Houses

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Tired today and not feeling my best. The last couple of nights I have had trouble sleeping.

Thoughts from the past have been mixing in with worries and to-do lists of today and prevented the quiet restfulness of sleep to bless me.

The memories are wispy and hard to grasp onto. The vagueness of them is as distressing as the actual memories. Without clear and concrete imaging it is hard to deal with them – to bring them into clarity and bid them goodbye.

Last night as I was finally drifting off to sleep I heard the phrase, “she grew up in houses without windows”.

I remembered it when I awoke.

This journal page is the places I remember living in as a child and teenager…they are not in order. I’m not sure where Dallas fits in and I know that there were sometimes multiple houses in each city.

Other than our time in Huntsville, Texas attending Sam Houston State (where my husband and I met) and a couple of years in Alabama where my husband attended Auburn University, I have spent my entire adult life in the area around Austin.

My kids have grown up here.

They never had to be the new kid.

Lost and Found

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I picked that quote because I have no idea what this drawing is about.  It just happened and is in no way my normal thing, but I kind of like it…I imagine that more work will be done on it in the future.

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And in other areas of my life – this quote fits today.

Yesterday, we went to drop off a car load of de-cluttered stuff that had been piling up in the dining room.

We visited a new thrift store set up in an old house.  I naturally ended up in the kitchen where there were lots and lots of cabinets with the doors removed and painted a beautiful clean white.  On display were lots and lots of beautiful dishes.  It was a dangerous situation to be sure.

As I browsed and enjoyed the abundant wonders, I thought about how amazing it would be to have a kitchen that looked like that.  I have a kitchen with still unpainted cabinets, half-redone walls, missing trim, a plywood floor and dirty dishes.

Then I stopped.

Nothing in that room would make my kitchen look any better.  Adding more stuff would make the issue worse – no matter how beautiful the item is in its current setting.

I am blessed to have a kitchen with electricity, running water and working appliances.

The rest will come with time, effort and money.  The money will come if I quit spending it on comfort purchases and attempts at quick-fixes.

Buying and acquiring stuff is an emotional response that I have developed over the years.

The clutter is a symptom that I have been attempting to deal with.

That doesn’t work out too well in the long run.

You feel better for a while, but you’ve only treated the symptom.  The cause is still there and inevitably the symptoms will return.

I believe that I clutter to try and protect myself from the difficulties and traumas of my childhood.

A scared little girl wanted to buy the pretty dishes in an attempt to make everything better.

I am not that little girl any longer although she does live within me.

I think I am finally reaching a place where I am realizing that I need to become the adult who heals the scared child within me.  She doesn’t need more stuff.  She needs to feel protected.

I need to address the problem and not just the symptoms.

I can’t keep ignoring the fear and trying to live as if its not there.

The fear is just as real as the clutter that I try to bury it under.

This is feeling a bit like an overshare, but I know that I’m not the only one living with either the fear…or the clutter.

There is another empty box waiting in the dining room.

What will I find to put into it today…

And what will discarding it reveal?

Peace.

 

 

 

Once Upon a Time

Journal page number…

Just my opinion…

So much noise

So much activism

So much pointing of fingers

So little love

At the end of this chapter

How will the story read

I believe that nobody will win

And there will be no happy ending

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If an act is done out of love, but requires an act of hate or violence to accomplish it, how does that work out?

I believe we call it war.

And we are fighting ourselves.

The Sky is Not Falling

Two days fraught with anxiety brought on by my own lack of mindfulness. No journal pages and no progress on the house.  Loss of sleep and busywork that has little to show for it.

Nobody to blame but myself, but mistakes happen and it’s okay when they do.  I just need to learn (or relearn) from it and move on in a more intentional way.

I need to remember that my anxiety is a living entity that can be controlled, but never eradicated.

And one of the symptoms of my anxiety is that I tend to take personal responsibility for everything.  Then the depression hits because I can’t do enough.

In a group situation where a problem is brought up, I think it must be me.

