Aye, Dream

Giving myself permission to dream big can be a real stretch. Yes, really, it's true - I'm such a pragmatist, perhaps because I'm a Virgo or perhaps because my father and his stepfather are both practical men (also Virgos) who heavily influenced my thinking. Often enough as a child, I'd make an offhand comment about something I wanted and one or the other of them would launch into a detailed explanation of what steps one might take were one to actually attempt to acquire the object of my desire. All three of us are also left-handed and creatively inclined, particularly in pursuits that require logic - for me, that means crocheting with its attendant mathematical constructs.

But back to dreaming… When my husband (and I love him for this) talks about his next big idea or the book that we're writing together, he thinks so far out of my comfort zone that I tend to just sort of tense up. With our book, it may be, "We could be the next J.K. Rowling with the next Harry Potter!" or "We could have movies made from our series, like Twilight, Percy Jackson or His Dark Materials!" Always punctuated with an exclamation. All of which makes me feel very nervous and as though I'm standing on the edge of a precipice. I don't want to disappoint him, but J.K. Rowling is probably a once in FOREVER phenomenon and sure, movies regularly get made from books, but we haven't even finished chapter one of ours so that possibility seems impossibly far out beyond the horizon.

Still, his dreams make a good counterbalance to my own. Mine that often look something more like: "Maybe I'll get a blog post written this week," or perhaps "I'd like to try to get three loads of laundry done AND put away this week."

What would I dream up if I allowed those boundaries to really dissolve? Don't know - let's find out…

I dream of travelling around Europe and elsewhere to experience different cultures firsthand, allowing my remaining preconceived notions about what's "normal" to fall away.

I dream about a writer's retreat that is a small but cozy space with a kitchen(ette) and a place to lie down for a cat nap (or a rip-roarin' snooze). Maybe a Mother-in-Law's cottage adjacent to a larger home, maybe an elegant loft in a large city, maybe just a gussied up tool shed. I've actually entertained the latter quite recently during trips to Lowe's and Home Depot - aren't they adorable? Ostensibly, they'd be heated and cooled by solar power.

Outdoor Living Today's Pentagonal Penthouse Garden Shed at Home Depot

  

Cedarshed Clubhouse (8' x 16') at Lowes


I dream about having plenty of cash on hand for whatever might arise, need or want, so that I don't have to scramble about, make do or resort to a beg/borrow/steal mentality. By this, I don't mean millions of dollars. Frankly, I don't know how I'd quantify it. A bank account that perpetually had a balance of any given whole number followed by at least three zeros would probably fulfill this criterion. Four zeros wouldn't be bad either…

I dream about contributing to my/our world in a meaningful way - making gum (more specifically, reporting on the process of making gum) certainly isn't wrong in any inherent way, but it doesn't really feel like we're doing anything of genuine worth to improve the world in any qualitative way. Quantitatively, we're manufacturing a lot of "stuff" and I might have just a wee issue with that, but we're not the sole contributors to that monster, so…

I dream about writing books that people enjoy reading and purchase as gifts for their friends and discuss over cups of tea (or coffee, if they must). I'd even be tickled to hear complaints because that still means I've triggered something in them strong enough to elicit a response.

I dream about helping people begin to peel back the layers of gauze that obscure their sight so that they can see more facets of the amazing, wonderful, beautiful, astounding, awe-inspiring world of people, animals, plants, minerals and elements around them. I am already working on my own gauze, wispy and ethereal as it is.

I want to help other Picky Eaters become Persnickety Eaters in whatever form suits them best. And write memoir cookbooks of their journeys and my own.

I do dream. I can dream big and vague and not worry whether my dreams are at all feasible or how I might accomplish them or in what timeframe and with what resources. Yes, I acknowledge that manifesting my dreams - any of them - will require specific action, but never worry. Worry serves no purpose but to delay progress toward whatever goal I might pursue.

What are your BIG dreams?

Exposing Personal Myths

What ecstatic fun you can have examining the myriad myths of a misspent youth!

While I was in the shower this morning (because you needing the setting), I had an epiphany (because epiphanies and hot water seem to go hand in hand). Here's what I remembered: I used to think that "thin" had a weight limit and that was 110 pounds (roughly 50 kg)...

HUH?!? No wonder I had weight/body image issues! I have no idea where that number actually came from, but there it was as if from one of Moses' stone tablets.

Okay, well, that might be exactly what thin looks like for some folks (and my sincere blessings to you if you are in that category), but at 5'10" tall, that wouldn't have been "thin" for me. That would have been skeletal.

Luckily for me, I spent most of my excessively athletic high school years between 135-145. No, I didn't realize then how thin I actually was, but I have a great appreciation for that fact now. During college, I padded out a little, but still stayed between 145-160. Well within healthy norms for my height and build. I happen to have dense muscle mass (or so my chiropractor insists), so the scale weight for me of say, 140, equates to a size 5/6.

Right now, late-30's and post-babies, I'm aiming for a comfortable size 7/8, whatever that happens to look like on the scale. That's a drop of only about 3 sizes, nothing requiring surgery or hyper-restrictive dieting, but still a challenge on every face of it. I've been doing a yoga-pilates class several nights a week for about 2 months and I can tell a difference, but it doesn't seem to be quite "enough". Yes, there's that word, but I'm not applying it to myself in this case but rather my choice of physical activity.

So I joined a walking team at work. It's the first time they've done this so I don't know many of the details but I got my pedometer this morning and it's almost insanely fun to see how my regular walking adds up. Our manufacturing facility is quite large and though I don't often venture into the vast recesses, I do at least make the trek to/from my vehicle in addition to walking up and down a large flight of stairs several times each day. The pedometer measures to the thousandths of a mile so every step (or five) adds to the total.

