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Writings about death, relationships, feelings, and time |
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Expressing my feelings about death, the death of family members and friends, life and life's impacts. I hope to write poems about coping with death, life, family and friends, and getting the best out of life. Every emotion and every thought comes from living. I hope to live through my writings. Hoping to reach out and meet others where they are in hopes that any one of the poems will bring solace on some level. |
| Staying Alive How do you stay alive in the midst of death, sickness, disappointment, diseases, and a hot of other things that one by one take away you desire to live? Staying alive, not living, but honestly staying alive and enjoying the minute can be difficult, but it can be done. Over the past three years, I have chosen to stay alive. I was already living and believe that I will live until God calls me home and/or my ticket given to me at birth has been cashed. In the past, I had lived, taken risk, spoken out, enjoyed challenges, made waves, and jumped through a few hoops. But for eighteen years, I got up, went to the bathroom, got dressed, went to work, came home, talked on the phone, went on a few trips, came back and started my routine all over again. I played it safe. I was "fine." I didn't have a care in the world, and life was moving on. One day, I wondered what had happened to me? Where was that energetic and happy go lucky young woman that I had so admired? She had ceased to exit, and now only her shell remained. She had taken a wrong turn, and for those eighteen years, could not find her way back. She had stopped living. Living requires some effort. You got to want to. You have got to have a reason, and you have got to take the time to make it happen. The first step is to recognize that you want to live not just exit. Next you have to create situations that makes you reignite the process that made you so alive before or feel alive now. In my case, I had to get back out there and take some risk. For example a trip cross Country alone. Meeting new people along the way, and stopping whenever the car required gas. The second thing was to retake my independence. Cut the children and the grandchildren a loose. They would be alright even if I was not there. Third, stop hoarding the money. You can't spend it if you give it all away to other people causes, e.g., helping to pay the mortgage for this one, bailing this one out of foreclosure, helping this one through college, and that one get his car out of repossession. None of these things were for you, and no one will ever pay them back. In addition, hoping that they will remember and be there for you when you have need says that you are going to be waiting a very long time. Change your focus from the world to you. Changing your focus on the world to you sounds and feels very selfish. It is! That is not your natural nature, but to stay alive and to not just exist means changing some things. The easiest change in the world is to focus on you because it is the one thing over which you have control. Now, actually carrying this selfish act is much harder, but necessary. It's hard to say no to the children and grandchildren, especially when you have always said yes. But you must learn that no is an except able answer, It is also an acceptable act to spend your hard earned money on you! You went to work every day. You went sick, tired, and in all kinds of weather. you took care of your children. You were there for them through elementary, middle, and high school. You are probably still helping to pay off that college debt that you incurred to make sure that they could finish. You were there for the down payment on the house, and many more of their life occurrences. NOW, it is time for you, and guilt has no place. No is an acceptable answer. You do have a right to spend some of what you have earned on you! Yes, a $10,000 diamond ring is worthy of you. You earned it. A trip to the Bahamas is a must, if you have never been. A $75,000 RV is something you have always wanted and you should get it while you can still see to drive it. That cross Country trip is still calling you. Oh, and yes, that trip to Greece that you promised yourself as you chased children, changed diapers, and made sure that life was good for everyone else, is still up for purchase. You can go it alone or you can go it with someone, but you must do it. You are not getting any younger, and there is still a lot of life in you. You just got to get out there, take the risk, and live it. You can choose to stay alive or you can choose to just live, and one day accept dying without the memories of having really lived. I choose to stay alive!  |
