In Defense of 2016

I know it's become fashionable to call 2016 The Worst Year Ever, and there were some pretty terrible things that happened this year.  We lost some beloved icons, democracy - especially here in North Carolina - was struck a crippling blow, and for a while there it felt like the world had turned upside down.  It seemed like there was more than our fair share of setbacks, losses, and disappointments.  But rather than think of this year as a stinker, I prefer to think about this as an opportunity for us to practice our  resilience.  We have taken some hits, yes.  But those hits were opportunities to learn and grow.  And 2016 brought me several gifts.

2016 was a big year for learning.  The events of this year challenged my assumptions about the world and my place in it.  They required me to take a long hard look at the space - both public and personal - I occupy and what exactly I do in that space.  These events shook me up and threw me off balance for a little while, but I've found that on the other side of them I am more stable and sure-footed than I was before.  I'm also more aware and attuned to the decisions that I make and the ripple effect of those decisions. I learned to take nothing for granted, and as a result of that, I think I've gained a deeper appreciation for what I do have.

2016 was a year of accomplishment and opportunity.  I took the next step to further my career, and in the process have found myself in a program that presents a chance for growth greater than I had imagined.  The Boy and The Girl both pushed themselves to new heights.  The Boy with the completion of his Bar Mitzvah studies, and The Girl with learning to embrace who she is and how she is.  All three of us are ending the year better than we were when we began it.

2016 was a year of connection.  We've grown beyond our little family of three. We established what the kiddos call our "Framily" - a network of deep friendships with other families who have become like family to us.  Through those connections, my children have learned how to navigate relationships and conflict and celebrations.  And boy did they have fun!

The challenges of 2016 gave me many teaching opportunities for my children.  They have learned how important it is to cast your vote in elections.  They've learned how essential it is to stand up for those who have less power than you and to make your voice heard.  They have also learned how to listen to those who have differing opinions than you - with respect and compassion and (hopefully) with an open mind.  It wasn't an easy year, but what year is?  And yes, there were some things that happened that are going to have long-lasting effects, the extent of which remain to be seen.  But it wasn't the worst.  And honestly, I wouldn't trade any of the bad stuff for the experiences we had.

Still. It's fun to look to the promise of a new year.  2017 will hold surprises and heartbreak, joy and challenges.  We will have learning experiences and opportunities for growth.  But then again, isn't that kind of the point?

Happy New Year, y'all!

Everybody Wins

This time of year, it's hard to to play the comparison game.  Everyone in the world is sharing their joys, their accomplishments, all the good things that have happened to them in the past year.  There are tons of photos: the smiling faces, happy families and blissful couples just beaming with love.  The song says it's the most wonderful time of the year.  And in a sense, it is.

But can be hard too, especially when things in your life aren't exactly settled in the way you'd like them to be.  If your job just isn't as fulfilling as you'd like - your home is a bit more shabby than chic - your kids are a bit more out of sorts than you'd wish them to be.  If you're without a partner or a promotion or financial security, it can be really hard to look at all that celebration and not feel at least a little sour.

That's part of being a human being.  As social animals, it's natural to observe what someone else has and maybe to want it for ourself.  We aren't bad for experiencing envy.   A little envy can be a catalyst to encourage us to examine our own lives and choices.  It can spur us to be more proactive or shake us out of our comfort zone.  It doesn't have to be bad.

And in fact, seeing others achieve can be downright wonderful.

When you have your head right, someone else's happiness doesn't have to diminish your own.  In fact, it can multiply it.  When your heart is full of love for yourself, other people finding love is a source of joy.  If you have an attitude of abundance, then someone else getting something good doesn't mean that there is less for you.  Happiness, it turns out, is not a zero sum game.  Quite the opposite.

Not So Proud to Be From NC Today

Dear NC General Assembly Member,

You should be ashamed of yourselves.   As a lifetime resident of North Carolina, I can honestly say that this is the most embarrassed I have been to admit this is my home.

You are elected to be the voice of the people of North Carolina.  Your job is to speak for us all.  Not just for yourself.  This attempt to sneak in legislation under the table, to "revise" the election process, and strip one particular Governor of power is just... sad.   