As I've delved deeper into exposing myths (like "my ideal weight *should* be 110 lbs."), I've built healthier, more realistic concepts to take their place. Yoga, walking - maybe even running if I can beat the insane summer heat - these help me construct that framework that will sustain me through the rest of my years (which I plan to be numerous).

What personal myths have you excavated from your childhood/youth?

Shine On

This might not be obvious from previous posts - in fact, this might run entirely contrary to previous posts, come to think of it - but I am a relatively happy person. With few breaks in continuity, I have primarily looked upon the world in general with a glass-three-quarters-full, anything-is-possible sort of attitude. It's no coincidence that the first tattoo I chose was a sunshine with a Northward-pointing compass directional above it. Sunny, happy-go-lucky, joyous, brighten-your-spirits - I identify deeply with those descriptors.

In my darkest of days (the ones that seem most often to find their outlet here), one or the other of the wonderful people whom I cherishingly (is that a word?) claim as friends nearly always manages to remind me that I am valuable, to them and to my boys and to others as well. In the throes of pain, it's not always easy to dredge up (or believe) that kind of information by myself. It's much, much easier to believe that my contribution to this world is so little as to be utterly insignificant, which invariably breeds the thought: "Then what's the point?"

There's always a point, to every life that exists then ceases to exist. How we perceive, receive, believe and allow those lives to achieve their ends provides us with the reason. When we stifle life, our own or others, we cause damage that's impossible to measure. Still, those times are ripe for learning, too, in the endless, formless, timeless way that existence simply happens.

As I continue to emerge from my current cycle, rising into the next one with just a little more grace, a little more wisdom, a little more experience, and just possibly a little less baggage, I can feel a radiance beginning to grow within. It's always been there, though it's been frightfully dim for too long. With continued nurturing, that light will once again have the chance to shine through - Future's so bright, we're all gonna need shades!

Artistic Endeavors

As I try each day to be "practical", to go to my "job" (the one that earns me money for things like food, shelter, clothing and medical care), I wonder what I'm missing. What am I giving up in order to have those needs met? My answer more and more has become a creative outlet. Yes, yes, I do legitimately need a home and the rest of the basic necessities. And, yes, most often, money is the most straightforward way of acquiring those things. But at what cost? What feels like too high of a price to me? In short, the way I've been approaching life is too high of a price, missing out on much of the boys' childhoods, missing out on chances to create my art in words, photography, crocheted objects d'art or whatever other medium happens to strike my fancy.

To that end, I have been endeavoring to start where I am, thanks in part to Chris Gardner, thanks in larger part to my family and friends who have always listened to my ideas, my hopes, my dreams with open hearts and who haven't faulted me for not always reaching as far as I perhaps could have.

Oh, Are You?

"Oh, are you blogging again?"

This question, innocently asked by a dear, dear friend, has sparked yet another round of self-inquiry. For years I've felt like I was on the cusp of something. Something incredible, something wonderful, something life-changing. Then nothing happens.

At least, nothing happened with the fanfare I apparently expected. Ten years ago I was on the cusp of entering into a relationship with the man who would become my husband. That was something special. Nearly eight years ago that man became my hubby when we made vows to one another. That was something really wonderful. Five-and-a-half years ago, my eldest son Noodle was born. THAT was life-changing (to say the least). Two-and-a-half years ago I made a career change that has opened up a whole new world of employment opportunities for me. That was incredible. Just last Christmastime, my little munchkin arrived just in time to be a late but lovely gift. That, again, was truly life-changing.

Perhaps the reason I feel like "nothing" is what's happened is because I'm considering only the one part of the whole I consider "me" that I feel to be lagging behind: my writing. It's like a forgotten room in my brain that is occasionally cracked open so something else can be chucked inside before the door is slammed shut for an undisclosed duration. Sometimes I loll in the doorway, surveying the morsels and nuggets and hidden gems within. I smile sadly in their direction and close the door again.

What am I hiding in there? What am I hiding in my brain? Why am I hiding at all? What, in heavens name, could possibly cause me to be so afraid? I'm hiding behind very tangible walls: 50 lbs. of bodily "padding", pony-tailed hair, unremarkable eyeglasses, Mommy jeans. I am proud of my mind, humbled by both its capacity and its foibles. Why hide so deep inside this carefully maintained fortress?

I confess: I do not know the answers to my own questions. Perhaps it's time I break out.

My "Good Friday"

I am to be laid off from my job tomorrow. I was not really surprised to find this out, but still had a moment of tentative fear.

Then, as I glanced over the things on my desk, my eyes landed on the calendar, which showed that tomorrow, Friday, April 6, 2007, is Good Friday (the Christian holiday).

I thought this relatively amusing since I have been wanting for a while to be rid of the burden of my workplace. This morning, just to remind myself that I can make it through these last two tedious days, I looked up the definition of Good Friday on Wikipedia:

"Good Friday is a holy day observed by Christians. Special prayer services are often held on this day with readings from the Gospel giving accounts of the events leading up to the crucifixion. Mainstream Christian churches view Christ's crucifixion as a voluntary and vicarious act, and one by which, along with resurrection on the third day, death itself was conquered."

It is a celebration of DEATH ITSELF [BEING] CONQUERED!!!

How apropos... I am so happy to experience this "little death" (oh wait, that's Shakespearean language for "orgasm" - haha - still somewhat appropriate, I guess) and know that new life awaits just beyond!

I am going back to my roots, banking on my passions combined with my talents instead of just my "abilities" - such a lack luster term. The thought alone causes my heart to swell with positive anticipation - and that is how I am sure that I am headed in the right direction!