| This thought came to me today as I visited for the first time with my Step-Son. I was overjoyed to meet him in person since I had only spoken to him a few times over the years. Years ago, I fell heads over heel in love with my now ex-husband. He was my first love, and on some levels, my only love. He spoiled it for me for every love since then. However, my first love had, and held onto secrets. Not once in fifty (50) year has he ever told me that prior to our marriage he had a son by another women. That information came several years after our divorce from his brother. You could have knocked me over with a feather. By the time I learned of his first child, I already had his four children, and had even named my first son after him not knowing that his first son already carried his name. Hurt. Pissed off. Angry, and finally alright, life moved on. This past week, my ex-husband's brother's wife was buried. For whatever reason, I chose not to go to the funeral. Most everyone else went including, three of my children, my ex-husband, AND his oldest son. No one told me about the gathering other than that the church was packed, and that they were glad that they had attended. I was glad that I had chosen to sit this one out. Today as I sat on the back porch office, I was very pleasantly surprised when my son-in-law dropped by to have a short visit with me and allow my grandson to say hello before going on to North Carolina. The greatest surprise during the visit was meeting my step-son whom I learned was now living with my daughter, his step-sister in North Carolina. All I could say was WOW! We chatted for about three hours, and then they had to leave for the drive back to North Carolina, and I thought, what an experience. I had just met my ex-husband's love child. The one that he never cared to mention to me in fifty (50) years. The child was/is the spitting image of his father, but has his grandfather's eyes. He has his father's mannerisms, but a happier spirit. He still feels the hurt and pain of being thrown away and forever denied his birthright, but in the midst of his pain, he was able to laugh, talk, look me in the eyes, and hug me in a way that said thank you for acknowledging me. I looked deep into his eye, and took every minute I could to get to know this child. I saw in him a young man that had pretty much raised himself. A brilliant artistic man who could have been anything in this world that he wanted to be, but for the denial, and the loss of his birthright. Without knowing this, he came across as a young man whose mother tolerated him, and his father abandoned him, and to hide his pain, he found solace in books, arts, crafts, and the written word. He was in pain and had no one to share it with. He did not have the love or the pleasure of growing up with his family in a loving and caring environment. During the two hours visit, he mentioned his father several times, but he referred to him as Dr., Mr., or your children's father. Not once did he refer to him as my father. He also mentioned that he only met his grandfather once or twice when he was very young although his grandfather was alive and lived a long time after he was born. He never mat his grandmother or great-grandmother on his father's side and they were all living, but have since died. He only knew his uncle who had made it his business to keep up with him over the years. He had talked to his father on the telephone maybe twice in fifty (50) years. Both had promised him pictures of his grandparents and his siblings, but no one had ever followed through. In the midst of his pain, however, he had grown up and now was a fine young man who made the conscientious decision that he would never have children. The risk was too great, and he would never want a child to live through what he has already been through. He is forever grateful that his father's other family, whom he left, but remained constantly in their lives, now accepts him as one of them. He is grateful and happy getting to know his sixteen nieces and nephews and his one great nephew. In the midst of his pain, he is slowly finding joy and happiness in the family he never knew. |
| Death and relationships can be painful, but so can other things in life. Learning that you have a disease for which their is no cure, AMD, HIV, diabetes, lupus, Sarcoidosis, and scleroderma jus to name a few. Each of these have future outcomes that cannot be stopped even with modern medicine. I can speak on two or more of these diseases with some authority. I have diabetes and AMD. Two first cousins have sarcoidosis and scleroderma. The latter two diseases have caused tremendous suffering to both. The diseases are similar in many ways and often confused, but the cousins know the difference. They also spend a great deal of time in hospitals, and doctors' offices. Following is a brief discussion of my conditions. Most everyone has heard of diabetes. It is a disease of the blood. When a person has diabetes, it means that they have entirely too much glucose in their blood. Too much glucose is a great danger to your health and may lead to other serious problem including age-related-macular degeneration (AMD). AMD simply means that the veins in your eyes are bleeding similar to a dam that has worked for years, and then develops a leak. You plug the leak, but the vein is no longer as strong. After several leaks, the blood that is leaking from the vein cause damage to the retina's central vision. You can see, but you have dark areas where you cannot see. you can read, but you may not see all of the word, but because the eyes compensate for what it does not see, you are able to determine what the words mean. The eye may no longer work well in bright sunlight. Dark glasses are needed almost 24 hours a day. Both are painful experience that one would want to avoid, but may not have the luxury of doing. Both are disease that you can live with, IF you choose to take the right steps to have them treated, and actually follow your doctor's orders. I am learning to live with both without fear. |
