Category Archives: Life

My Mother, the Nun

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Alright, my mother isn’t, and wasn’t ever, a nun.  She grew up wanting to be one, but life has a way of trading dreams on people, and I was the first trade-off.

Her life wasn’t anywhere close to a serene cloistered order.  I wrote a little about that in a post called ‘Someone to Watch Over Me’.

Her adult road didn’t include even following the tenets of her early faith.  The closest to church involvement was the annual search for one that held summer camps for kids.  That was her summer break and our free annual vacation.

What she ended up doing mostly was working 12 hour days in emergency first-aid and security detail.   A few years into this industry, she’d re-found her faith, but it could never be used as any kind of vocation. Those 12 hour shifts were an economic necessity and there are few comparable offerings in the faith field.

So, it was long days until retirement at age 71.  By then she wanted only to putter, and maybe volunteer a little.  She’d already started going to church regularly again, and she helped the Reverend here and there.  Their pleasant working relationship became true friendship. She had no idea this would cause her earliest reveries to swell again.

One day the Reverend made her an offer.  Would she like to be a lay-reader?  She would only have to study some, and practise the rituals in assistance for a while.  She was instantly transported to places of long ago innocence.  Her sixty something year old dream, a little re-shaped, finally got her to that place that was always meant to be.

Mom vestments October 2013-2

Kicked the habit, made good in
vestments
My mother,
Lay-Reader

RL

Blogger and author JT Weaver posted a challenge to write stories in the 270 word range. For some of us, this is like requesting a brush-cut after we’ve been used to only a trim up to the hips. In the end though, it’s made me appreciate the less is more doctrine even more.  JT’s challenge idea was inspired by the “Hemingway Challenge” and Abraham Lincoln’s succinct Gettysburg Address of 270 words:
jtweaver.net  (2014 – 01 – 11- the-270)

P.S. This exercise also taught me that WordPress includes the captions on photos in their word count. I did not.

103 People Unfriended Her, How Many Would Do the Same to Me

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freshly-pressed-rectangleI came across a Huffington post about a woman who posted pictures of herself on her Facebook wall that caused a collapse in her social circle.  The headline said “When Beth Posted These Images on Facebook, 103 People Unfriended Her”.   

The headline effectively grabbed my attention, but what the story really did was zero in on the heart of one of my own deepest fears.  It cut to a deep vulnerability that even I don’t fully understand, but it’s one that has held me back from engaging as fully in life as I possibly could.  I can’t do that until I can somehow get to a place of true peace about it.

canvas-scars-e1402024284679The pictures that Beth Whaanga, the woman in the Huffington piece, posted were semi-nude images of herself featuring her scars from a double mastectomy and a hysterectomy.  They were taken by a photographer leading a project called, “Under the Red Dress”. It endeavors to share a pictorial story to inform and support anyone who has or may be affected by breast cancer.

I found the project a beautiful and amazing effort and I applaud Beth’s astonishing courage. It was those 103 friends though, that stayed with me longer than the point of her story.  They represented the maybe 103 reasons I have an issue of my own.  Like Beth, my body has been criss–crossed with several large and deep scars, not from cancer, but another serious chronic issue. I find despite my confidence in life generally, I haven’t yet been able to re-gain confidence about this new reality of my own image.

I know some of my friends might be surprised to hear this, but maybe not a few who knew me from long ago when I was more carefree in my pre-health issue, pre-pregnancy and pre-surgical body.  I received plenty of positive attention back then, and I am sure that, despite all equality efforts to move past this, I won some business benefits because of my appearance.  Looks matter.

In seeming contradiction to what I’m saying so far, I do have a full life, in large part because of those scars.  My priorities absolutely honed in on family, community, purpose(s), and I do live to serve as best as I am able, but.  But.

