Look Now From The Place Where You Are


New beginnings sound like something exciting, something adventurous. In order to experience a new beginning, however, an ending must be acknowledged and accepted. Truly believing there is no way to alter an ending, especially when that ending was not how you wanted things to end, is outrageously difficult. It is hard for those who have not experienced it to understand, but even when that ending is death of someone you love, it’s very difficult to accept the finality of it. The acceptance comes in fits and starts. There are fits of raging against the world that it shouldn’t be this way. There are desperate cries of sorrow and pleas for an altered ending. I am becoming convinced that the only way to defy the disbelief, to nudge into the acceptance, is to focus on what God has planned for your future, even when it wasn’t the future you planned. In fact, especially when it looks like this isn’t the future you wanted, it’s important to lean into God’s new plans and have faith in them, even when it feels like there is no hope.

Several times in the last three weeks, God has brought a specific passage from Genesis into my path. Imagine that: Genesis, defined by the dictionary as “the beginning or origin of anything,” is the place I’m found studying and pondering.

Abram, eventually to be renamed by God as Abraham, has been waiting for the fulfillment of God’s promise to him. When they arrived at what Abram must have assumed was the Promised Land, his nephew, Lot, took all of the best areas of land and left Abram with the rest. Abram must have thought something like, “Your promise was for leftovers?” but:

”The Lord said to Abram, after Lot had parted from him, “Look around from where you are, to the north and south, to the east and west. All the land that you see I will give to you and your offspring forever. I will make your offspring like the dust of the earth, so that if anyone could count the dust, then your offspring could be counted. Go, walk through the length and breadth of the land, for I am giving it to you.”“
‭‭Genesis‬ ‭13‬:‭14‬-‭17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

In a different translation God said ‘Lift your eyes now and look from the place where you are.’ He was saying don’t look behind you because there is nothing left there for you. Don’t look ahead into what you think should happen or should have happened. Look from the place where you are and, in that, keep having faith that I will do as I promised. My promises were never contingent on whether this would happen; I already saw this coming and I have prepared.

One of the most difficult things about grief is not constantly looking back at what was and also not looking forward at how wrecked what-should-have-been now is. It’s really hard to look from the place where you are. It feels as if disaster surrounds you from behind and ahead. Everything in the now is challenging and leads you to wish for what was and worry about what will be, but we are called by God to be thankful for what was (what we were blessed with in “the before” because it was beautiful and we loved it and them) and to trust His promises for the future.

One of the things He has steadily promised me was provision. I constantly feel internal pressure to do something to make sure His promise comes to fruition. I’m in a challenging place right now and I’ve been instructed to wait on the Lord and to trust and believe in His promise. I’ve been called to be still, which is not a strong attribute of mine. In my heart I truly do believe in Him and His voice. Still my nature consistently challenges me with “what are you doing about it?” Even when I know there is very little I can personally do to alter outcomes ahead of me.

I’m also challenged by purpose. I was a wife, a mom, and a “Lolly” (grandmother) and those were my identity. I’ve lost an identity before and it hurt tremendously, causing me to question who I was as a person if it was not this. I am a nurse by licensure but I’ve known for a long time that God was redirecting that calling on my life and had new directions for me to walk. I thought that direction was wrapped around being a good wife, mama, and Lolly, but a huge part of that identity is gone now that I am a widow.

I’m faced with the question of where that leaves me because it feels as if there is a gaping hole in part of who I am. Multiple people have said things to me about “finding a new husband one day.” This leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. While I do know that people mean well and, to them, they are offering me a new sense of hope that one day this hole will be filled, my husband cannot just be replaced. I don’t think that, when one loses a child, people would just say “well, just have another one; that’ll make you feel better.” And while I understand that I do not have any idea what God has in store for the rest of my life, that is absolutely something in which I have no interest at all right now. Honestly, if that ever was God’s intent and part of His plan for me, He would have to essentially, figuratively, drop someone in my lap for me to even consider it; even then it would be a challenge to navigate my way through the emotions that would surface as a response.