| Left for New Jersey at 5:00am. Arrived at Morristown New Jersey at 9:00am. The wake was just beginning when we entered the Calvary Baptist Church. The family arrived in numbers as did friends and well wishers. It was an experience. As people came and filed by the deceased, some paused, some stood for minutes, and others kept coming back. You could tell that it was hard to let go. You knew by watching those that were so emotionally attached that it would be days before they were willing to accept their loss. The mother sat in absolute amazement. She just sat and watched the deceased. She spoke very few words although everyone stopped, hugged her, and whispered a few words to her. After about forty-five minutes, someone said to her, "He should not be dead." The mother replied, "He is in a better place. He will not suffer any more." I watched the mother's body reject the idea, but some her fighting to accept the concept of a "better place." She retained her composure and her stare at the deceased. The funeral director came up and asked the family to come up to the decease and say their final goodbyes as he closed the coffin for the last time. The mother had to be helped up. She swayed lightly, but she managed to get up. She stood very strong as she watched the funeral director close the coffin on her son. When that was done she and the family turned and walked out of the church for the processional to come back in for the service. She looked straight ahead. The service began. The songs were song. Prayers were prayed. The program was read. His aunt gave reflections, and then the minister came forward with the eulogy. He said that it was a home going celebration, and that the congregation should rejoice. No one was rejoicing. A few were giving thanks with scattered amens, but people were feeling their loss. They were fixed in the moment of reality. The coffin had been closed. The pictures were removed. The deceased had been seen for the last time. Rejoicing would have to come later. So, as the minister preached about Jesus calming the storm and the sea, many meditated on the minister's text, "Peace Be Still!" At the very end, the funeral director came up along with his assistant and said, "ashes to ashes, dust to dust... The deceased was being cremated. His ashes were to be returned to his mother. The funeral was over. |
| Going with my girlfriend tomorrow to New Jersey to bury her cousin. A reminder that death is an ever present companion. When you think that you are alone and the world is going on, you learn that someone else is also going through the loss of a love one. They grieve. They cry. They laugh. They do all of the things that make them appear normal, until they tell you what is going on with them. Then you learn that you are not alone in your grief. Feeling sadness for my friend and praying that she and her family will grieve together through this loss, and come out of it stronger as a family. When you experience death, you suddenly become aware of it around you, and know that it must have always been there, but it was not so on your mind. You tend to forget how close death walks with you because you get so involved in everything else that you are doing. Then one day you get that dreaded phone call or a love one is told that they have terminal cancer or you see that special someone lose their life. Somehow you are reminded that your life is just as vulnerable, and that one day you will also have that same experience. You realize that death is also your constant companion. Death is one that you cannot shake, trade, or give away. Empathy with death, those experiencing it and those who are oblivious to it is in order and you feel its closeness in you. You know that your ticket is still open, and that bothers you because each of us would love to have some idea of how much time we have left. Well, some of us would like to know this information, at least until we do, then we don't want to know any more. Death is not a pleasant companion. Death signifies the end of life as we know it, yet it is also a part of life. That part that we would much rather forget, and we often do until it knocks again at our door or the door of someone we love. Yes, death is an ever present companion every day for someone in our world, we just don't always acknowledge its presence. |