Here's a thought:  How about instead of warping the structure of our state government to suit your own needs, you actually try working with your political rivals?  How about instead of trying to suppress the voice of the people, you listen, consider what they have to say, and then come to a COMPROMISE?  How about putting what's best for our state above your own personal desire for power?

You all in Raleigh have pulled some pretty despicable stunts in the last few years, but this... This is really a new low for you.  

I cannot wait for the next election with new electoral maps.  When you are back to being an ordinary citizen, you can see how it feels to have your will and your voice completely negated.  It's infuriating.  While I don't wish you personal ill, I vehemently wish that you lose your job to someone who is willing to do the hard work of governance.  

I'm disappointed in all of you - regardless of party.

rfk

A Mentor or Teacher Who Invested In My Development

I have been blessed to learn under some truly talented individuals.  I've had leaders and peers who have pushed me beyond my limits - and who insisted I always bring my "A" Game.  But when I think about a mentor who had a huge impact on me both professionally and personally, it would have to be my student teaching cooperating teacher, Jessica Sziksai.

I ended up in Jessica's classroom at A.C. Reynolds High School by the hand of God.  Seriously!  She was the teacher I needed right when I needed her.  I was a senior at UNC Asheville, ready to take the teaching world by storm.  I was full of ideas and inspiration, but I had no clue how the world (or schools) really worked.  Jessica taught me how to "do school": how to manage the paper load while still giving students meaningful feedback, how to be kind and firm with students who pushed the limits, how to function on a larger faculty.

But more than that, Jessica taught me the importance of being present in your life.  She impressed upon me the importance of telling people how much they mean to you, of being thankful for small blessings that happen, of recognizing grace when you encounter it.  She taught me how to be a peaceful person - and while I'm still cultivating those lessons nearly 20 years later, she planted the seeds.

I will always be grateful to Jessica for investing in me at that pivotal time in my life.  She made me, not only the teacher, but the person I am today.

A Song, Book or Movie that Lifts My Spirits

I've written about several different songs that I identify with.  From the soaring "Defying Gravity" from Wicked to the hopeful "Heaven When We're Home" by the Wailin' Jennys there are a few songs that I can put on that - when applied en masse - can usually pull me out of a slump.

There are plenty of books that I enjoy escaping into - Outlander by Diana Gabaldon, Bossypants by Tina Fey, Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris, The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.  While they range from riotously funny to downright heartwrenching - they don't necessarily lift my spirits.

But there is something that I can count on - no matter how black my mood is, no matter how big a pity party I am throwing, no matter how low I feel - to raise my spirits every time: A little trip to Pawnee, Indiana.  There is something about the TV show Parks and Recreation that makes me happy to be alive.  It could be the array of eccentric characters who are apologetically themselves.

It could be the snappy writing and the editing that makes you feel like you're hanging out with these characters.  But, I actually think it's the unbridled optimism of the main character, Leslie Knope, that I love so much.  Leslie is an unabashed overachiever.

She's enthusiastic about her job and her community and her friends.

I just feel such a connection to her.

I too am super chill all the time - just like this.

The fact that she is played hilariously by Amy Poehler is just icing on the cake.  The show isn't as densely packed with jokes as my other absolute favorite - 30 Rock - but it has something wide-eyed and hopeful about it that the more snarky 30 Rock doesn't.

So anytime my spirits need a little lift, I just take a little vacation to  Pawnee - where the children are morbidly obese, the raccoons run rampant, and the waffles are plentiful!

Noticing Grace: Work That Gives Me Purpose

T.S. Eliot said "April is the cruellest month," but I think that October this year gave it a run for its money.  Last month kicked my butt.  But, as I said in a Facebook post today... The joke is on October, because it's gone, and I am still here.  It's November!  Hallelujah!!

I've noticed the past few years that friends have used the month of November to go all sorts of neat things: grow mustaches, write novels. and most importantly, give thanks.  When I saw my dear friend SarahWolf post this, I knew I had to jump on board.

I was reading an article recently that suggests that talking about your problems can actually exacerbate them.  Instead, it suggested focusing on the good things in your life as an alternative.  I happen to think that balance is key, but I've been doing a lot of dwelling lately, so I say: BRING ON THE GRATITUDE!!

