worker and I can see as he ages the toll it's starting to take on him. He's also very good about going along with plans that are made for him without his consent throughout the year, his standard response being, "That's fine. Whatever you want to do." So I, with a bit of trepidation, agreed that we would go wherever he wanted to go and if I was having a hard time emotionally, I would let him know.
Enter lesson - I had the most fun I have had in a very long time! We ate wonderful food, laughed, recalled humorous events from days gone by and laughed some more, watched a bit of the Three Stooges marathon (at my husbands insistence) and laughed at what idiots they are, played Scattegories and laughed some more. We literally laughed so much that my face hurt by the time the evening was over. I even had a smile on my face as I lay my head on my pillow at about 12:15 a.m. or so when the phone rang and it was my husband's friend on the other end screaming with delight, "Bands that begin with an E...The EAGLES!!!!" Hey, I thought I was pretty good to come up with the Eurythmics but apparently he liked his answer better.
So this is the lesson I re-learned last night, ALWAYS stay open to the possibilities...no matter what.
New Year...new possibilities.
xo,
Carrie
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