Color

In my new place, there is a red teapot, multicolored plates and bowls, one wall painted sienna, another wall blue. Wanting to surround myself with color – with life.  It helps.

I’ve lost my best friend.  Not lost, really.  I left.  The hard thing is, I felt like I had no choice but to leave.  A marriage takes more than being best friends.  But to actually make the decision and leave, to decide that we each deserve “more” ….  So sad to see all our future dreams gone, even if we didn’t share those dreams anymore.

Made slightly easier by the fact that I was “doing” – I was the one moving, finding an apartment, scouring Craigslist for bunkbeds.  He was at home, seeing his life dismantled, his wife packing, leaving – having to put a good face on things for the girls. 

Throughout the day, I think about his pain and it stops me cold.  I wonder how he is, but cannot ask.  Space.  Give him space.  

Sip tea in my blue mug…

Friday Fiction - Chance

From her bedroom window, she looks out -- scraggly trees dot the horizon.  She can see the land dip toward the path to the canyon.  The house is quiet.  There is a rustling in the eaves from the dove’s nest.  Yesterday they all climbed a ladder to look at the soft, beautifully pink eggs.  “The palest of pale pink” her daughter had said.  So delicate.  The parents circled close to the ladder, beating their wings in an effort to shoo away the peering eyes. 

She closes her eyes, leaning against the window frame, cherishing the moment – her, the children, her husband.  A moment that felt like a family again.  She had felt a part of something bigger than herself.  A fleeting feeling.  Gone soon after, as they each carried on with their day. 

So much time in her life dedicated to this family – to creating a home full of fun and life.  Not realizing that filling her time with all things family meant she was erasing herself.  She is so good a being a good friend, mom, wife, daughter – you name it.  But what about her? A friend told her recently she needed to figure out what she liked to do.  She has a chance to learn about herself.  What does she like? 

Ugh.  How ridiculous to be 42 and not have a sense of what she wants. 

Pushing away from the window, she bangs down the stairs, drains the cold remains of her coffee and bursts through the back door.  Must get out of here.  The drive to run, flee, is overwhelming at times.  Usually she has to shove it down.  But today, she has no plans, no one needs her.  She can do anything she wants.  So why does she feel so trapped? 

The last time she did something just for herself – something that made her happy – well that kind of blew up.  Maybe less drama, she smiled wryly, remembering.

The bookstore – she loves books – something to lose herself in. Patting her pocket, feeling the lump of her wallet and phone, she strides off with purpose toward the canyon trail, towards town.   

Friday Fiction

The wind rushes over the top of the gorge, overpowering even the bird calls.  Deep inside, silence is marred only by the crunch of gravel under her Keens.  There is no sun down this far and she shivers, at once wishing for a jacket but also relishing feeling cold.  Feeling cold is . . . well, it’s feeling something.  Better than nothing, right?  She sighs, feeling a familiar waive of sadness sweep over her.  Alone time should be helpful, but when she is alone, there is nothing to interrupt her thoughts…questions…longing…

Ow – her toe jammed something hard.  She squints in the dim light and sees an old signpost.  Probably either very old – gold rush days – or from the old tourist trap mining tours set up near by.  No matter to her, so long as she is alone.  In no mood for company today.

Trudging on, the gorge widens and she sees the fork up ahead.  Relief.  The walls were becoming oppressive.  She is much more of a view person – open spaces.  Why the gorge called to her today, she doesn’t know.  But being enveloped by the steep barren walls did seem to bring some comfort for a time.

Up ahead, to the right, the gorge banks steeply down.  She sees the smooth sandy sides and smiles, knowing that what looks like danger levels out to the hidden beach on Red creek.  Farther past the beach is the path to town. Her steps slow, her hand combing through her hair, other arm hugging her body.  Seeming to hold herself together and give strength.

Sighing…she turns left, up a gentle slop - the easy road.  One more turn and their house beckons, comforting lights, laughter coming from inside.  Taking a deep breath, she straightens up, puts on a smile and opens the door.

Happy is as happy does....

So how much truth is there in the theory that if you think positive thoughts and set your mind to something, you can be happy?  Most of the time if works just fine.  Until it doesn't.  But day by day, things seem better.  Except when they don't.