Today's prompt is work that gives me purpose.

I've been a teacher for 18 years.  There have been many ups and downs in that time.  There were days where I felt like the queen of the world, and days when I could barely drag myself home after the last bell.  I've seen students accomplishing amazing feats - get scholarships, speak out to change the world, become teachers themselves.  I've seen students who left this world far too soon.  There were kids who made me smile every single day.  There were kids who I still actively avoid if I see them at the mall.  I've worked with some of the most unbelievably inspiring professionals.  Many of them have become life-long friends.  We've labored side by side doing some ridiculous things because we all believe in the importance of the work we do.

Being a teacher - first of students, and now of adults - has given me a very strong sense of purpose.  My efforts change lives.  And even when the pay is bad, the work load is unbearable, and the level of respect I get from my political leaders is pretty low, I can't imagine doing anything else.  I am a teacher - down to my bones.  And that gives me purpose.

Catharsis

The cool thing about feeling low is that even a little bit of lightening feels very dramatic.  And when the clouds part and you actually start to see the sun peek through...  There's nothing quite like it.

I've been carrying around a big heavy bag of marbles for a while now.  They were unwieldy and hard to manage, but they were mine.  And if there's one thing I've learned in the last year or so, it's to feel what comes as it comes.  Good, bad, ugly: it's all part of the growing.  It's all important.

Still, it gets old.

One of the things I've discovered that works to help clear the clouds for me is exercise. I run - slowly, and without grace, and not very far - but I do it.  I have learned that the act of putting one foot in front of the other does more for my soul than 100 hours of therapy.  (And that's saying something, because I LOVE my therapist!)

This morning I had one of those breakthrough moments.  I was chugging along, in the last quarter of my route. when a song came up on my playlist.  Heaven When We're Home by the Wailin' Jennys.  It's a sweet little song, with some beautiful harmonies, but it was the lyrics that washed over me today.

Don't know what time it is, I've been up for way too long

and I'm too tired to sleep

I call my mother on the phone, she wasn't home,

and now I'm wondering the street

I've been a fool, I've been cruel to myself

I've been hanging onto nothing

when nothing could be worse than hanging on

And something tells me there must be

something better than all this.

I've fallen many times in love and every time

it's been with the wrong man

Still I'm out there living one day at a time

and doing the best I can

Cuz we've all made mistakes

that seem to lead us astray

But every time they helped to get us where we are today

And that's a good a place as any

and it's probably where we're best off anyway

It's a long and rugged road

and we don't now where it's headed

But we know it's going to get us where we're going

And when we find what we're looking for

we'll drop these bags and search no more

'Cuz it's going to feel like heaven when we're home

It's going to feel like heaven when we're home

There's no such thing as perfect,

and if there is we'll fnd it when we're good and dead

Trust me I've been looking

bu tonight I think I'll go and take a bath instead

And then maybe I'll walk a while

and feel the earth beneath me

They say if you stop looking

it doesn't matter if you find it

And whose to say that even if I did

it's what I'm really looking for

It's a long and rugged road

and we don't now where it's headed

But we know it's going to get us where we're going

And when we find what we're looking for

we'll drop these bags and search no more

'Cuz it's going to feel like heaven when we're home

It's going to feel like heaven when we're home.

As I rounded the corner to my beautiful home and saw sweet little Mittens the kitty waiting for me on the front stoop, I realized - I'm going to be OK.  It's all going to be OK.  I can carry marbles if I need to.  They are my marbles after all.  And each one is a lesson that moves me down that long, rugged road - to a place that I know is going to be exactly where I need to be.

Despair

Despair is one of those things that affects everyone a little differently.  For some, it's a black cloud dumping rain down on them in a constant, drenching deluge.  Some experience it as the complete and total absence of light, hope, or joy.

