Time

Sitting down to write on this day off, I realize that outside of work I'm always pressed for time. I pencil in everything else that I have to do on these two days in order to keep my life afloat and balanced. Grocery, dinner with the kids, yoga... how ironic it is to have to plan for what ought to be spontaneous!

Work, in it's rigidity provides the safety of knowing what to do next, which is precisely why it's loses flavour and leads to boredom. We deal with the same people everyday and go through the same eight hour routine to keep the big machine running. Just show up, stay within the lines and check out at six. Because it's so redundant, I often find myself fantasizing about my weekend wishing it would come sooner. I tend to think that life happens only on weekends because then everything is organic and therefore fun. Instead, I worry about maximizing this freedom by planning my days off. But the truth is most of the time my calendar is filled with obligations, home admin and chores. In the end I find myself needing to relax even before my Friday comes while an evident scenario with nothing organic about it plays out as a threat.

But.

When I peel the onion of this routine, I find so much life in it.

 This week, my son turned twenty seven. During our dinner celebration (check), I listened to my kids updates on work, school and love lives. It surprises me how they know what they're doing; how wittily and humorously they translate their experiences over a meal. They're responsible and independent young adults today. Their minds are open, curious and they are daring. They're also honest about their feelings and no nonsense about heart issues, which continue to confuse them. I laugh at a slightly mean streak each one possesses and am thankful that this not exceed the maximum cute level. I think. Whatever.

Yesterday my boys showed up by my side to to comfort a friend who lost her brother. These days I no longer impose, you see. I try my best to leave them the option of doing what they think is best. I want them to make choices based on their personal truths and values. Last Monday, I sent out a group SMS with the details of this sad event and suggested that we all go. That's it. One by one each RSVP'd back. Daughter had to work which is just as responsible, but the boys said they would pay their respects. Now, I acknowledge that a memorial is a difficult occasion to attend. Nevertheless, my youngest drove with me to Concord and my oldest met us at the service (check). The gesture of coming alongside each other and showing up as one speaks of an unspoken language peculiar to a strong family bond. To experience this with my children when least expected and without maternal coercion is what it's about. We sat together and condoled with the family. We reached for each other during the heart tugging parts of the eulogy and sent silent messages of "I'm here" through hand squeezes, humbled by the vulnerability of life. Later, I watched them interact with others. My boys are cool, confident, articulate and well mannered. They're lighthearted, sincere and empathetic. I was told over and over again how endearing they were. I am so thankful that they're mine.

Time flies and now I've been a Mom for twenty seven years. I still don't know what I'm doing. But life happens inside it's rigidity after all. Last week this was a mere to do list. Proof yet again that I have a powerful Partner in life although He may not be visible. All I need to do is walk the line cause He fills up the spaces in between and surprises me to no end.

So here I am checking off my "write blog"  bullet point while the washing machine is running (check: laundry), counting the hours before jump starting my work week. Wait. Why count down? I'm on my way to a sleep over (check: drive south, spend night). There I will relax and watch what else happens.

God, you're the Man.

Thanks.

Glide

"You have no choice on the matter Mama. I made the dinner ressie for us", was my daughter's text to me last Saturday evening.

Raising my four children as a single Mom, after yet another failed marriage since their Dad and I divorced, has been quite a burden to bear. It's not so much the financial hardship that was the case but rather the unrelenting, festering remorse that came with breaking those hearts combined with  ... well, the perfectionistic inner voice of a self proclaimed .. what? What the heck. Now that I'm writing this I see how insanely spun out I've been over this issue through the years. I should have been born a cartoon. I would have gotten away with it. I had so much angst and confusion and was driven by all kinds of fear, wondering what was yet to come.

In the cusp of being single again and transitioning from my divorce six years ago, I sat on park benches, in my car, on my bed and prayed desperately. I prayed hard for solace and answers. I had no idea how our lives would turn out and absolutely needed to know. Why in the world did I have to know? In that life I wanted answers all the time. Today, I am almost sure this was the flaw that often misled me. Rainier Maria Rilke wrote, "Live the questions." Hmmm. Try to wiggle yourself out of that one and see if you can convince me that you're not a control freak of sorts.