| Letting go of a Family Member Lord, how am I to go on. Why did you allow men and women to create families. Love our children and dedicate our lives to making a close knit bond between us, to have them die. What do we do when one of us transition over into a world that we only have heard about/ How do we say goodbye? How do we let go? These questions have haunted me for most of my life. The first poem I ever wrote had to do with the death of a love one. The pain was so strong. The darkness of the moment overwhelmed me. Life as I knew it changed forever. Death had made itself known to me and it was real. The icy cold body of the dead, is not like anything else in the world. People are supposed to be warm and have their on personal smell. Yet death takes all of that away leaving behind an awful funk. You look at the person who you love and have loved for as long as you can remember, and you can't recognize him. You know that is your loved one, but your heart, eyes, and mind cannot cope with this person. Yes, you still love, but you can't love what is in front you. It is not my brother. He's not laughing or smiling or standing on his crutches. Instead he is lying there so still. So stiff, and so missing from his body. You want to cry, you want to stop crying, you want to run, you want to stand still, but instead, you freeze in time. Letting go of my brother was hard, but a few years earlier, I had taken some very serious steps in learning how to let go. After eighteen years, I finally began the journey of letting go of my Mother. This journey started with a visit to a nutritionist. As a way to move toward a more healthier me, I joined one of my co-workers on a visit to see her nutritionist. I was joined by my daughter. The session was for one hour. In the session, I was asked to just talk about me and why I was there. Of course, my reason was to lose weight. After listening to me for about forty five minutes, the nutritionist decided to give me some feedback before ending the session and next steps. What she said during her fifteen (15) minutes rocked my soul for months and months later. She said, 'The reason you cannot lose weight is not because of what you are eating, but what is eating you!" What? A few months later I took my trip to Massanutten. As I spent my relaxing time gathering my thoughts, and enjoying the scenery, I had time to ponder the nutritionist statement. I finally agreed with her statement. After crying my eyes out about the death of my Mother, I started thinking why am I crying, and the answer was just as instant. You are finally grieving the death of your Mother. For the past eighteen years, you have been angry, and upset over her death. You did not grove her death, you got mad at her and stayed mad. You never let her go. Yes, I was able to move through life and put on a perfect facade of having gotten over her death. I finished raising my children. I spent lots of time with my grandchildren. I went to work every day. I got re-elected to the City Council; ran for state senator and county council member, and I participated in a host of community activities and held many high powered positions. Everyone would believe that I was living the good life, and at the top of my game. No one suspected that I was in such a turmoil. |
| Letting go of my past does not mean that I am letting go of my memories. When I think about my life, and the many things that I have gone through, I still arrive at the the conclusion that I have had a very good life. In fact, I have had an exceptional life. However, i have also arrived at the conclusion that there is still some baggage in my life that I should let go. Sine 2010 I have been on a journey. I have traveled the distance of three full years. The journey has been hard, inspiring and enlightening. I have learned a lot about me. I have shed some very old feelings for some very new ones. I have not loss my sanity, but gained some new insights about me. For years, I clung to my Mother's death like it was the Holy Robe! Every day, her memory grew bigger and larger than life. She became a saint, and I could not let her go. Her ,memories were every where. Her pictures were throughout the house. Her clothes were still in my closets and her smell seemed to linger throughout the house. But, she was long gone. She quietly bid this world goodbye with a smile on her face at 5:03pm, November 29, 1993. I became froze in time. I was alone, at least that is how I reacted. My Mother, confidant, and best friend for life was gone. Her transition stole my joy for living. Almost two years earlier, my father had transitioned from this earth. His leaving did not leave me with a major void. My biggest emotion on his departure was when my plane took off from Fort Lauderdale on its with to Maryland. As the plane ascended, I suddenly burst into tears, and my only thought was, "ole Black Charlie" would never be standing there to meet me ever again. That thought made me very sad. Landing in Maryland, my dad was quickly forgotten, and life went back to neutral. Twenty (20) year later, my brother transitioned. I was numb. The last of my Mother direct seed remained only with me. How sad. Yes, my brother's children are here, and there are a lot of them. My children are also still here, and there are a lot of us. But, none of them know the first seventeen (17) years of my life. None of them can talk about our life in Screven. Not a one of them can remember what dog candy taste like or how cut up you got running through the cane fields. Those are memories that I shared with my brother. My brother, who toaught me how to shoot a b-b gun. My brother, who would not fight for himself or no one else, and made me the fighter that I am today because I fought for both of us. My brother who would sing his heart out in tune with the radio, and knew every make and model of every car or truck that was ever built. Oh God, what a loss, and what am I going to do? Move forward. Yes, I am moving forward. Moving forward means letting go of the past, and living in the present. Learning from my past and applying it to my present. Remembering my Mother, father, and brother with love, respect, and happy thoughts rather than with sadness and grief. I am faced with eternal grief or moving forward. I choose to move forward. |