  •  But now there are tremendous differences in my body and there’s not much I can do about it without the resources that I might employ if I had them.
  • But now I don’t know how to dress in ways that are really about highlighting my best, and not hiding the changed stage starring scars that come through the fabric.
  • But I have no idea how many more scars will be added.
  • But I don’t want anyone to see them. Hey, when even your loved ones grimace….
  • But what if I really like someone and then….?  How many of the 103 are on my path?
  • But what if I’m not enough for someone to see past them?
  • But, what kind of person would be attracted to this? Ugh! What kind of person would be attracted to this?

Cripes, I didn’t even want to tell anyone I had them, and now that I have, it’s still safe to say that there will be no pole-dancing in my future.

Yes, I know I am not my scars.  That, on the surface of it, considering that I have been able to claim at least 4 of my 9 lives, this shouldn’t even be a factor in my world.  I’ve been told to wear my scars proudly, as the badges of (literal & figurative) survival. Truth be told, I would say the same to someone else.  So then, why aren’t I able to do that for me?  Why can I stand up for Beth, but not me?

I’m one of those people who believe that there are no real coincidences and that I was meant to see this story.  It compelled me to review myself again and honestly and directly confront the part of me that holds me back from feeling whole again.  I believe in my whole spirit, but I haven’t yet worked out how to truly infuse that into my life experience.  I know that next to that, one new step is allowing me to entertain the idea of another relationship. (Yes, girlfriends and parents, I know you think the time for a new man is overdue, but…).

In the end, I have to live with myself, and I find that hard enough in some of the ways I’ve shown.  I’m not sure if I will ever live with someone else again, but if I decide that’s for me, I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to get to that place of peace first.

So there, I’ve said it out loud. Sort of.  Maybe this note is about just getting to honest acknowledgement that this is real for me and the real me.  Perhaps the scars are a step in my overall purpose. Maybe someday I will be as brave as Beth – not for  pictures, but in her confident acceptance.  I don’t have the answers yet, but I hope to one day.  This is a story written mid-struggle.  For now, the only thing about life that I’m certain about is it’s uncertainty, – and how much I love my boy.

RL

Ever Been Properly in Love?

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There was a talk show on CNN some time ago, in which the host always asked his guests, “Have you ever been properly in love”?  Of course that always got his guests wondering or reminiscing, and so, I did too.  Forgive me a few moments of sentimentality. It is Valentine’s season after all.

Valentines-Wallpaper- whiteI realize as I’ve got older that I have been properly in love many, many times.  Hey, keep calm and read on, it wasn’t all hormones.  I don’t mean just in the romantic sense that Piers was inquiring about, but with all the wonderful friends that I have known over the years. They may have come and gone, or come and stayed, but I am forever changed by the genuine love grown between us.

It’s the kind of love that inspired countless shared hours of deep laughs, light fun, brilliant thinking and inspiring ideas, and so many fabulous occasions. It is the kind that offers a solid place to lean on while navigating troubles and sorrows.

It’s the kindness of love that draws us to each other maybe for only moments in shared interests and similar stories, or for a quick friendly review of talent or taste.  Of course it has also taken my hand and flipped me flat out on the threshold of deep resonating romance, and then even permanently tied me to the indescribable heart-song of my child.

Love is a song made of infinite notes; it’s a never-ending tune that rises and fades like all dynamics of life.  There are no real endings because even after we’ve moved on, we left the trail of what we gave.

And so,  after all of this, yes, I would get to answer that question, yes. I have been properly in love, many times, maybe always. And, actually, isn’t that really the truth of us all?

Happy Love Day!