The overarching theme here is that I have to look now from the place where I am. I cannot look back toward what shouldn’t have happened (only at the joy and blessings that my husband brought to my life.) I cannot look forward as if it were a puzzle I am capable of figuring out; I say this meaning that, although we do make plans, I cannot determine the outcome of my life. I don’t know if I will die tomorrow or not for fifty years so trying to make a plan that encompasses what the rest of my life will look like is foolish. I have to look from where I am now. One step at a time, one day at a time. There are no shortcuts or crystal balls. The world works in such a way that new beginnings don’t just come the day that you are born. Learning to walk is a new beginning. Starting kindergarten is a new beginning. First love is a new beginning. Marriage is a new beginning. Having a baby is a new beginning. Divorce is a new beginning. Scott was a wonderful new beginning but now I am, once again, at a new beginning.

Becoming a mama was a new beginning for me, almost 26 years ago. When they moved out, it felt like an ending but it was really just another beginning, a different but still lovely path that has led to one beautiful granddaughter (so far.) I have to learn that my husband physically leaving this earth as another beginning. I didn’t like when my kids moved out on their own. I still miss them when I’m not with them. The same for my husband. I never wanted this particular new beginning. But I had to continue when the boys went out to spread their own wings. I had to learn to look from the place where I was then and begin to take steps toward being a mom from a distance and what that would look like.

Today, I’ve already begun my journey as a widow and I’m still figuring out what that looks like for me. I don’t know exactly where it’s going to take me. I do know that God already knows exactly what that looks like in my future and I wholeheartedly trust that he means it for good and not for failure. That’s where I’m standing right now, looking from the place where I am, knowing that I will be okay. I will have joy. I will have purpose. And I will always have a God who loves me and wants what is best for my life. I’m going to follow that lead.

You Can Do Hard Things


Last week I received the proofs for my husband’s headstone. I had to check that the dates and spellings were correct and then sign and send them back so they can start making it. (There was a spelling error in his name so I sent it back with corrections and now wait to have it sent back to me again.)

I went there, to the place where you order them, about two months after he transitioned to his new home, his new body, his new life. It’s taken me until now, almost seven months since he was here, to make a decision and move forward into this next season of finality.

It seems there continue to be moments that scream to me “he is really gone” but I still cannot fully accept it; I feel like that will sound strange to anyone who hasn’t been faced with this kind of grief since it seems obvious, but I can tell you that my brain doesn’t comprehend the reality of it all completely. Each event tends to catch me by surprise. I went to finalize the design for the headstone three weeks ago but it still caught me off guard when the proof sheets arrived in the mail. And, again, I cried. I was broken over the loss and the conclusive, the unavoidability of it all. I wonder sometimes if these will always keep happening, as long as I’m earthside, or if it will always feel like my heart breaks all over again.

Also, I ordered a double headstone. There is something surreal about seeing your own name there, even though the birthdate is followed by a dash and a blank. I’m going to be cremated but my boys will take part of the ashes and put them with Scott. The only thing I hate when thinking about this is the pain my sweet family will have to endure whenever God calls me home. They know where I’ll be then, but I know where Scott and that helps but it’s still a painful thing, to no longer have someone you loved and counted on to be here.

I don’t know why I came here to write about this except to say “I did it.” Like going to have my husband’s phone turned off last week, it is something I have put off for many months because every time I tried, I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready to face yet another permanent reminder that he is gone. I’m still not ready but I did it scared. I did it hurting. I did it because he deserves something beautiful at his body’s final resting place so that people will see his name and know that he was here.

