Blog Archives
Holding the plank – and wanting more
I held the plank last night.
In correct position, and with my arms shaking – I held on.
And when I got home, I started to get undressed when I noticed that the work I’ve put into my body these past weeks, is showing results.
I originally took a photo of my stomach for myself. When I looked at the picture after I took it – I noticed my arm. I was shocked. And excited. And I was sharing that!
I posted it to my Facebook wall, completely ecstatic that my goal of achieving tone was being realized.
I have other goals.
Other desires.
And what I tried to convey in my last post – was that I am trying to allow myself to want those things.
I found myself feeling on the precipices of a breakthrough – of starting to feel like a woman – in my prime – of wanting more for her.
At the same time, feeling very much confined to my hamster wheel and with no resources for even a change of cedar chips.
I needed to talk it out with someone.
So I did what I am only now learning how to do, I spoke up and reached out.
_______________________________
I had the most amazing conversation with one of my best friends.
I miss her.
This is the friend who wore a ball gown one casual Friday.
The friend who smeared cake on her own face just so she could turn around at the right moment and say “What cake?”
The friend I danced to P!nk with – and swooned over Dave Matthews with while we sipped Kendall Jackson Chardonnay.
The friend who was there for me during a devastating chapter in my life.
I love her.
She fought cancer and won. If that wasn’t enough to make her my hero, she’s bold and authentic, funny and smart, balanced, human and oh so loving.
She also happens to have the maiden name of my mother. First, middle and last. The odds of that are bonkers.
So I told her early this week, “I need to talk. I need a friend.”
We had a time planned, but then another friend needed me. The thing about true friends, is that there is no explaining, no awkwardness, just ‘can we talk another time?’
Yes we could. This weekend.
So I called her with tonight with “Are you home yet? What about now? What about now?”
No. She wasn’t home. But now was a good time.
She then proceeded to blow my ever so ‘undeserving’ mind with:
“It doesn’t mean you’re not grateful. It’s okay to acknowledge that you obviously have needs on many levels that are not being met.”
_______________________________
The thing about getting older, is that the window of opportunity for any significant life change gets smaller.
The older we get, the more likely we may become ill – become lonely – become someone we didn’t plan to be – and there are only so many do overs.
That is reality.
But so many times, ‘reality’ becomes an excuse for not trying.
As she said “We have to candy coat reality a little bit at least. To make life less bitter. We have to be able to dream, to want things for ourselves.”
This is true.
I can think of a million reasons why I can’t take a big step and make the little girl I used to be proud and excited again.
But all it takes is believing anything is possible and allowing myself to want something for myself. And that is NOT selfish.
I don’t know if I’m brave enough yet.
I don’t know if I believe enough in myself yet.
But I’m getting there.
If I can just hold on … even while I’m shaking.
These dreams … (and dreams we have for others)
Last night I dreamed my mother was pregnant. The shock that she was carrying a child at her age gave way to wonder. I felt a sense of peace and safety and excitement.
I was in the hospital with her, for a check up or perhaps because the time was close to meet the little one?
I looked at her swollen belly and then into her eyes. She was smiling in a tired yet calm way, and had some bad news.
The baby wasn’t going to make it.
It wasn’t long after that ‘scene’ when we were in a gymnasium, and she was finalizing plans with a score keeper to try again. I didn’t even question why he would be the father. It just seemed like a business transaction.
I noticed my mom online this morning and told her: “I dreamed you were pregnant.” She responded “We weren’t going to tell anyone just yet.”
That made me smile.
I am fortunate to have a mother with a sense of humor.
I researched the symbology of seeing someone pregnant. It said: “To dream someone else is pregnant indicates that you are experiencing a closer connection to this person.”
So what did they say it meant to lose the baby?
“Suggests that some idea or plan did not go as expected. The dream may also serve as a warning against your continued course of action. You need to alter your path or risk losing something of significance and value to you.”
Hmmmm ….
I have my own theory.
I’m ashamed to admit, I’ve had some resentment lately.
Nicholas returned from England and the next step was to enroll in college and look for his first job.
I stand by my theory that no one can want anything FOR you. While you can suggest, encourage and support, you can’t want someone into doing something.
