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Catabolic hearts and Candy Corn pencils
I spent last night with a few tears – and like a child in need of comfort, I also grabbed a blanket and my bear.
Yesterday brought joy and sadness, love and aloneness, hope and fear. And sometimes, it’s all just too much to process.
It wasn’t due to any one thing in particular – things build over time to overflowing and when there is no outlet – blanket and bear come into play.
I joke about saying too much – about not editing myself. But the fact is, I keep so much inside that it hurts sometimes.
You know when someone notices that you’re out of sorts and hugs you? That dam that bursts because of that hug?
I feel like life (and, yes, me too) constantly plugs up my dam with no relief in sight.
When I desperately need a hug.
And to be heard.
And seen.
I posted this on my Facebook wall this afternoon – after a day of feeling unwell physically, but mostly overwhelmed emotionally.
I did this because I felt safe putting it there, I am very selective about who my ‘friends’ are on Facebook. People that know me and ‘get me’ are privy to my mostly quirky, sometimes funny and often odd status updates.
I don’t have friends I don’t trust.
What I really wanted to do was write about it here though. So I’m going to.
I have a lot on my plate and on my mind. A lot weighing on my heart also.
I find it necessary, again, to reiterate that I am a happy person – and a grateful person – and a loving person. And I know what is important in life.
But I am also a human person.
I used to think it was not okay to permit myself to feel my sadness. That I was somehow being ungrateful by doing that.
I know not to wallow in it – not to become melancholic – but it is necessary to feel. Denying myself permission to acknowledge sadness or fears is not healthy. And there is no growth when one does not acknowledge, assess and address a feeling or emotion.
Still, lately I’ve pent everything up. Putting one foot in front of the other and plugging away at life, while I tackled real and imagined problems alone.
The soul has this amazing ability to take a lot of crap from us – but has its limit. I reached mine.
Then I came home to mail.
Real mail.
Not just an envelope either – a small package.
It was from a dear friend in California (she actually taught me how to do what I do for a living over 14 years ago!)
Inside – was this letter, the sweet pencil and a bag of Halloween candy:
Here I was questioning whether I am worthy of love – and I receive this sweet, sweet gift. That she knows me so well – that something reminded her of me – that she made the effort to go the extra mile and purchase the item and tell me that she thought of me … such love.
And to want to feel connected to me.
What a blessing to have such friends.
I’ll take the pencil to work with me tomorrow and put it somewhere I can look at it as a reminder.
And because it touched me so – my heart can’t possibly be in a catabolic state. It’s still capable of processing love.
It’s just scared.
Embracing fear
I’m finding my fears are directly proportional to how much I am capable of loving. The more I grow, spiritually, intellectually, emotionally, the more I fear. And I wonder how that can be?
I know that the opposite of fear is faith – I know that fear is unhealthy. I know this, and yet I am scared.
For me, this is also growth. When for years (other than my son) I didn’t fear losing something, not caring enough to be afraid – this is growth.
Faith I can work on.
The ordinary seems more ordinary to me lately. All the childhood dreams and hopes I had for myself are keeping me up at night. I want the fantastic. The magical. The fairy tale.
For years I did not believe anymore. Like a wide-eyed audience member discovering the secret behind a magicians trick – such disappointment.
The past few years I have been finding my own magic. Slowly. And finding myself open to believing again. Then out of nowhere, as if a reward for opening my eyes, destiny put more in my path.
I think my fear stems from not wanting to suddenly see another trick revealed.
No, I do not want to sit in naivety. But to have wonderment at what life can bring – to be surprised and to feel anything is again possible – I want more than anything.
Musings from the Laundromat – Giving and Receiving
First I’d like to thank Butters for only waking me up 4 times in the night.
Then, I would like to thank my weekend alarm (set when Nic was still a young school boy, you know … a few weeks ago) that went off at 2:16 am.
It had been set for something he was going to that I had to wake him up for. What was it?? … I can’t think of it.
Anyway, in trying to turn off said alarm, I:
1) woke the rare sleeping dog
2) knocked my phone off of the nightstand, and
3) sent my glass of kiwi-watermelon drink flying – only to land in between the bed and the wall. A nice tight space for cleaning up.