| I could be the only person on earth that chose family over a lover. If I am, what a pity, but this is not about pity, but how I was able to let go of my lover. Some many years ago, I had the pleasure of actually falling in love a second time in my life. My husband, my first love, had been gone for almost ten (10) years, and our children were over the age of five (5). I was alone and taking care of four children and my Mother. One day a friend called and suggested we go out for the evening. We did. It was the best evening of my life. Sitting there on the bar stool was this handsome, dark, long, and tall drink of water! He was lingeringly sucking down a beer and taking in the room. Without a word or even hearing his voice, I knew that I wanted to get to know him. Quietly sitting down beside him, I bubbled over with my name, address, and anything else I could tell him. He listened, and then laughed out loud, and gave me a name that was just unbelievable. Benjamin Franklin Washington. Who would name their child such a ridiculous name? His voice was just perfect to my ears, and my mind locked down on his laughter. He made me smile. I was in love. I did not need to know anything about him. What I did need to know was whether or not he and I could become a couple. Without hesitation or even a second thought, he asked if I was spoken for because if I was not, I was now! Lord, help us all. I actually had forgotten that my girlfriend was with me, and she jumped in with "Are you going to introduce this dude to me?" Of course I did, and asked her to sit on the other side of him so that I could talk with him on the other side. Benjamin Franklin Washington and I became lover. My every thought seemed to focus on him and that was reciprocated. We met every opportunity to just talk, laugh, and tell jokes or simply to go for a walk in the park. We giggled often. We had many picnics together, and of course we made love often. He was my knight in shining armor and I was his Florence Knighting Gale. We were meant for each other. Our love affair lasted for several years. It could have gone on forever, but then one day, Benjamin Franklin Washington did not call or come by to see me. I worried about him and tried to get in touch with no luck. After a torturous night of waiting to hear from him, he called. Oh what a relief. Thanking God, I rush to pick him up from the police station. He was not under arrest, but was found beaten up in an alley in Georgetown. Georgetown? Why was he in Georgetown? His story was that he had gone out with some of his co-workers after work, and they ended up at the bar in Georgetown. They ordered beers, and then he did not remember anything else. Oh Lord, he could have been killed. Thankful that he was alive, life moved forward until one day while talking, he mentioned that he had to go to court for that incident several months earlier. Upon further discussion, he stated that he had drugs in his system when he was found in the alley. Unbelievable! My lover was a drug user. I was devastated. I have four children and my Mother living with me. Benjamin Franklin Washington and I had just signed on the dotted line to purchase our future home. My dilemma was how do I go forward with this man, and our relationship when he would be living with, around, and over my children. Heart breaking, I gave my lover his walking papers. I explained that I could not choose him over my children, and he walked out of my life. Benjamin Franklin Washington resurfaced one year later. He was in jail in New Jersey. When I got the phone call and heard his voice, my heart started racing, and I could hardly catch my breath. When he walked away a year ago, he did not look back, and I did not have any information on which way he had gone. His first words were very simple, "How is this arrangement working out for you?" "Are you happy without me?" Honestly, the arrangement was not working out, but I had learned to live with it. I had actually made some other choices with my life. I was reminded that it was better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Right! No, I was not happy without Mr. Washington. I was surviving. I was walking through life with my eyes wide open, but not with the happiness that I had found with Benjamin Franklin Washington. I wanted my lover back! After serving his term in jail, he returned. Oh happy day. He was just as I remembered. Older, but just as wonderful. He was still my handsome, dark, long, and tall drink of water. Oh how thankful I was for small blessings. Then one night on the way back home from