Of course I’ve discussed school with Nic. But in my opinion, unless it’s something he wants for himself, he won’t put in the work.
I planted seeds and offered ideas and hoped to see him decide to take that path on his own. For him to make the effort to look into how to make it happen.
And he has.
Yesterday he went to the college and in the evening, we pushed “Submit” on his student aid application.
My resentment comes from the fact that every conversation I’ve had with my mother lately includes her telling me what Nic has to do.
As if I’ve been dropping the ball on the whole ‘raising your child’ thing.
“He needs to go speak to a counselor at the college.” “He needs to apply for jobs.”
I think a part of me feels like she doesn’t trust my mothering.
I felt talked down to, like a little girl being given directions because she couldn’t figure it out on her own.
And the feeling returned that Nicholas is not mine, but hers.
I sat in that feeling and it wasn’t comfortable.
So I shifted my thoughts and my position.
Nicholas isn’t mine. He does not belong to anyone. “God doesn’t have grandchildren” came to mind.
I considered that I’m fortunate to have others love and care about my son. The directions come from a well intended place.
I have to take myself and my pride out of the equation – because it’s not about me.
I don’t know what it’s like to be a grandmother. I can only imagine. I imagine it’s indescribably amazing.
The love I have for my son is the most honest and pure and complete love I’ve known. So to one day, perhaps, hold his child? My eyes are watering just imagining it.
And I’ll want the best for his son or daughter. And if I’m fortunate enough to be there and to know my grandchild – I’m sure I’ll offer Nic advice.
But I trust the person that he is – even now. I know his values and his heart. I know that he will be an incredible father one day.
Awake and not naked
Why am I up so early after a restless night? And why am I not naked??
I should clarify, those two thoughts are independent of one another.
I awoke at 1 am having had the strangest dream. It was of an ex of mine. I got up, blurry eyed and off-balance and let the dog out.
Noticed some lightning and thought ‘I’m partially awake, I’ll sit outside and watch nature put on a little show while I wait for the dog.’ So I did.
It’s not uncommon, (she says trying to keep a straight face because it’s ALWAYS) that I’ll have a few tangent thoughts when sitting quietly. (Or while talking to someone, or while working, or while doing the dishes, or while reading.)
I thought about the ex. He’s happily married with children. Most of them are. That pleases me.
I wondered then, am I cursed?? Or, do I have super powers?
When I break up with someone, they end up shortly afterwards finding someone they marry and/or procreate with.
Before I went back to sleep, I considered the possibilities. I should use these powers for good! I could be a professional girlfriend, (wait … isn’t that already a profession?) then break up with that person and TA DA! They could find their ‘happily-ever-after-mate.’
Interesting. Very interesting.
I would have a collection of ‘thank you’ notes in my portfolio along with wedding photos. Eharmony, move over!
The irony is my name, Amanda, means, ‘Worthy of being loved.
Now, onto the naked.
It’s Summer in the desert. It is hot. Even in the middle of the night my air conditioner kicks on with its gentle ‘THUD’.
I sleep in boxers and a tank top …
WHY AM I NOT NAKED??
Nic is in England!
When he is not in England, the reason for my clothed body is that we have a pretty open door policy around here. Only time I shut my door is when I’m going from towel to getting dressed.
There have been plenty of times I’ve gone to bed (or am trying to pee) and my door bangs open and it’s Nic wanting to show me something or tell me something. Since I don’t want him scarred for life, I’ve covered up since he was old enough to be traumatized by seeing his mother naked.
But he isn’t here! And I don’t think the dog cares one way or another … so I’ll put ‘sleep naked you idiot, it’s hot in here!’ on my list of things to do.
I’ll now show that I am capable of tying thoughts together and not just veering from topic to topic, by actually joining the subjects of love and Nic being gone – together.
Can I get a volunteer from the audience?
Nic has been gone for four days now. 4. And the status update I wake to see is “Cheers from England.” AND, he ‘saw’ my instant message but didn’t respond to it!
Guys, do you not realize how much we females read into your unresponsiveness to interaction??
We think about you all the time! We multi-task and can even think about you while running the house, the errands or the world.
Here’s some insight into the female mind. If you haven’t emailed us back, called us back or messaged us, (and it doesn’t matter if you’re a son or a love interest,) we assume the worst. You are either dead or you don’t love us anymore.