I don’t know if that is the actual flavor by the way … I’m guessing based on the portion of my carpet that is now a lovely kiwi-watermelon color.
Heard my son up several times in the night too – and when I left the house this morning, he was rocking moves like Jagger.
A sleeping Jagger, but moving like him none the less.
Speaking of moves, yesterday I modeled a dress for a good cause. CASA is a program that benefits abused and neglected children in the area.
It was a lot of fun to meet the other models and attendees.
It was also a little hilarious to be half-naked getting ready in a room closed off from the event, whilst facing a huge, wall sized window facing the river.
I don’t think any of us really cared. The people going by on their jet skis probably were going by too fast to notice. (Not sure about the people on the beach.)
I noticed some things though.
I noticed that I didn’t have the fears I had in my 20’s or 30’s to stand in a slip and a bra in public view.
And I noticed that I thought the other ladies, in all shapes and sizes were beautiful. Just as they were.
They were even more beautiful to me because of why they were there. Women giving their time, wanting to do what they could to help such an amazing non-profit organization.
I refer to my growth again as a lot of things are changing. 44 has been pretty amazing so far.
It’s so wonderful to be comfortable in my skin, comfortable in my head and full of hope and joy and promise.
Life is amazing. And if you’re patient enough, and do the next right thing, it turns out life has gifts you didn’t even know were coming.
I’m still processing this.
But, as someone very special to me said recently, it is nice to sometimes receive after all the time we gave.
Yet, I can never forget that there is nothing worth receiving unless I keep giving.
Awake
My usual ‘Musings from the Laundromat’ will be written from home, as they’re not open yet.
I’ve been up since just before 5 O’Clock thanks to Butters, my restless bedroom companion. 3 times last night she wanted to go outside … just to bark at something and hang out on the porch. And that was a good night.
So here I am, sleepy, but happy and trying to find the words to describe the past week. I’m not sure I can.
‘Awake’ is a good start.
Haven’t been sleeping much … but the way I see it, if I’m blessed to be very old one day, I’ll look back and smile at experiences, not the time I spent asleep.
Besides, my mind is wide awake. As is my heart is and my soul.
A series of connections and coincidences keep occurring.
It is as if all the intangibles that have made me who I am, ancestry, music, beliefs, memories, words I’ve read, places I’ve been – have found their counterpoint.
I’ve always liked to think that when I experience Déjà vu it is a sign that I am right where I am meant to be. But I have not experienced anything like this past week before.
No sense that something has happened before, only that it was meant to.
My interview with Rainer Höss. Part I
**In honor of Rainer’s book release in Germany, I am reblogging this interview from May. Click on the Amazon link within the interview to purchase the book. There still WILL be a part II to the interview, Rainer has been very busy but things seem to be finding a chaotic rhythm for him lately. On a personal note, congratulations Rainy on the book – I’m so proud to see you holding it! 🙂 **
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It is 3:15 am in Germany as I begin my writing. My friend ‘Rainy’ is sleeping. I miss the ‘ding’ of the email as he shares more and more about his journey, his hopes and his fears.
He is a book I cannot put down – a person I have come to deeply respect and care for in a short time. I do not know what time or even what day it will be in Germany when I finish. Or if I’ll ever be finished.
While it has to be mentioned to make any sense, this post is not going to be about his grandfather, Rudolf Hoess, (Höss, Höß) Commandant of Auschwitz.
It’s not for at least two very good reasons.
1) I am smart enough to know that I am too ignorant on the topic to have the nerve to offer any opinions or insights. There are far too many souls who have been personally harmed. I will not rehash only what is available to me on the internet and in history books. That information can’t begin to afford me the experience to decide how it must have felt, how it must have been. I will not disrespect those who have personally been affected by the holocaust.
2) My intention from day one was to offer Rainer’s story. His story, in my voice.
When I first saw him in a documentary I was immediately pulled into his world.
He cried, I cried. He was nervous standing before a group of students, I was nervous. He looked around the Villa where his father grew up on the grounds of Auschwitz, I was peering around the corners with him.
