Track Meet Schmack Meet

Yesterday afternoon I spent almost four hours with my 40 year old ass planted on the very hard ground of a very steep hill while I watched my youngest daughter compete in her first middle school track and field meet. The weather was absolutely perfect for this kind of an event, but by the time we finally left I had a headache the likes of which can only be caused by some sort of demonic possession. Needless to say, I was in quite a pissy mood as we began the drive home. But then my girl said something that stopped me in my tracks. She said that she was happy and that it was the first time she could remember being happy after participating in an athletic event. A little background here. My girl spent over five years doing competitive gymnastics. She lived and breathed the gym. Her best friends were there and she was literally there more than she was ever at home. During those five years she competed in countless gymnastic competitions all over our state. And as good and talented as she was (and she was really, really good), she was never happy when a meet was over. She would spend the whole car ride home feeling sad; feeling like what she had done was just not good enough. No matter what I would say to her, she was just sad. But she loved the sport and loved being at the gym, so we just kept on keeping on. Finally, at the end of last summer she made the very mature decision to say goodbye to gymnastics. She was getting ready to start middle school and wanted the time for other sports and other activities. This year she has made countless new friends and has been active at school; she ran cross country in the fall and has joined student council. She has even joined a local crossfit gym so that she can stay in the shape she has been accustomed to. And I have watched her grow into herself and just blossom. This spring it was a given that she would join the school track and field team. She is on two relay teams and does the long jump. And you know what? She is really, really good at it. But as I was driving home with a nauseatingly painful headache, she said the words that sealed the deal for me. She was happy. And when I took a minute to glance at her in my rearview, I could literally see the happiness pouring out of her. She was glowing. I thought about watching her run during the meet. I remembered the way the muscles in her legs flexed as she pushed them and how as I watched her make the long run around the track it just seemed effortless for her. I remembered watching her soar through the air as she jumped. It was then that I realized something. Many times when we have the courage to say goodbye, we leave the door open to be greeted with a new hello that will be wonderful beyond anything we could have ever imagined. Here's to new hello's.

Well This is Embarrassing

So here is a confession. I haven't been to this blog in almost seven years, and for the better part of those seven years, I forgot this blog was even a thing. Saying that sounds so clever in a way. Yes, my life has been so full and busy and beautiful that I forgot I was trying to find myself and I didn't ever feel the need to write at all. What a crock of shit. On the one hand, my life has always been full and busy and beautiful. Never easy, but always beautiful. On the other, my willingness to forget about who I really am and who I really want to be has led me down a path that I'm not proud of. When we attempt to run away from ourselves there are always consequences. In my case that means an eating disorder and weight gain. Awesome. Don't get me wrong. There is not anything inherently wrong with a fat body. There are all different kinds of bodies and all of them are okay. But the eating disorder? Yeah, there is something wrong with that. The hate for my body and complete disregard for all the wonderful things it can do? There is something wrong with that too. And it is not strange at all that as I have spent the better part of the last year learning to appreciate and even love my body just as she is while marveling at her powers and abilities, I have also been feeding my spirit's desire to make things and to meditate and to write. Learning to be completely okay with whoever and whatever you are? Yes, there is such power in that. Onward.

in need of some libation

today is one of those days where large quantities of alcohol seem like an absolute necessity. sadly, i don't have any alcohol at the moment.
i normally deal very well with stress. i mean, lets face it folks; my lifestyle means that stress is a given. most days i tough it out and come out on the other side feeling a-ok. today i feel like the next person that talks to me might get their eyeballs gouged out with an icepick. okay, so not really. the point is that today is one of those days where i've just had enough. so of course that means it is also a day where work is crazy and my kids have apparently forgotten how to listen and have become the spawn of satan.
exercise would be good right now. but i can't take a run because my oldest child is not home, and even in my mentally disturbed state, i still realize it is a bad idea to leave 3 children ages 7 and under at home alone. the house might be a big pile of ash when i returned. and no, i don't do exercise with dvd's. i need fresh air. truth be told i haven't had the time to run in months. with the schedule that we keep around here i'm going to have to start getting up at the asscrack of dawn every fucking morning if i want to get a run in. and i'm not a morning person at all. i hate morning, in fact.
sex would be great too. but i'm kinda tired of the solo kind, and it's not like there are any hot men knocking down the door. and i think i'm hot, so i'm not sure why i'm currently stuck in an involuntary 6 year bout of celibacy. celibacy sucks. sex is good. at least i think i remember it being good.
so obviously that only leaves booze. and i don't fucking have any. excellent.

what i know

for me, the hardest thing about writing is to decide what to write about. sometimes i have so many ideas swirling around in my head that making sense of them is nearly impossible. and sometimes i have no ideas at all. perhaps the best piece of advice i was ever given in order to conquer writer's block, is to simply write about what i know. and so for today, this is what i know.
i know that for perhaps the first time in my life, i am so comfortable with myself that i truly like being me. my thirties are my favorite decade so far.
i know that i fiercely love and cherish my children and that even though i struggle so thoroughly with this thing called motherhood, it is the most meaningful thing i will ever do.
i know that even with all of the stress and extra work that comes with being a single parent, i am so completely thankful that i get to raise my children alone. there is a peace that i have as a single mom that i never ever had as a married mom.
i know that there is more for me in this life than working a government job. i am thankful for a steady job that enables me to take care of my responsibilities, but i know with everything that is in me that there is something else out there for me. and it is spectacular.
i know that i love the smell of rain in the spring and the smell of brisk cool air in the fall.
i know that sushi is good and that i love wine.
i know that a good laugh can give me that extra push that i need to make it through a rough day.
i know that there is no replacement for the love of a good family and good friends.
i know that i love to cook and that there is comfort in what ultimately happens when i mix yeast with flour and water.
i know that i will get past this. that i have to get past this. because there are words inside of me that are fighting their way out.

enough

i am a writer working a government job. that makes me no less a writer. it is my fear that makes me less a writer.