For me, despair is a heavy load, unwieldy and hard to manage - like trying to carry 75 pounds of marbles in a plastic grocery bag.  Each marble is a memory - a piece of evidence in the case I build

against myself.  Sometimes, I sit and count them.  This one was the time I let down my guard and it came back to bite me.  That one is the memory of something that, when it happened, seemed magical, but now cast in the light of reality - is just another example of my foolish naivete. The bag itself is my thin veil of composure - the calm face that the world sees.  And there are many moments when I think I have it under control, until I move wrong - maybe too abruptly or with too much ease or worse, someone asks a question and it rips a jagged hole through that bag.  It splits, releasing a shower of hundreds of marbles: messy, loud, and public. After a moment of panic at being exposed, I shrug,  get another bag, gather up my marbles and keep trudging on.

As unwieldy as they are, they are my marbles.  I have earned them.

Yes, despair is a hard thing to get away from.

And logically, I realize that as long as I am carrying that bag, I am weighted down by those marbles.  There is no room in my hands for anything else.  At some point, I will have to stop counting and recounting them.  They will go on the shelf with all the other marbles I have accumulated in my life.  But in this moment, the marbles feel like all I have.  Everything else is slipping away, but the marbles?  The marbles are mine.  I cling to them because they are the only thing that makes me feel alive.

I Can Dish It Out, But Can I Take It?

I've written a lot on this blog about love of all kinds.  I've learned that I believe in a love that's different than the Hollywood, fairy tale version we were sold as children.   I've even spent some time working out a rubric for love. I spent a lot of time thinking about the process of learning to love oneself.  All the experiences and all of the learning again and again bring me back to that: loving yourself.

Not to brag or anything, but I think I've done a pretty good job of learning self love.  I'm much more gentle with myself these days: less critical, less judgmental, more patient, and way more forgiving. And I have seen direct evidence of how that impacts my relationship with others.  Being kind and loving to myself has deepened my relationship with family and old friends.  It has also, indirectly, brought into my life a whole new circle of friends.  Making friends as an adult is a strange and perilous experience.  It's hard to do, and when it does happen, it can often be shallow or short lived, based on convenience.  But when it works, man, is it awesome.

Except...

What happens when - as you start to love yourself and you become aware of the fact that you are surround by other loving individuals?  Nobody told me how hard it can be to just accept the fact that you are loved. Don't get me wrong.  The being loved part isn't new; I've been blessed to be surrounded by loving people my whole life.  But being aware of it, open to it and accepting of it?  That's more foreign to me than Differential Calculus.

 I see this as the next phase of growth.  I've learned to love myself.  I am able to love others.  Man, I can dish out the love like nobody's business.  But can I take it?  Can I sit back and let others love me?  It's a challenge, because to let others love you, you have to let others KNOW you.

To let others know you, you have to be willing to be known.  To drop the facades, to break down the walls, to show your heart and speak your mind.  That's a very vulnerable position to be in.  Anything can happen: rejection, withdrawal, ridicule, abandonment.  But...  if anything can happen, you can also get affirmation, connection, empathy, and acceptance.
Acceptance is a beautiful gift.  To have someone say, "I see your flaws and your shortcomings; I see your strengths and your gifts.  They are all A-OK with me."  That acceptance is a gift that almost seems too grand to accept.  But accepting that gift gives others the freedom to accept it as well.  And the beautiful thing is that it's contagious.  Those who feel loved are better able to give love. Those who give love are better able to accept love.  It becomes an upward spiral.

Opening ourselves up: to be vulnerable, to accept love, to be seen and known is scary.  But from what I've seen, in most cases, it's a good gamble with a high payoff.  And it's certainly more enjoyable than Calculus!

Act 24: Perform at an Open Mike

The difficulty in completing this act, I thought, was going to be in the scheduling.  Being a single mom with split custody of The Boy and The Girl, I'm almost always on Mom Duty Monday and Tuesday nights.  And it seems like every literary open mic in the Triangle takes place on - you guessed it! - Monday or Tuesday night.  It took almost 9 months to find a venue, a day, and a time that works.  Luckily, I found Lit Up Open Mic!  So, on a cool and clear March evening, I made my way to Fortnight Brewing Company in Cary to cross this off my list.