God and I have been having some talks about this whole situation lately. Talks about guilt. Talks about anger. Talks about forgiveness. Talks about trust. For those of you who don’t think it’s possible to have a two-way conversation with God, there’s not a more gentle way to put this but you’re wrong. These talks are not a monologue of me pouring out my heart. We actually had a full-on argument this week at 2:00 in the morning. He countered every objection I had and, eventually, I knew He was right. What that talk was about is a story for another day (soon) but the point, for now, is that we’ve been communicating, which didn’t happen for months. I was too lost and in too much pain to seek Him. He was always right there, in it with me, but there were just no words because I was wholly and completely incapable. But now, although I don’t always like what He’s trying to tell me, I’m hearing from Him nonetheless. Having that kind of conversation, where you understand what He’s trying to tell you and recognize where it’s coming from, it takes discipline, time, and an open heart but it is 100% real. You can take that with a grain of salt, you can take me at my word, or you can refute it as hard as you want. You won’t change my perspective because I’ve experienced it first-hand and have seen results in my life because of it. I think these conversations have had a lot to do with why I was able to start doing some of the necessary things. Yes, it would be possible for me to do these things as a human out of touch with God but I know it made it easier than it could have been.

God doesn’t just speak to ministers and pastors. He’s speaking to everyone in every walk of life. A lot of people don’t expect to hear from God at all but, in reality, He is speaking to all of us. He is speaking to you. You can’t hear Him and do what He says unless you’re listening for Him. If you would like to hear Him speak to you, the answer is to be reading your Bible, spend quiet time telling Him what’s on Your mind and that You want to hear Him, and preparing your heart to receive from Him, to hear His voice on a regular basis. If you cannot distinguish whether it is Him talking (it’s not audible for most people but you’ll “hear” it inside your head) just know that He always speaks truths from the Bible; if what You hear doesn’t agree with the Word of God then it’s not Him. Often, honestly, He says something that I feel like I don’t really want to hear because my mind wants to do the opposite and then I hear Him telling me that’s not the right thing to do. Like being angry and withholding forgiveness, for example. But he also often tells me things I want and need to hear – things that help me know how to pick up these pieces of my life after the shambles it’s been in for the last seven months. In fact, even when it’s not something I really think I want to hear, it is always helpful if I’ll be obedient and follow through on whatever He says.

God is not a tyrant. Turning your life over to Him doesn’t actually constitute the loss of your power and control of it. You’re still free to do what you want but you learn that His way always has a better outcome. I’ve come to learn that even when He tells me to do something I don’t want to do, I can still trust that it will all work for my good once I’ve done that. I’ve also learned to (most of the time) do what He suggests as soon as I hear from Him. He is a gentleman and He won’t force you; if you need to see more consequences of your own actions before you listen to Him, He’ll wait. I’m still stubborn sometimes and try on my own awhile longer but I always eventually remember that His ways are indeed higher (smarter, more powerful, causing better outcomes) than my own.

I’m doing the hard things now. For months my house looked like more and more of a shambles because I didn’t have the energy or motivation to tidy up. It seemed pointless to me. I also know that my life feels more “put together” and less stressful when I’m living in a reasonably organized and clean environment. So I’ve compromised on this (also due to prompting from Him) and am doing one or two small “projects” a day. This still felt pointless in the beginning because when you only do one small thing, the rest of what is not “fixed” yet just overpowers the efforts of that little area. Now, though, I’ve gotten through enough that, although there is still much to be done, I can see that it’s beginning to feel better, look better, little by little. And that’s how God is with helping us to become more like Him. He doesn’t say “you’re a Christian now; I’m gonna need you to stop everything you’ve ever done that doesn’t agree with my Word.” No, He picks up one thing at a time, holds it out to you, and says “I’d like you to try to start working on this; don’t worry about the rest – we’ll get to it later, after you’ve had a chance to adjust to this one small thing.” I love that about Him because He doesn’t instigate a feeling of overwhelm; He is the One who pulls me out of it.

Wherever you are in your grief journey (or whatever other difficult journey you are traveling) I hope you can reach out to Him today so that He can show you the baby steps that will help you to survive and, one day, thrive in it. That is my prayer today for both me and for you.

But I like my head in the sand…what???


Have you ever found yourself wanting to just drop away from reality for awhile?  Things get complicated or overwhelming or even downright frightening and you just want to disappear from that part of life while finding a tiny season of blissful forgetfulness and enjoyment?  Oh, brother, I have.