RL

Never Dare A “Jurnalist”

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So, there I was, all comfy in full – all.by.myself.because.everyone.else. was.drenching.themselves.in.Super.Bowl.madness – mode.  I was happily reading in said football free zone peacefulness, when all of a sudden, I felt an instant flash of heat swell up from deep within.  At first I couldn’t tell if it was because I’d reached another poignant moment in Ned’s book, or from an overdue hot flash, or from the jarring fact that my own disheveled mug suddenly appeared out of nowhere onto my laptop screen.

ned-with-press-card-copy-2

Ned Hickson, Journalist & Author

True to his threat, Ned Hickson published my review of his book.  For those unfamiliar with this hilarious journalist, author, and part-time volunteer firefighter, I highly recommend his blog, ‘Ned’s Blog’ for a daily shot of hearty smiles and laughs, and of course it goes without saying that at least twice a day, in only merest homage to football, I whip out and flail the biggest golden pom-poms around his book, ‘Humor  at the Speed of Life’.

Enlightenment by Ned

Official #1 (and only) Ned Groupie.
I follow him (virtually) all over the world.

Have a look and a laugh at how he put my review together, and then maybe also consider ordering his book. I guarantee you’ll work up some heat with all the ha ha’s.  Click on this link to see the review:  http://nedhickson.com/2014/02/02/according-to-this-review-my-book-could-be-the-next-magic-8-ball/

Cheers to the Super Bowl winner, whoever you are.

RL

Beware of Bloggers, and Other Success Warnings

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Recently I witnessed two prominent blogs, each followed by several thousand readers, cause disturbing ripples across the blogging community.

Although I’m fairly new to this arena, I did have contact with both of these bloggers, but it was minimal, and so I watched the dramas unfold from the safety of the periphery.  Nonetheless, it left me unsettled and a little disconcerted.

Writing gifOne of the blog-sites fully imploded due to revelations of wide-spread improprieties toward other bloggers that included bullying, coercion and sexual harassment. That site’s owner/writer ended up closing down that blog and all its associated webpages, but it had run for quite a long time prior because the harassed had been intimidated into silence.  The other had to deal with a very strong backlash regarding a post in which he called out another blogger as less than worthy of public acclaim.  This one also closed, but only temporarily, presumably to lick wounds and regroup.

In both cases, regardless of how much damning proof there was, there remained for both of these bloggers a strong base of supporters who were willing to excuse and even completely overlook the accusations toward these, their heroes, and for many, their  ‘on-line friends’.

In retaliation of the revelations, these supporters were also more than willing to demonstrate their solidarity by writing the victims and/or injured parties and their followers to demean and belittle them and the charges, some even issuing threats. This is a pretty strong example of when people don’t like to admit they’ve made a mistake – especially about someone they look up to. Especially one that questions, “Was I a sucker”?

Each case reminded me of the often repeated cautionary tales that we speak to our kids about when it comes to internet usage – whom to associate with and what we choose to post online.  It also reminded me that we have to re-think how we make heroes out of appearances of success.

In the blogging world, a successful following and  wider readership is attained through, in large part, making mutual blogging contacts and following each other’s work,  but like our warnings to our children, we also need to be more discerning about with whom we choose to support and associate.

In the pursuit of success, we too often, and easily, make heroes out of those we see as triumphant.  We hope to be able to tag onto their success and open opportunities for ourselves.  At least, that’s how it supposed to work and really, that’s how the world has gone around forever.  However, applauding success doesn’t require falling down in worship.

The last few weeks have served as a tough reminder to many of us to remember to be responsible for what we say publicly, or be willing to take full responsibility for the results, and it is also a reminder to behave; act with decent propriety and respect.

In the interest of general face-saving and self-preservation, we should also pay attention to that old adage of listening to our gut.  Follow our heart in what we want to say, but definitely pay attention when our Spidey senses start tingling while we’re writing, reading, or in a discussion.  Let’s face it, in this realm, we really don’t know who we are be-friending. If we back-off from something that feels wrong, that’s a win.  Maybe we will miss out on a chance to step up a notch, but it’s far more likely that there will still be plenty of opportunities to grow.

The last thought I took away from all these events, is yes,yes, yes it is OK to stand up for yourself, respectfully, when you’ve been wronged.  Even in the blogosphere, no one is too big to have to own up to bad behavior.

RL