Life is the best teacher but it doesn't hand out quick results. What it does is bring us to a final breaking point and then offers us a ride. We may resist but we will have no choice. It will take us. If the road is bumpy it's because of our refusal to glide.

In the beginning, I was convinced I was victimized. I over dramatized my situation and studded it with blame and a refusal to see my part. Finally, when I got tired and came to, I began to own up by breaking things down to bite size pieces. Little by little, I learned to clean up my side of the street. Strangely, I also found it in me to be grateful because finally my path was clear and I could see where I stood. I knew exactly where I was. I embraced the new found ability to clean house, became amazed by my surroundings, be present for my children in conversations and daily relational circumstances. I could sit with myself and enjoy the scenery, my coffee, a good book, the sun. I developed a strong sense of trust in that divinely designed route created just for me. Moreover, I learned to accept the reality that the same was true for each of my kids. I had done my best with what I had on my plate and learned to give myself grace for it. After all, not once was I ever short on love for any of them. Not once did I ever give up the fight for them. It's just life, it's curve balls and the best that a young mother could to do at the time. Then and only then did I realize that my new life had taken off and I was,  at last,  gliding.

Let me tell you one thing: If we are not obsessed with results, our best shot is honored. It's always enough. And this comes from a place inside of us that says, "I am enough." What a lovely surprise it will be when it unfolds in it's time.

"Order what you want and don't be cheap cause I'm treating", giggled my 21 year old angel as we sat down to dinner in Benihana. 

"Happy Father's Day Mama."

At that point it was a matter of eating everything in sight or falling apart in public. I figured I was finally entitled to the more pleasurable aspects of life.

Not baaaaaaad.

                                       

"...I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything  unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms  or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers,  which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future,  you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."                                                                                                                        Ranier Marie Rilke

Slow

These days I have been testing the waters of the dating scene again. I have been abstinent from relationships since 2010 when I decided to immerse myself in a journey of hard inventory taking. I learned to work through my fears and resentments - the ones that drove me to think, act and hide the way I did when things got real. I linked arms with other women and developed a tush-saving-sisterhood that no man could ever beat. I discovered my voice and learned to speak out my truths and my wants. I am learning to ask, connect and practice courage by reaching out instead of pulling in. I have come to realize that I do this with ease and clarity today. And I do it well ..... with women.

My relationships with men were always driven by mad passion which I mistook for love. The next thing I knew, I was depressed, divorced or both. Today, I understand that love is not just a feeling but rather a decision on which a commitment is anchored. Lust however is pure feeling. It's a drug that takes us out fast while we lose ourselves in that carnal whirlwind for two. When that gets old and we are exhausted we pull away. Then we realize that we never knew our partner and that there's nothing left to share. My experience has been to freak out and run in the opposite direction as fast as possible. Up to two years ago, my relationships were like this: fueled by full steam drama and then escape.

Today, I am taking it slow with someone who may or may not walk forward with me. The pieces are fitting themselves slowly, little by little, but in meaningful ways. I was apprehensive when we first met in March because his approach was direct and unfamiliar. Now I realize his style is simply straightforward. Unlike others, this is a man who seems to have a steady presence and could potentially be emotionally available. Who knows. I'm not sure I know how to handle this. I've never engaged this type before. But when an opportunity came for us to exchange emails a few weeks ago he said, "I would like to try again." This time his clarity of want resonated and I began to consider that I might finally be drawn to a better breed. So I walked through that open door.

Since then we've dated a couple of times, text and call each other consistently. We've expressed a mutual need to take it slow even if I don't know what that means or how it's done, despite the incredible heat brewing between us. We share a journey of truth based on mutual spiritual beliefs and a desire to keep life simple. I like it and I am thankful for it.

But I don't know how to do this. I'm afraid and I'm not sure if I should walk forward. In fact, I don't even know if I'm walking properly because I sometimes feel glued to the ground too busy taming old voices.

I know however that if I listen to the fresh new voice of the woman that I am today who is honest, clear and true,  I will be OK. I just have to learn to go slow and enjoy the process of getting to know someone without being fixated on the outcome. That part is God's business.

But still. I am wary because I'm unravelling at this pace and I'm feeling quite exposed.

Now I'm lingering on the question, "Am I ready to be seen?"