I love my children and, overall, my life, with wild abandon.  We deal with trying times (after all, I have a teen and preteen now) and difficult days  but, through it all, they are mine, this life is mine, and I will never cease seeking the answers to why it didn’t go a certain way or how it is “supposed to go” from this point forward.  I know there are times that I have done it all wrong.  Am I doing it right, now?  This is not purposed by self-denigration but, rather, by a yearning for self-discovery.  I think that, overall in my life, I have typically been in such a rush to be happy that I have taken enjoyable moments and made lifelong decisions based on temporary enchantment.  At some point, I look back at said resolutions (and revolutions) and think….”why didn’t I just slow down and try a little objectivity before that one?”  I can actually often look back and remember hearing a little voice inside my head saying “This is probably not the best decision but, well, you’re happy right now; feels good, right?…You can figure out how to be happy again after this happy wears off…”  Ughhhh.  I’m disgusted with the asinine absurdity of that whole idea and yet, yep, that’s been me.  Most euphoria is temporary but it’s circumstances can take much longer to be relinquished than originally embarked upon.

Take marriage for example.  A happy “honeymoon” period is like the teasing and tantalizing effect of a drug.  Exhilaration, euphoria, optimism, mirth and enchantment are your companion emotions at the start.  At some point after that, however, the desire to run away will surface.  Somewhere along the path to longevity, I think we all find ourselves in a spot saying…”what did I get myself into and how can I get out?”  Now, I’m not saying that everyone should get out at that point.  This is just the moment of truth at which you make a decision to stand and fight for it and for a better understanding of how it should work, sit and cower under the feelings of self-pity and self-loathing, or jump ship and run like hell to the nearest exit sign as the fire licks at your heels.  The “drug” wears off and the low kicks in.  Or the hangover, if that’s easier to understand.  And this doesn’t have to be about marriage.  Pick your own analogy and insert here: ________.  Chase high, escape low, ad nauseum with no completion.

I think I often want to spend too much of my time with my head in the sand.  I mean, ostriches are kind of cool birds.  Granted, they have the mental capability of a toddler in a peek-a-boo routine (if I can’t see you, you can’t see me) but they are still regal in their own way.  Or if I take a deep breath once in awhile and plunge my head beneath the water, it is quieter there.  The sunlight glitters across the bottom of the cerulean pool, chaotic noise is dramatically muffled and the weightless feel of the gentle rock, to and fro, of the water is calming.  If I didn’t need to breathe, I could live there…well, except that divas don’t actually like to get all pruny.  But we can choose to take a break from reality sometimes.  The “I need to run!” urge can be settled a little as long as the break is temporary and is not a way to avoid truths.

So, how does one decide whether the current longitude and latitude of life is the vacation spot or the permanent homestead?  I need to learn a long-sought ability to step back from a situation and to veritably see some kind of truth in it.  Is the run-and-hide instinct just a product of my miserable failings prior to this intersection of life or is it a visceral instinct, animalistic and primal in nature but necessary for survival?

(((sigh))) Just new…well, maybe not so new but resurfaced…points to ponder for the day…and night, as it would seem.  Somehow it feels as if a fairy princess dress and tiara with some rockin’ high kicks (sparkly ones, of course) should just fix things.  Diva dreams…

Journeying to Self-Discovery: Being happy even if others try to prevent it…


Oh, to understand the purpose of some of the trappings of this life. This entire year, thus far, has been a whirlwind of chaotic interruptions to what I only want to become a peaceful existence. One thing I have begun to realize, through all of the disaster-overthrown days that seem to be plaguing me is this cliche’-type platitude that is suddenly making the sense of an unexpected epiphany: You can please some of the people some of the time, all of the people, some of the time, some of the people all of the time BUT you cannot please all of the people all of the time. Right now, I want to be pleased with me, whether everyone else is or not.  Period.