When with the girls and people who care about me - happy.  By myself and not busy - not happy.  So, doing my best to keep busy....work, girls, taking up the violin again, sometimes the piano.  And did I mention the new puppy?  What can bring a smile but puppy kisses?

What is Happy?

What is happy?

This may seem like an obvious question, but it is one that is confounding me at the moment.  I cannot seem to "dig deep" right now and figure out what will make me happy.  I know what a lot of loving, caring people think I should do to be happy.  But trying to figure it out for myself - that is a struggle for me.  I can tell you things and people that make me happy, but there is an overall sense of loss and unknown.  A sense of being overwhelmed by "shoulds."

I am depressed.  There, I said it.  It is certainly a difficult thing to admit - especially to myself.  I hold a high standard for myself and lecture myself about all the reasons I should feel fine....blah, blah, blah....the operative word being should.  And I am not lie-around-cannot-get-out-of-bed depressed.  But there is such a disconnect for me right now.  I've had some losses recently that I cannot seem to get past.  Yet there are such potential positives happening as well.  This balance, this struggle. . .feels familiar.

I have had a history of depression.  Not diagnosed, or even, until recently, medicated.  But there are countless times I can recall standing in the shower each the morning saying to myself, "just think of something happy that will happened today.  There has to be one thing."  Or, better yet, making myself smile, because research shows that if your face smiles, the movement of those muscles will trick you into being happy.

And now, I am at a time where I need to figure out important things that will effect my future as well as my family's.  Yet, I cannot connect with what is truly going to make me happy.  It's not for lack of trying...counseling, journaling, etc.  But making a decision based solely on what I want - what I need - I have no idea how to do that.

So, going back to what loving, caring people are telling me - I feel at this point I need to rely on their advice.  Take a leap of faith.  Trust.  Trust . . . and happy will come.

If Snow White and Prince Charming Cheat, is it ok?

So, I'm a bit behind the times since I watch t.v. on Netflicks now.  My eldest daughter (9 1/2) and I have been watching "Once Upon A Time."

Basically, if you haven't seen it, the premise is that all the fairy tale characters have been cursed to live in our world, in a town called Storybrook, Maine, and they have no memory of their real (fairy tale) lives.  Instead, they have fuzzy memories of another life, all concocted by the Evil Queen, who orchestrated this entire curse to punish them all.  The  legend (known only by a little boy) is that Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter, on her 28th birthday, will come to the town and free them all.  As you can expect, the boy is in psychotherapy.  With Jimminy Cricket.  Who doesn't know that is who he is.  

It sounds crazy, but it's actually pretty cool.  And the story line going back and forth from the truth (fairy tale land) and our world is entertaining.  Really, I could go on.  But what is creating some interesting conversations between my nine year old andI has to do with the concocted memories.

You see, the Evil Queen must do all she can to keep Snow White and Prince Charming apart (I guess there will be a cosmic rift in her evil plan if they realize their love for each other).  So, Prince Charming's "fake" memories are that he is married - to someone else.  Who loves him (she has more of those "fake" memories).  The thing is, the connection between Snow and Charming is so strong, they can still feel the love.  Hence begins the questions from my 9 year old...  "Mom, why is it bad that Snow and Prince Charming just kissed?"  "Because he is married to someone else."  "Is it a crime to kiss someone else when you are married?"  "Not a crime, but it is a breaking of your marriage vows - your promises." "But Charming loves Snow."  "Yes, but he is married."  "But not really."  "Well, he thinks he is..."  Seriously....

I mean, of course we all want to defeat the Evil Queen's horrible curse, support 'true love' and all that...but really?

Hanging out the ol' shingle...

Yep - hanging out the shingle.  Striking out on my own.  Making a go of it.

For a public interest lawyer - always worked for one government entity or another - the idea of creating my own private practice is both exciting and terrifying.

Exciting when I think of the work I want to do - to quote my daughters "my mommy helps people get along who can't get along."

Terrifying when I think of navigating the world of limited liability companies, business taxes, special business bank accounts.  Billing.  Did I mention I have always been in public service?

I am, however, motivated, excited about the possibilities, and being encouraged at every turn by colleagues, friends and family.

So here goes!