work, I had an anxiety attack that we thought was a heart attack, and ended up in the hospital. With no one else there, I gave all of my purse to Mr. Washington. I remained in the hospital for three days. Upon being released, I immediately began trying to catch up on my bills and doing those things necessary to get back in the swing of things. Of course, I needed to get some funds from the bank. No bank card. Hummm. Off to the bank to get a bank card. Upon receipt of the card, I needed to get cash out of the ATM. No money. Impossible. I had just gotten paid. Back to the bank. My account was completely over drawn. Money had been taken out in segments of $300 over a period of several days. I explained to the bank my where a bouts for most of those days, and produced my hospital bill. Thank God for cameras, but oh what a surprise, and how painful. None other than Benjamin Franklin Washington, and he had disappeared. Gone. Nowhere to be found. He had flown the coop and was in Florida with his mother. Benjamin Franklin Washington had gotten away with more than $3000. He had taken advantage of my love for him, and moved on. My lover was gone. Anger. Desperation. Disgust. All of these emotions were flooding in and I was feeling like a fool! I had taken this man back even knowing that he had just gotten out of prison, and his past history of drug use. I wanted to believe that he was innocent. He was my lover. My man. Now this. Benjamin Franklin Washington was gone. Several years later, he resurfaced. My phone rang, and the voice on the other end, rekindled my emotions. However, my mind remembered, how that same voice had caused so much pain. It remembered that this handsome, dark, long, and tall drink of water had robbed me blind when I was in the hospital. The anger returned, and even as he asked for forgiveness and promised to repay the money, my heart could not would not forgive. I wanted no part of Benjamin Franklin Washington. I would hang up the phone and wish that he was still here. For weeks and months and years, this scene would be repeated over and over again. Finally, one day, Benjamin Franklin Washington called, and said that he was going to be a father and that he wanted to marry the woman. He wanted his child to have a real family, but he could not do that, if I would not forgive him, and give him permission to move on with his life. I cried as I said, Benjamin Franklin Washington, I will never forgive you for breaking my heart, but I give you permission to marry and take care of your new bride. I was not to hear from him again for many years. Years later, as I sat and wondered about whatever happened to Benjamin Franklin Washington, I thought I would search the internet to see if I could find him. I found a telephone number for his mother and father. I called it. I learned that his mother had died; that he had gotten married, and had a son. He was living somewhere in Florida. I was hurt to learn that his mother had died. She was very nice to me, and I thought she was very special. I did not ask for a telephone number for Benjamin Franklin Washington because I wanted him to be happy. Thoughts of Benjamin Franklin Washington still brings a smile to my face. I can still see my handsome, dark, long, and tall drink of water. I realized that I wanted him to be happy. I also realized that somewhere inside of me there were still feelings for my handsome, dark long, and tall drink of water, but not like before. I was even a little jealous of his new found happiness, but I did not want him back. For a few seconds, I thought I would break out in tears, but I did not. I questioned those emotions, and learned that I had let him go. I was, in fact, happy for him. I so wanted to see his young son. I wonder, if he will grow up to be a handsome, dark, long, and tall drink of water? |
| Bad feelings seem to just sometime show up and take a seat at my table. Uninvited, unwanted, and unwelcome, bad feelings sit down and makes itself at home. You wonder why you are feeling bad. You know that things are not as bad as they seem, and that whatever is bothering you will surely go away. Yet, those bad feelings just linger on cup of coffee and all. Throughout my life, I have had occasions when I was forced to deal with my bad feelings. The first step in recognizing my bad feelings was to acknowledge that I was having them. Frequently, I would act and behave as if everything was just peachy keen. Laughing out loud. Smiling when I wanted to cry. Staying in bed because I told myself I was not feeling well. Sleeping all day except for bathroom breaks, and lots of other behaviors that spoke volumes to my feelings, but plainly in denial. Recognizing my bad feelings required me to exam why I was having them. What happened? How were they being triggered? Most time the answer was easy. Someone close to me died. I could not make ends meet, and did not want to face the consequence. Made a few bad choices and now I had to pay for them. Spent more money than I had, and now a major emergency has occurred, and I am on the short end. The list could cover more pages than I choose to write, but you get the picture. A host of things could invite bad feelings to take a seat at