I am back in my home after travel for Christmas with my family at my parents’ home. So many wonderful thoughts and experiences swimming inside my mind and heart. I have written a million words in the days since I last wrote here, just haven’t the time to capture them all in a keystroke.
But you can bet that I will. Be patient. We can explore that virtue together, but I’ve always lied and said “patience is a virtue I do not possess.”
I am assembling my tools for my recovery and I also realize that I need to go and sit down next to my husband in the den. I have fallen so in love with becoming a better me and what I need to collect, read, write, do, and color to wade through this soul work that I may just have neglected getting hugs.
Meanwhile – mainly, Day One without the CRUTCH of alcohol has consisted of a heaping lot of “the waterworks.” Only, this time, tears that I wore with a badge of honor. This is the one. I feel it in my bones. I AM DONE. By using the crutch, I was choosing an injury. No thank you, getting rid of that.
Finished Saint Anne’s Imperfect Birds on the ride home and began the other book I also purchased some time ago and put on reserve in my bookcase, and was MAGICALLY led to select for this, of alllllll trips. You can’t make this shit up, y’all. First book finished in 2017 will be The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. My life’s story is in the introduction, that’s as much detail as I can spare. If I were to try and collect and explain the signs from the Universe that spilled out for me this time, I might never get that hug, so maybe I can get back to them in some detail later.
I’d have to be an absolute moron to not trust that I am right where I need to be in this very moment and the tears have been the kind that come because you are just in awe with how you are at one with yourself and you cannot remember the last time you felt that way – that you are making the absolute right decision.
I unpacked a little and focused, really focused on listening to myself and using my breath and awareness in the moment to help me navigate the challenges of my life after a nine hour car ride with a challenging family dynamic and what someone besides myself would call a fragile middle-aged woman operating a little (or a lot, on edge). The breath catches a good bit in my sternum, but I talk it into traveling deeper.
And the tears flow and my youngest asks questions and I tell him the truth. And the biggest truth I tell him is that it is okay to cry (I PROMISE that typoed as: “cray”) and be moved and in touch with things and to allow your feelings. I just happen to have A LOT of the weepy ones just about now.
But, I’m good. Really good. Here’s a killer tune to boost your mood or keep it there if you need it. The artist Birdy caught my attention earlier this year. As a child of the eighties, it’s been a rough year for beloved and addicted artists, but SURE AS HELL a 2 x 4 for a knock, if I ever saw one.