And if you don’t email or message or call us for an extended period of time, you had better be dead.
I jest. We love you. We just need to be reassured that you are alive and thinking of us when you’re not with us.
There! I did it! And no tangents!
Oh ….
Step 1 of Operation send NIC to the UK
Downloaded, completed and printed passport application.
I have decided to tell myself “Nic is going to England”.
No ‘maybe’, no ‘if I can’.
“Success is sequential, not simultaneous” it says on a white board in our office building … One step at a time for a goal I’ve already decided WILL be realized. 🙂
I’m not a groupie!
Was that eye-catching enough?
Been thinking lately about passion.
My son and I had a chat about this. His plan for after graduation was to pursue higher education in the culinary field. I know he has an interest in food (for sure I know this lol) and also in cooking – but not in the way that he’s constantly in the kitchen, or watching cooking shows, or looking up chefs and restaurants on the internet.
I pointed this out to him and have previously pointed out that you don’t just suddenly become a Chef – master of your own kitchen and restaurant. There’s hard work involved and you start from the bottom and work your way up.
You have to LOVE what you’re doing. You’re going to be cooking the same dishes over and over and over, in a hot, busy, noisy kitchen.
He wasn’t sure what else he had a talent for or an interest in, until I pointed out the fact that there is one constant in his life lately that he seems to also enjoy. Photography.
We’ll see where that goes, but I had already been thinking about passion and this only served to bring on more pondering.
What is my passion?
I’m not sure. I know what I like to do.
I know I’m pretty good at a few things, but by no means do I excel in anything that I’m aware of.
I like to write. I like to draw. I like to paint. I like to sing. I like to take photographs. But I’m really not GREAT at any of those things.
If someone came to me and said ‘Debauch,’ (ok, we’ve established my name is Amanda in my first post, I suppose it’s alright to use it).
Rewind, they start over and come to me and say, ‘Amanda, you no longer have to worry about earning money. Your rent, food, utilities and car are covered. Go and pursue your passion!’
I would have no clue what I would do!
I titled this post ‘I’m not a groupie’ for a reason. I have a few – OK, several ex’s that were in bands.
Yes, it’s exciting to be at a show, yes, it is kind of cool to be the singer/drummer/bass players girlfriend. BUT! That wasn’t what drew me to any of them.
Other than my passion for music, I’m drawn to people who pursue their dreams.
Drive, ambition, hard work and gratitude for whatever fruit is born from that. Yup.
For me, there’s nothing sexier than someone who not only shows an interest in something, but has the tenacity to develop their talent and then not only work hard to chase their dream but to MAKE IT HAPPEN? Holy cow. THAT is a turn on.
It says a lot about a person who knows who they are, what they want and has the courage and drive to achieve it.
Whatever ‘it’ is. Doesn’t have to be music.
I’m not a groupie, I’m a ‘dream chaser connoisseur’.
I had a great opportunity this Summer to meet the Gin Blossoms singer Robin Wilson.
Watch any live video of him on YouTube and you’ll see a man who loves what he does and loves interacting with his fans.
I told him this. I mentioned how amazing it was to see him enjoying his show.
He told me that he really does love what he does and still has fun doing it.
He went on to share some of his inspirations with me. Some were other frontmen who enjoy what they do as much as he does. It really comes through in the performance you know.
No matter what you do – enthusiasm for it, comes through in the performance.
I think right now in my life, my passion may be learning? Growing spiritually and making connections. If I didn’t have to work – if I had an all access pass to pursue a passion … I think I’d grab my son and hit the road.
I’d show him some of the countries I’ve had the honor of visiting.
I would want to return to India – show him how happy some of the poorest communities are because they are grateful.
I would want to return to France and Italy and Greece and show him art and architecture.
I would want to return to Afghanistan, Pakistan and Iran and show him what it’s like to live in surrounded by unrest and fear.
I would do those things, and take photographs and write about it here.
I think I found it.
My passion is all of the things I don’t do perfectly, but love doing. ♥
Being a mom, a student, a teacher – immersing myself in other cultures and beliefs – and sharing that.
And, if we hit a few concerts on the way? Just remember – I’m not a groupie!
Debauchery Soup 