Rainer outside of the Villa at Auschwitz, where his father lived
So engrossed was I in that documentary, Hitlers Children, that it affected me profoundly.
We all have family secrets … personal shame about something or another and a lot of us must confess to having at least one ‘monster’.
That in mind, I could not fathom the magnitude of bearing the weight of not only having a most well-known ‘monster’ (I have a problem using that word) in my past, but it not being a secret.
Far from it.
Once Rainer shares his last name – the speculation and judging begins.
It is here that I will offer my ever so humble opinion.
We cannot be great people because our ancestors have done great things, so it stands to reason that we cannot be evil if our ancestors have done evil things.
I believe that those in fear, and still suffering, need something tangible to blame. Someone in the flesh to hear their story and to turn their anger on.
And that is not fair. And that is not right.
Rainer has said often he fears he has his grandfathers evil in him, “As if it could be inherited.”
My heart swells and my instinct is to protect – I do not believe for one minute that evil can be inherited. I believe that we choose our own paths and that we are not defined by our forefathers deeds. Or, more to the point, we don’t have to be. Sometimes our circumstances make it harder to take a different route, but it can be done.
As Rainer said to me, “To come to terms with your past, it takes a lot of strength, but it is also worthwhile to confront his demons. Rising to the task, and where there is a will there is a way. Of course, the path is sometimes rocky and hard, and not immediately visible. Giving up is too easy.”
Let me tell you about Rainer Hoess, who chose not to give up.
His favorite color is blue. “I could paint everything blue around me. The blue color gives me a sense of harmony and security.”
He likes to sit outside on his terrace and look at the stars at night, thinking about nothing. Sometimes with one of his cats in his lap.
He loves diving in the ocean, kickboxing, jogging, cycling.
He practices Tai Chi and Chi Gong daily for focus.
He is well-traveled, educated, genuine and loves his family. He often mentions his 4 beautiful children and his two beloved grandchildren.
And yet, in his words, “Often you stand before the mirror in the morning and look at yourself, similarities, comparing yourself with this monster. The worst thing is that you being to ask yourself the question, what I have of him that I do not know yet?”
I argued with him – pointed out how very different he is from his grandfather, from his own father even! But how can I think for one minute I have the right to do that? I am not walking in his shoes.
He went on to say, as we discussed his never-ending research, “I am always deeply penetrated into the psyche of my grandfather and have therefore often put myself in danger.” He was speaking of his health – his obsessive research in an attempt to understand, resulted in 3 heart attacks. He immersed himself in a desperate quest. (Which resulted in this book.)
But Rainer is also a thrill seeker – an adrenaline junky. “It gives me the opportunity to make myself free of these constraints of society. Myself to determine how far I want to go. There is also a kind of therapy to overcome boundaries.”
I think it’s also a vehicle to get out of his own head, if only for a little while – to feel something other than the weight of his ancestry.
Good thing he has a God of his understanding on his side.
Rainer also studied theology in his ‘free time’, “To cover all eventualities in my research and to get answers of my questions”
He went on to tell me, “But in churches I encountered a lot of misunderstanding after my questions. Faith as a shield and excuse for such crimes I cannot accept. And especially the denial of this crime by some churches and their leaders.”
Rainer is not in denial.
Rainer in the barracks in Birkenau
“To me it’s important that my generation had the chance to speak. Because what we have seen and experienced applies to everyone, and not just for descendants of Nazis.”
And speak he does. To students, to survivors. Rainer is on a mission to speak out in hope of understanding, healing and prevention for all who care to listen.
“Many believe what they read in the media, whether it’s true or not. They want to get to know me really the least, because who would gladly look in the mirror of his own soul through me?”
I wanted to look.
And as for the ‘Rainy’ nickname at the beginning. I know Rainer isn’t pronounced like Rain-er in German.
But when I saw the man who was raised to believe “A Hoess does not cry!” shed tears at Auschwitz – I cried along with him.
This morning I said to him,
“I’m glad to know the Hoess that DOES cry.
Tears are cleansing.
Like Rain.”
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(All photographs copyright of Rainer Hoess. Used with permission. All quotes and material is owned by Debauchery Soup/Amanda Hoskins.)