my table, and pull up a chair. The second step for me in dealing with my bad feelings was to recognize my role in inviting them to the table (did you see that list above). If you really don't like those bad feelings, then stop creating them. That's right, most of my bad feelings are created by me, myself, and I! No, I could not stop the passing of my love ones, but I certainly could get help coping with their passing. I could be honest with myself, and accept the fact that it was their time to meet their maker, and one day I would have to do the same. Death is a part of living. Instead, I would sit around and ask why. I would play the saddest music ever written, and have a field day crying in my own cup of coffee. Anyone can make a budget and follow it or they can fly by the seat of their pants. My favorite mode of operation. When you fly by the seat of your pants, you keep no records, you run the expenditures in your head. You tell yourself you are on top of this. You got it. You will know what to do when the bill comes in. Something will happen. Something does happen. I stress and stress until the time comes to pay the bills and I don't have it, and the world does not end. In fact, the more days pass, the less urgent and fewer bad feelings linger. Lesson: It was not that big of a deal. As Mother would say, "You turned a mole hill into a mountain!" The third step in getting rid of my bad feelings is to stop doing those things that caused them in the first place. Yeah, I am in control of me. I can honestly do something about me. Once I recognize that, and actually do something about me, I have fewer and fewer bad feelings. Set up a budget. Pay you and your bills first. Be realistic on what you can spend, and what you can't. DO NOT touch your savings. They are not rainy day funds. It rains almost every day, so leave the savings alone. Live within your means. When the world gets you down, and that can happen, you can't always pick yourself right back up and tackle it again! Get some help. Everybody needs somebody to talk to that will honestly listen without judging. There are people out there that are trained to listen. Okay, they cost money, but then isn't that why you work--to take care of you, yours, and your needs? Then how best to spend the money making sure that you are alright. No, it is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of health-mentally-healthy you us a better you. So my third step in getting rid of those bad feelings is to find someone, not your mother, not your best friend, not your coworker, but a licensed psychiatrist or psychologist, and start the mental health process. It is painless (time-consuming--about 50 minutes per session), but time well spent. You will not stop having bad feelings, but you can certain learn how to let them go. Letting go of bad feelings will reduce the stress in your life, give you more free clear thinking time, and boost your energy level to allow you to use your time more wisely. Exercise and meeting positive people will also help to reduce bad feelings. My final step in letting go of bad feelings is learning to love yourself--not that made up doll baby or teenager looking back at you from the mirror. That is make up and your mind playing tricks on you. You are beautiful! Your wrinkles are beautiful. Those aging eyes are beautiful. That headful of grey hair is beautiful. That fat that you acquired over the years is also beautiful, and if you don't like it, do something about it. PUSH BACK FROM THE TABLE. Go to the gym. Stop eating out. Take up yoga, but don't hate you. You are wonderfully and fearfully made by a loving God who loves you just as you are, and He will never reject you. Psalm 139:14 14 I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. KJV |
| Have you ever been in a job that you knew was time to let go? How about being in that job that had a boss that was so mean or laid back or took credit for your work or constantly put you down or otherwise just was not right for you. Because we are human, and often do not own our job or place of employment, we work for others. We work for others primarily to get a paycheck. The paycheck is needed to meet our basic needs, wants, and ultimate goals. Many of us keep our jobs or stay in our jobs because we feel that we can't do any better; the job market is tight; friends, spouses or someone other than ourselves believe that we have the best job ever or in my case benefits and pay! I must also say that I stayed because of the opportunity to move up and around without leaving the organization. All of these are great reasons, and I am sure you can add many more. However, are these good reasons for living your life the way that you do or have done for so many years? I think not, at least not for me. Life is entirely too short to live and work in a place or for someone that does not value you and/or you do not like. The hard part is figuring out how to let go and move on. Many of us that finding ourselves in these jobs have obligations, needs, and /or other reasons for staying including the fear of letting go, limited skills or being afraid of taking risks. No matter how miserable we are, we stay. We work the minimum number of hours