I was fine until I got into the parking lot.  I'm used to be in front of a crowd - heck!  I've stared down hordes of middle schoolers barely breaking a sweat!  I present in front of adults all the time.  Turns out, while some of those skills are transferable, it's a lot easier to present academic information than it is to reveal the words of your heart.  I'm not gonna lie.  I sat in my car for about 15 minutes before making my way inside.  Finally, bolstered by a few encouraging messages from my people and the arrival of my friend, Deb, I made it out of the car.

In hindsight, doing this at a brewery is a brilliant idea!  There happened to be plenty of liquid courage on hand - though it only took a few sips before I headed over to the table to sign up.  Not wanting to go first, I signed up for slot number 3, and went back to the table to wait my turn.  The crowd was pretty chill - most folks just hanging out after work to have a beer, catch up with friends, and watch a soccer game on TV.  Still, they were a tolerant bunch, and once the readings started, it was all good.

Our hostess, Elizabeth, made her introductions, and we were off.  Turns out, there were only three readers signed up.  The first person got up to read, and I listened intently while mentally psyching myself up.  I figured I'd have about 5-10 minutes to get myself ready.  However, the first reader shared... a haiku.  3 lines.  And there was no second reader.  So... it was all me.

As I stepped up to the mic, I decided that I wasn't going to just read.  I was gonna perform.  I started with a poem I wrote a few months ago called "Place for Rent."  The speaker is a busybody real estate agent, so... I leaned into and got into character.     

The audience listened.  No one booed.  I didn't die.  It was all good.

So much so, that after the next reader went, I got up again.  And again.  

As the night progressed, we heard some pretty amazing stuff... passionate, poignant, lovely.  For me the highlight was Deb overcoming her shyness and reading a beautiful poem she wrote.  Check her out:

My phone ran out of space, so I didn't get the whole piece, but trust me.  It was wonderful!

If you followed any of the links above, you will see that the bulk of what I read was pretty fraught. And that makes sense.  Most of what I wrote over the last year was HEAVILY influenced by the ending of a romantic relationship, and the self reflection and processing that experience prompted.  During that time, I was a prolific writer... I had so much angst and emotion in me that I had to get it all out - and luckily the paper caught most of it for me.  Lately, I've been feeling pretty darned good.  While that makes for a lovely life, it doesn't lead to much in the way of good writing.  Still the last poem that I read was one that wrote this week.   I think is more representative of where I am right now.  It's called "Maker."

So that happened.  And it was pretty great!

I can say that it's not easy to get up and bare your soul to an audience of strangers.  I was so stupid nervous!  When I watch these videos, I have to laugh a little at the fake sass I managed to conjure.  (Ok, not fake... exaggerated.  I'm plenty sassy.)  Still, I shared a little piece of myself with that audience, and the world didn't end.  In fact, it felt pretty amazing.  I highly recommend it!  Now go write something.  Or draw something.  Or sing something.  Or make something.  Because ultimately, it's not for the audience; it's for you.  Thanks for reading.

P.S.  If you want to read a whole bunch of angst filled pseudo-poetry, you can check out my other site: Biting Off More Than I Can Chew.   That's where I hide all the really embarrassing stuff!  -rfk

Blue

I've been feeling really off lately.  I can't quite put my finger on the cause.  All I know is that I've been feeling isolated, lonely, and blue.  I think I cope with it pretty well; I'm still doing the things I normally do, see the people I normally see.  I'm functional.  But everything feels... hollow.

I think part of it is, looking back on where I was a year ago I realize that, while I have grown a tremendous amount and learned SO MUCH, my life still just isn't the way I had hoped it would be.  I don't have anything figured out any better than I did last year.  In fact, I think I have to honestly say that I'm more tangled up now than I was then.

The thing that scares me is that I'm doing all the healthy, self care things I've learned to do, and the feeling persists.  I feel blocked and afraid - so much so, that it has taken me nearly 3 weeks to get these thoughts down in writing!

The worst part is that I can't really put my finger on what's causing this feeling.  Last year, my pain had a face and a name.  It was logical, explainable, relate-able.  This year, it feels like a gross oversimplification to attribute all these feelings to one singular cause.  I can't seem to put it into words, and that compounds the issue.