I have always been a “people pleaser”. When I was married (the first time), I didn’t like to make waves. I wanted peace, even if that peace was at my expense all of the time. If it meant that, in order to keep harmony, I had to ignore things that hurt me and pretend I was happy, that is exactly what I did. I didn’t want my children to live through unhappiness and strife. I didn’t want them to have to survive a divorce. I didn’t want to have to survive a divorce. I kept the peace by backing down. One day, I learned that my kids were surviving a terrible marriage and that two peaceful homes, albeit separate, rather than one home with quiet tension that could be cut with a cheese knife might be less stressful for them.

As I went through my divorce, I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible so that the kids didn’t have to deal with the fighting. I didn’t want to fight. I hate confrontation. So I did not fight. I gave into everything except the custody of my children and he could have anything else in the world that he wanted. That included the fact that he paid no child support and got the land we owned that was already bought and paid for while I received the mortgaged house. I decided that I could raise my children myself and that one day they’ll know I worked hard to be able to provide for them. I know there are those of you who will feel like this was the cowardly thing to do and that I should have fought more my to “make him pay, “ monetarily. I still believe that the kids would have suffered more if during the onslaught. He’s happy, they’re happy and I am capable of being what they need when they’re with me (or even when they aren’t), even if it doesn’t mean that we’re rich or affluent. I still do not regret that decision because I truly feel that they would have been hurt even more for my pushing these issues, no matter how much I tried to shield them from harm.

Today, I am realizing that I no longer want to please everyone. I mean, don’t get me wrong…it does bother me when people don’t like me. That being said, I have learned to look at WHY they don’t like me and ask myself “Is that something that I am willing to change about myself? Do I like that part of who I am or is that a fault I need to work on?” When my answer is that I am perfectly happy with whatever behavior or attitude or verbal exchange that seems to have made the person in question unhappy with me, I can say…”This is who I am and I’m content with that. What they don’t like is their problem; it is not mine.” This is not something that I have ever found myself able to do before. It actually surprises me to have this thought process. What surprises me even more is that being able to do this is not out of bitterness. I don’t have an attitude that says “Whatever. I’m sick of trying to please people. Screw ’em.” Rather, I have a disposition that says “I am going to learn to be happy with who I am. If I am proud of who I am and how I react to circumstances, I am going to be happy with me and others, if they are worthy of my time, will be happy with me as well.” Do you know why this is so? Because there are people who will be jealous or have different opinions or will have been raised differently with converse morals to those in which I was raised. Those people may not agree with me all of the time. They may not even like me. I am okay with that. I am going to strive to be happy with me.

Now, I still regularly make mistakes with which I am NOT happy. I react too quickly to a stressful situation, with my children, for example, and allow anger to overcome good judgement. With my current outlook, however, I find myself quickly assessing my behavior and, when I decide I do not like my own response to the situation, I am able to expediently stop, take a deep breath, and then readdress with a more calm and worthy approach. Being able to redirect appropriately may mean walking away from the scene, rethinking my plan of action for a few minutes before returning and THEN starting over, but I am able to find the person I meant to be in the first place and the one I hope I am the next time something similar occurs. I am also quick to apologize to my children or others involved and let them know that I am not pleased with how I handled the event as well as that I will attempt to learn from it.