The Thorns in my Feet

This last weekend, I watched the movie Amazing Grace with my oldest daughter. This movie chronicles the life of William Wilberforce, a man who dedicated himself to the abolition of Great Britain's slave trade in the 18th Century. This is one of the best movies I've ever fucking seen, and regardless of your religious persuasion, I heartily recommend it. When Wilberforce entered Parliament he was 21 years old. He was young and full of vigor and dreams. But year after year as he introduced his Bill to abolish the slave trade, and year after year as it was defeated, he became haunted by nightmares filled with the slaves that he felt he had failed to save. He became discouraged and angry and his health began to suffer. At one point in the movie Wilberforce is running through the grass with his friend William Pitt, who was consequently Great Britain's youngest Prime Minister ever at 24 years of age. They are racing in their bare feet, and their heaving breath is warm and forms clouds in the air as it meets with the cold. Pitt knows that Wilberforce is discouraged, and as they walk away from the race he says, "Why is it that I only feel the thorns in my feet when I've stopped running?"

And all I could do at that point was to sit there and say, "damn." You know, I believe that each of us has a purpose. Granted maybe we're not all going to be Prime Minister or work to make the laws in our country, but a purpose is a purpose no matter what it is. Our world is affected each time someone achieves their purpose, just as it is affected each time a purpose is ignored or brushed aside. Maybe your purpose is to be a great parent. Or maybe it is to be a great teacher or a great friend. And maybe you're like me. Maybe you know what your purpose is and maybe you've just decided that you're trapped in your own life and your purpose just can't happen. But what the hell is that all about anyway? I can only be trapped if I give my permission to be trapped. And honestly, that's what I've been doing. I've been walking around on the grass feeling the thorns pierce the bottom of my feet, all the while making a million excuses for why I can't do what I believe I was put here to do. Really, I'm just being a giant chicken shit.

I've only got this one life. I've got one chance to run the race and make a fucking difference. Yes, my life today is not what I planned for when I dreamt about my future. Life has thrown me a million curve balls, and none of them have been easy. But why am I letting them define me? Why CAN'T I achieve my purpose? I really have no excuse. None.

William Wilberforce kept running. Even when he was all alone, even when his health was failing him, even when he had been defeated over and over and over again. And you know what? His purpose was fulfilled. He lived to see Great Britain abolish it's slave trade. What would have happened had he given up? What would have happened if he had decided to walk along letting the thorns pierce his feet?

And what the hell am I waiting for? It's time to run, dammit!

I've been thinking recently. I've been thinking about how I treat myself and how I think about myself and how I dream for myself. And quite honestly, I'm disgusted. I spend a good portion of each day filling my body and mind with unhealthy stuff. I constantly tear myself down in my mind and with my spoken words. And it seems that some time ago I lost the ability to really dream. And that is just not okay with me. And so, I am going to start acting like the goddess that I am. This is a journey to change my thoughts, my body, my outlook, my self.
So, I'm going to start by answering the questions that appear in the badass quote at the bottom of this blog. And then each day I shall approach that day with the answers to those questions in mind. Each day I shall see myself as the manifestation of the Divine that I am. I'm not dumb enough to think that this will erase all my negative thoughts and actions. No, this is a journey. And this blog is a chronicle of that journey. I give myself permission to fuck things up over and over again, and to ultimately change the path that I am on. So, here we go.

If I treated myself like a goddess for a day, I would do only those things that affirmed me and affected my life in a positive way. I would stand outside while it snowed with my arms outstretched and my face looking at the sky. I would relish each individual moment spent with my children. I would take time to write a poem.

If I treated myself like a goddess for a day, I would feed myself whole natural foods that fuel my body and give me energy. I would stop filling myself with sugar and fast food that are not only making my waistline expand, but ultimately shortening the life that I share with my family. I would take care of myself with the same dedication and devotion that I take care of my children. Because they deserve a mother who is whole. I would revere myself with a positive thought while glancing in the mirror.

If I treated myself like a goddess for a day, I would create prayers of thanksgiving. I would spend the whole day reminding myself of everything that I have that I am so very thankful for.

If I treated myself like a goddess for a day, I would create a ritual of honoring my body. I would take a bath, washing each part of myself while speaking of the beauty and originality of each part. I would speak words of love to the body that has heard so many words of disrespect and hate come out of my mouth.

If I treated myself like a goddess for a day, my name would be Sophia because I want to live knowing that true wisdom knows that it knows not.

If I treated myself like a goddess for a day, I would wear red. I would go head to toe in hot sexy red, because I am a hot sexy goddess.

If I treated myself like a goddess for a day, my worshipers would consist of only those who recognize that they too hold the Divine within them.

If I treated myself like a goddess for a day, I would expect to be treated with love.