One of the things I have learned to do is to reach out for help when I'm feeling overwhelmed or lonely.  But how do you call someone up and say, "Well, I'm not really sure what my deal is or why I feel this way.  All I know is I feel really, really, really crappy.  Can you fix it?"  And when someone asks how I am, the only thing I can think to say is, "I'm mostly OK."  Because I am.  Mostly.

And how do you put it out into the world that you're struggling without coming across as an overwrought drama queen or an attention-seeking adolescent?   Aren't I, as a capable and self-aware adult, supposed to be able to handle my own mess without dragging others into it?  And how do you ask for help, when you have no idea what kind of help you need?

The only think I can think to do with all this is to just... own it.  This pain and discomfort is mine.  This is how I feel.  This is what I'm struggling with.  Maybe that's the most courageous thing to do.  Because just feeling blah doesn't make for a very compelling story.

I know it will get better - that this, too, shall pass.  But right now, I just have no idea how.

All I know to do is to acknowledge that right now, in this moment, things do not feel awesome.  And I guess that's kind of the point.

What a Difference A Year Makes

This morning, Timehop informed that that one year ago today, I published My List.  On one hand, that was a seriously quick year.  I feel like I blinked and it passed!  On the other, when I think about all that has happened in the last 365 days, it seems like a millennium.  And when I really stop to consider all the changes that have taken place, it takes my breath away a little.

When I embarked on this project, I think it's safe to say I was a little lost.  My heart had been broken.  While from the outside, it looked like I had it all figured out, inside I didn't feel certain about anything.  I didn't know who I was.

Or rather, I had lost touch with who I was.

I always knew, but it was very hard for me to accept and love that person. I lived my life afraid to show who I was, because I feared judgement and rejection.  This project was meant to push the limits of my courage and goad me into living a more authentic life.

If I'm honest, I think this endeavor started out as a way to show the world I was worthy.  Hey everybody!  Look at me!  Look how BRAVE I am!!  But as time has passed, I'm the one who's been convinced.  I'm not quite done with the list, but I have to say that the mission has been successful.  But not in the way I anticipated.

It has been a beautiful, messy, exciting, clumsy, amazing year.  I have done some pretty cool things!  I have also fallen flat on my ass.  The beauty of the experience is that whether it's been a triumph or a failure, or somewhere in between, it's all been perfectly acceptable.  It's all been OK.  OK to celebrate.  OK to feel sorry for myself.  OK to put myself out there.  OK to hide in my house.  I've learned in the last year that I'm OK.  It doesn't matter what fresh hell I am digging up, or what thing I'm obsessively worrying about.  I am OK.

So the project that started off about courage and authenticity ended up teaching me about acceptance and love.  And while I can't say I do it 100% of the time, I am much better at giving the acceptance and love that I always reserved for others to myself.

In the last year, I've really come to enjoy the person I am.  I've learned to cut her some slack - because she tries really, really hard.  I've learned to back off with the criticism and dial up the acceptance.  Hell, I've even learned to speak to her with kindness and affection instead of harsh judgement.  In taking on this project, I've learned to love myself - my real self.  Not just the fancy, flawlessly put together, competent face I show the world, but the mixed up, awkward, trying-too-hard, desperate to be loved one.

In the process, my ability to love the people around me has grown too.  I am enjoying my relationship with my children so much more. The mood in our home is lighter, more relaxed, more fun.  I am a  more patient, more loving friend.  I don't absorb the problems of those around me, and I am more open, more vulnerable and more willing to ask for what I need. I have removed many of the barriers I had built against love.  As each one falls, I find myself more and more ready to love and be loved.

That's quite something.  And it all came from making a silly little list of things I wanted to do.

Poking Wounds

I have a folder of emails that I keep buried in my in-box.  They are a sort of miserable greatest hits of the last eighteen months or so.  When the great schism happened, I went through and deleted 95% of the vast store of emails, text messages, and chats that I had collected over about 6 months.  If there was one thing we did a lot of, it was TALK.  Good gracious there was a bunch of it!  And maybe it's the teacher in me that led me to hang on to them.  I'm used to collecting artifacts and work samples to document everything.  For whatever reason, I kept a sample from the beginning, the middle, and the end.