Okay, so, in deciding not to please everyone (some of them not even some of the time), I am seriously analyzing who it is that I want to be and how I want others to see me. When I say that latter piece, I actually do not mean that I want them to see me as someone they like. I mean that I am trying to be objective about how I appear on the outside (not physically but just as a human being, in general) and whether I’m happy with that. When someone else looks at me, am I able to be “proud” of the person that they see (whether they like what they see or not…this may be sounding confusing…)? What kind of legacy am I leaving, if you will. I am someone who loves her children with every fiber of her being. However, when I’m in the grocery store and they are all three grating on my nerves, for whatever reason or whichever antics they are displaying, I am likely to address them by saying “HEY! I’M GONNA BEAT YOU IF YOU DON’T STOP ACTING LIKE A BUNCH OF HOOLIGANS! CHILL OUT!!!” Now, some people may hear that and (self-righteously) think, “Man, she’s a mean mom.” or “Oh, my! Listen to how she just yelled at those poor little dears.” Anyone who actually has children, loves them and occasionally loses it (I believe that’s most of us.) will hear it, perhaps giggle, think to themselves, “Yep, been there, done that. She’s having a rough day.” and maybe even think “Way to get them back in line, lady.” If they DON’T feel that way, I still know this: my children know they are not going to actually be beaten, they know that this means I am nearing the end of my rope with them, however, and they also know, based on all of my OTHER motherhood behavior which strangers or friends may not always see, that I LOVE THEM and would do CATEGORICALLY ANYTHING for them. They know I have sat up all night for weeks at a time by a hospital bed, never leaving except to pee (briefly and with significant stress and bladder pressure to ensure it remained brief), as one or another of them was sick. They know that I have hostessed slumber parties with a houseful of ten children and made pounds of pancakes, created and played tons of games, allowed silly messes just because it was fun and found ways to make sure every kid had a good time. They know I have let them sleep in my bed and have picked them up in the middle of the night from someone else’s house, even after I had been asleep, because they were afraid or upset and wanted to come home. My children know the sacrifices I make for them and the things that I do just because I love them more than my own life, itself. If they know this, why on earth would I care what anyone else thinks about this?

At work, I am good at what I do. Occasionally someone does not like the way I handle a situation because it is not the way THEY would maneuver given the same occurrence. I think about how I dealt with it, whether there is a reason that it is not the “right” way to go about it or if a difference of opinion is the real problem. I am using that methodology to decide how to go on from there. Most of the time I am happy with the way I perform my career objectives and have no desire to worry another minute about what that other person’s “problem is”.  I am happy just feeling like I am doing the right thing.   If I decide that they have a point and I have to agree with their viewpoint, I am not reluctant to change tack.

Are you at this point yet? People have told me before to worry about me, be happy with who I am and let others worry about whether they’re happy or not. I am responsible only for my happiness and not that of anyone else (except my children, of course). Until I reached this latest, slow-dawning epiphany, however, I was not ready to understand what I had been advised. If you’re not here, you will be saying “easier said than done…you’re not like me”, in your head. I’m here to tell you that, be it age or wisdom, you will get here one day. If you are here, you understand what I am saying. Pipe up and let me know where you are in your own journey.

The Beginning of My Success


It is always difficult to begin a new journal.  I stare at blank pages and wonder where to start.  In order to begin, there has to have been an ending.  What has ended?  How does one ever know what “endings” are temporary and what is truly over…completed?  This past year has been riddled with changes and yet I don’t know what of these are starts or finishes.  As odd as that seems, it is but a miniature diorama of life.  I have learned one thing well:  the only constant in life is change.

Even love is not constant and is ever-changing.  The only constant love exists between you and God, who loves as an eternal parent even when you misbehave, and the love between a parent – the worldly kind – and their own child(ren).  This love is one that never, ever goes away, always grows exponentially and never fades…even when you feel it is undeserved.  Children will one day grow to understand this parental love (I hope I see mine grow to know it.) and only then will God’s love make more sense.

All of that being said, I’m looking at this new year knowing that all of the yesterdays have gone and I am left with a pile of total gains and losses to try to place in some assemblage of order so that I can start with a new plan of action.  I am not good with order and organization, however much I would love to be.

Where to start?  I know a few things that I want to be solid foundation in this particular beginning.

1.) I am an independent and strong woman.  I don’t need a man and his affection or love or expectations in order to live, survive and even thrive.  I won’t deny wanting to have someone near to care about me…someone who is there by my side when I am lonely, sick, scared or just plain happy and wanting to share that with someone special who will understand and be happy that I’m happy.  I do not, however, need someone else to make me happy.  I have learned that I am capable of happiness and contentment all by myself.

2.) God is an integral and essential part of who I am, deep inside.  He must become, again, part of who I am on the outside.  I will face challenges of the opinions of others during this conversion of appearance.  I have walked far outside the path of where I believe I am supposed to be. This, it itself, is a personal recognition of need and is not open for speculation or criticism of others.  To stray from my current path in an attempt to traverse rough terrain while laboring to converge with a path on “higher ground” will mean facing sandspurs, sharp rocks and steep, overbearing hills.  The worst of these metaphorical pitfalls are actually other people who seem to love nothing more than to tear down another.  I will walk among them, around them and even right beside them if that is what it takes to reach my desired and, yes, necessary destination.