Someone says they need to talk to me about something, I wonder what I’ve done wrong.

Something needs to be fixed, I try to figure out what I should be doing.

Sound familiar to anyone else out there?

The specific situation that triggered my anxiety this time?

The border crisis, of course.

I have a lot of friends who are social activists. I have conservative friends and liberal friends.  I have friends who rant and rave, and friends who quietly go about making the world a better place (I have to say that I like them best).  I do believe that it takes all of us working together to get things done.  but it doesn’t seem like we are doing a very good job of that right now.

This post isn’t really about what’s happening in the world right now.  I’m aware of what’s going on in the world.

But the sky is not falling.

Bad stuff is happening.

And worse stuff than that.

That’s not new.

Good stuff is happening also.

That’s not news.  It doesn’t sell or raise ratings.

My anxiety prevents me from taking responsibility for the world.

I can live with that.

In fact, it’s the only way that I can live.

I’ll take my philanthropic advice from Mother Teresa…

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So, I’ve blocked a lot of folks on facebook.  I’ll continue to use it to keep in touch with friends around the world, but not to be told that I don’t care about the poor children because I’m not hysterically posting hateful words (and yes, I was accused of not caring).

The news is off for now.

And I’m going to focus my attention on my actual neighbor that is in danger of losing her family’s home because life has been particularly challenging.

And I’m going to take care of myself and my family because I do care.

I care an awful lot.

 

 

All Shouting at Once

This journal page was done yesterday.

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And then today, I witnessed yet another disturbing incident on facebook.

A friend posted an opinion on another friend’s post.

A differing opinion.

And she was attacked.

Hateful vitriol.

There is no other word for it.

And she wasn’t wrong.  Her comment had merit.

It just wasn’t the “popular” thing to say.

It brought light to the fact that the issue is not black and white.

There is no easy answer.

And I have to wonder…

Where is conversation?

Where is discussion?

Where is respect?

And in this instance, where is the Christianity?

Have your opinion.  Have a strong opinion.  Believe you are right…

March, gather, protest, follow your heart and work for change.

But never forget that the person you are sharing words with

OR

throwing words at…

Has an opinion.

And is a living, breathing, feeling human being…

With their own story and beliefs.

What about being quiet for a moment and listening…

Where is the love that you profess to have for humanity when you can’t treat a differing opinion with respect and dignity?

And all that I can think and believe is that when hate is the response to a differing opinion there is no winner.

We all lose.

Love loses.

Peace.

 

Anxiety Doodle

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Yesterday’s journal page – an anxiety doodle done throughout a very stressful day.  As everything worked out well by the end of the day, I cut up the “anxiety” and glued it to a page.

The day started out rough.

First off, I noticed all the little things that were undone around the house and began by wondering if taking the time for art was worthwhile.  The dishes undone, the laundry undone, the trash the dogs got into strewn around the living room, and the half-finished decluttering and organizational projects all about.

Next, we had to deal with the car issue.  Our credit isn’t great,  we had a limited amount of money to work with, and we really don’t want monthly payments.  Also, sharing my daughter’s car with all of our schedules is impossible.

I like shopping for cars almost as much as I like hanging out in the DMV or the phone store.

In other words, not at all.

My family pulled together, started the search and headed out to solve the problem while leaving me at home to make peace with our home.

(and find peace for myself)

They can be simply amazing!

By the end of the day they had purchased a good, solid used car well within our budgeted car repair fund – newly established by our recent windfall.

It’s not even ugly! It’s a sharp-looking Volvo station wagon type vehicle.  Lots of room for our lifestyle, but not too big to drive comfortably.

And although the house doesn’t look significantly better than it did this morning:

  • we have enough clean clothes to make do
  • there are some clean dishes to eat off of
  • the trash is gathered and to the curb for pickup tomorrow
  • and, most importantly, it looks like home through my eyes

Anxiety dealt with and disasters averted.

Life is good!

Peace