These messages were all brutal to read.  The beginning ones - because they were so sweet and tender, so full of promises and hope.  The middle ones - because they clearly showed the fault lines that and signaled the descent that would end in flames and burning.  But the ending ones - the ending ones were hardest because they captured the immensity of the anger and hurt that eventually led to the final break.

Despite the fact that these were brutally painful to read, I had made a habit of revisiting them over the course of the last year.  Sometimes, it was because I was feeling nostalgic and needed a dose of reality.  Sometimes because I was feeling sorry for myself, and I wanted to fan the flames of my pity party bonfire.  Sometimes, it was a reminder of how far I've come from that point.  As the year progressed, I would use the hurt they generated as a measure.  Much like doctor may palpate a wounded area to see if it's healing properly, I would poke at my wounds by re-reading these messages.  I told myself it was to measure my progress -  to see how much it still hurt my heart, but I think there was some self-punishment at work there too.  Regardless of the reason, the effect was consistent.  Almost without fail, just opening the folder would bring on a wave of anxiety, anger, hurt and sometimes tears.  I would feel my face flush and get the feeling that the world was falling out from under me.

In the early days and weeks, I probed frequently.  I read and re-read them, forcing myself to feel every bit of it.  However, I found that poking at a wound too much hindered its healing, so as time went on, I revisited them less and less.

I stumbled upon this folder today while looking for something else.  I had honestly forgotten it was there.  In fact, it took me a minute to realize what was in the folder I had named "Brain Dump."  When I opened it and saw the index, I expected the flush, the anxiety, the hurt, the anger, the tears.  Instead, I got... nothing.  I opened one of the messages, and read over it.  I noted how overwrought our words had been - how loaded and angry - but the emotional wallop that usually came with remembering them was gone.

Could this really be the case?

I pulled up the worst one of the bunch. It was the howler that I could only bring myself to read a handful of times - so full of venom that I hated to even think about it.  There was a time when those words cut me so deeply that I could barely stand it.  No one had ever spoken of me - before or since - in such a harsh and hateful way, and at the time, it had cut me to the core. I trotted that one out when I was feeling particularly self-flagellating, and it had never failed to deliver.

Today, I didn't feel the need to even open it.  I knew that the things in it were not true, knew that the person who wrote it knew nothing about me - not really.  I also knew that the words contained in that email were so far removed from my my life as it is now that it was no longer a reliable artifact.  I had learned all I could from this experience.  I didn't have to keep poking.  The pain was gone.  It was time to let the rest of it go too.

I deleted the folder.

On Resolutions

Today is the first day of the new year, and as the relentlessly self improving woman I am, prior to today I gave some thought to my New Year's Resolutions.  It's kind of a compulsion, really.  I love to have a plan or a project.  I like something to focus my attention and effort on - because my brain needs the distraction.  And honestly, I think that the planning and action and reflection is good for me.  This time last year, I embarked on this project, and it led me to have one of the BEST years of my life so far.  What's not to like?

As I sat down to think about what I wanted to change, something strange started to happen.  I looked at the areas of my life and realized that I am pretty darned happy with the way things are.  My relationship with my children has never been better. They are healthy and happy, and we have a ton of fun together.  I have a job that I love and am challenged by.  I have a rich and varied group of wonderful people who I can call my friends.  I love and am loved.  I've become more honest and up front about my feelings and as a result, feel much more balanced and authentic.  I have a beautiful home with everything I need - including two furry beasties who love a good cuddle.  My financial house is (mostly) in order.  Life is... good.  Really good.

So this year, instead of picking something to overhaul and change about my life, I resolve to appreciate what I have.  I resolve to enjoy the unfolding of events and to savor the sweetness of my days.  I resolve to accept (and maybe even celebrate) my imperfections and to learn from my mistakes.  I resolve to cut myself some slack when I don't get it just right and to give myself some credit when I do.  I resolve to love myself as openly and deeply as I love my friends and family.  And I resolve to be here now.

So the projects and the goals will have to wait a little while, because this year, I'm going to be too busy being grateful.  Oh, and eating more vegetables.

May your New Year be filled with love, joy, peace, and all the things that make you happy.