3.) I will bring my children on every essential leg of this journey.  I always know they are watching me closely; if they can see the struggle of my exploration, perhaps they will be able to avoid some of the difficulties in the trek that I have taken.  I wish for my boys to never have to traverse the thorny fields I have travelled these last years, even though I have learned much and still experienced some great joys in the pilgrimage.

I hold these things up not as resolutions which I believe, by design, are destined to be broken.  I lay them before myself as a map to a new place.  I seek a place of peace, contentment and self-respect.  I want my whole life to have the sensation that I feel while laying in my big, comfortable bed, surrounded by my three boys and fluffy comforters, with a funny movie on the television and their giggles erupting around me.  If my whole life could feel just like that moment, my life could be nothing but a total success.

Nothing to Fear but Fear Itself


Worry.  Apprehension.  Uncertainty.  Vexation.  Disquiet.  Anxiety.  Doubt.

So many words to describe such a hazardous, emotional behavior.  I have always thought myself to be an optimist but have awakened to a rude new discovery.  Somewhere along the crooked path that has become the road map of my life, I have pulled a light-blocking curtain between myself and positivism.  My rose-colored glasses have become scratched and somehow their shape is warped, seeming to improperly fit my face.  Confidence, exhilaration, self-assurance and even sanguineness all seem to have taken flight as well.  These words, these “things” that once exuded from my very pores and encompassed my whole outlook on life and which also defined whom I was to others, now appear to have waltzed off in some lively dance toward another banquet affair that must have seemed more appealing to attend than my own.  My own soiree has somehow become less enticing to such honored guests.

Now, as I sit like a wallflower lamenting my misfortune at having been the less-appealing option for the ever-sought “popular crowd” of emotions and behavioral accoutrements, I am at a loss for methods of captivating their attentions once again.  How can I lure these seemingly elusive characters back to my daily demeanor?  I brawl daily with the darkened antonyms of my desired disposition, thrashing and deflecting in a fruitless skirmish against intangible adversaries.  I do not know how to struggle against the unseen or to traverse a path around their camp in order to reach my own prior enchanting encampment.  The glow of twinkling lights that identify the convivial mindset to whence I wish to return seem to tease and taunt me from the distance at times, but only when I even become aware that they have been replaced by sinister counterparts.

The metamorphosis of my overall perspective has been so subtle over many years that I scarcely noticed the change.  At one time people would have described me as buoyant, lighthearted, cheerful, spirited and positive.  I most always had a contagious smile and reflected a persona that was repeatedly referred to as “bubbly”.  With these personality traits also came encouragement and reinforcement for others who struggled against despair or even just a plateau of uniformity in their own lives.  I wanted others to be capable of experiencing the joie de vivre that I enjoyed.  I am perplexed by the realization that I am no longer that individual and by the oddly imperceptible journey that has led me here.

Yesterday was one of the days that allowed, nay, demanded that I recognize the transformation of my identity.  Having received news to be thankful for, the fact that I had fretted needlessly over these results for days struck me with the force of a lightning strike.  Minutes, hours, days spent imagining what would need to be done had the outcome been negative.  Everyone battles anxiety at times yet my “old self” would have said “don’t borrow trouble” or “no sense in worrying over what may not be”.  The concerns would have been floating around behind my thoughts rather than taking them over with the rumble of a volcano about to erupt.

Today I am searching for an alley in which to duck until the villainous qualities have dashed past my hiding place and lost me in their pursuit.  I want to stand quietly there until they are out of sight and then scamper quickly in the opposite direction towards my old companions whose company was always substantially more affable and satisfying.  Enchantment, vivacity, mirth and hopefulness must be just down the road, if only I can see the horizon on which the sun is setting so as to get my bearings…

Trudging backwards…wish me luck.