and any over time required or if we are managers until the job is done. We barely get home in time to be with the family or do those things that we truly appreciate in life. Letting go can be exhilarating. Over the years, I have held onto jobs that took me where I thought I wanted to go just to get there and find out that I did not find happiness or joy. I spent years carrying out orders, getting paid, and preparing for retirement. My jobs were not menial or dirty, but they were not the best use of my talents and skills. As I look back over the past 60 years of my working life, (yes, I started working at age 7), every job prepared me for the next one. Eventually, my education, training, and experience made me the right person for the job, but I never really planned for my real job. As a result, I had jobs, not the job, but jobs. One day after working in a job for almost ten (10) years, and getting a boss who once again did not know anything of the work that was being done, I decided to resign. Right there, right then, on the spot I tendered my resignation. I was free. I packed my office with the help of several others, and walked out the front door. I have never looked back. Just so that you know, the job paid $100,000+, offered great benefits, had an absolute great staff of people working there, and met a major need in the neighborhood, and still I left. I had finally gotten old enough or wise enough to know that money, benefits, and others' goals were not enough to make me happy! Not only were they not enough to make me happy, but were taking a serious toll on my health. The day-to-day stress of running the organization, without sufficient financial backing, lack of support from the board, or other entities in the community made the success of the organization unobtainable. I worked hard. I drove my people hard. I drove the clients hard. We produced. Not enough. It was time to let go. I had finally arrived at a place in life where I no longer felt obligated to explain to anyone why I was leaving. I also did not stay because I needed the money. I had come to a place that I was important to me. In years past, everyone else was more important than me. I had taken the world on my shoulders and I was weighted down. My health, lifestyle, and peace of mind were at stake. It was truly time to let go. In order to let go, I had to reach a level of peace with what that meant to my future. Would I ever want to work again? What about references? How would I survive? How long would it take to get another job? How would I survive? Lots of questions with no answers, but quit I did, and the chips fell where they may. I was free. The first few days I slept late. I fixed breakfast. I watched the sun rise. I explored my house. I invited people over. I played games on my computer, and I rediscovered my passion for writing. I had the time to do things that made me happy. No pressure. No deadlines. No reports. Just time on my hands. Time to make an assessment of where do I go from here, and how do I get there. The assessment was my most valuable tool for helping me to let go. No, it was not a formal instrument, but it got the job done. I learned that I could live off of less, if I was not competing with the joneses. I realized that most of what I was earning was going to help everyone but me. And, the biggest revelation was that the organization would go on without me. I was not even a footnote in its continuation. The headless horseman kept moving forward. Wake up call. Letting go was not easy. There were bills to be paid, and the need to retain a place to live and a car to drive, but in the greater scheme of things living was much more important. Living and being healthy took precedent over everything else. Letting go became my only option. Fearlessly, I stepped out of the front door of my last employer, and I am grateful for the decision. I have given myself permission to live not just be alive. Modestly living, I have learned how much happier I am. I have the freedom to write, to paint, to take a walk in the park, to smell the roses, and taste the coffee. Yes, there are times when I may actually reach out to another human for help, and that is okay. The human touch and the human support system are awesome. It is why we are born into families -- to need and support each other -- not to become islands. You can let go, if you still believe in the kindness, support, and love of those around you. You can let go, if you do not have to be the only one with all of the answers. You can let go, if you are willing to let others see you as yourself. Just another human striving to be your best with less! |
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My condolences.
K.
. I feel your pain. My Jim will be gone two years on July 19th. Sometimes it feels like yesterday and other times it feels like a hundred years ago. Almost immediately after Jim passed I quit eating meat...don't ask me why, I don't know. The human brain is so complicated. I think maybe it was something else for me to focus on, new recipes, new ways to get protein, something I thought I was doing that was good for me. I continue to be vegetarian and somehow it has helped sustain me. God bless... 