Everything Flowers From Within

It's a New Year!

2010-01-07T22:23:00.009-05:00

I hate resolutions. Making them feels so good... I'm in control of my life! I will be a better version of me! This time I will succeed! Then comes the sad, disappointing realization that I cannot keep these resolutions..that I've failed again.

So, I hate resolutions. I don't think I'm alone in my hatred or in my lack of success. So, I don't make resolutions. I have this really strong aversion to goal setting in my personal life. Professionally, goals are cool--I love to write them, implement them, celebrate success and analyze mistakes, rewrite them, etc. Personally, goals seem like impossible mountains to climb and even if there is a glimmer of hope, a spark of intuition that I can accomplish a goal, the actual work that I perceive I need to do is so overwhelming to me that the goal/dream/wish/hope stays a tiny spark. I don't feed the spark, so it never has a chance to light and become the burning flame that propels me and feeds my soul. My soul longs to be fed in this way.

There are many theories and reasons I don't feed the spark, and they're probably all right! This year, I'm not making any resolutions either--I do hate failure... BUT, I've realized that I've been cheating myself of myself for all these years. Truly, it's hard for me to even dream a dream (well, not hard for me to dream--those who know me know I have vivid nighttime dreams often in "technicolor" and "stereophonic sound"!). I mean that it's hard for me to imagine something different for myself.

I have glimmers, shadows of dreams and desires, and I know they're telling me what I want, but I'm so used to setting them aside, to fearing them, that I'm finding that I can't make any sense of them. They're so fleeting that they feel like they slip through my thoughts and I can't hold on to them. It makes achieving them tricky if I can't remember them...

The only glimmer I can really identify right now is the desire to feel better. To stop feeling this relentless depression. To be able to recognize what I'm feeling so that I can continue to work on accepting who I am and what the circumstance of my life has been and to make peace with it. I can truthfully say that working on these things is the hardest thing I have ever done. Also truthfully, it was so much easier denying and pushing my feelings away and avoiding than it is to be aware.

So, if I'm going to have a resolution, a goal, a snippet of a dream, it is to continue to be aware. And to accept what being aware brings me--feelings. To understand that feelings just are. To resist interpreting as good or bad. This is SO scary. I'm continually afraid that my feelings will overwhelm me. Rage will take me over. Joy will consume me. Fear will continue to rule my actions. Sadness will be the sum total of my life.

That I even recognize these fears is progress for me. Being mindful and aware is a new skill I'm learning. I have to continually practice. And I have to practice with small things that have nothing to do with my own fears. Reminding myself to notice little things. My new lemon sage hand lotion makes my hands, and by extension myself, feel pampered. I appreciate realizing that. The contrast of modern city buildings and an old brick tower rising above the skyline is beautiful to me, and I acknowledge that. Noticing that my daughter's voice is no longer that of a child, but of a growing-up girl. This bittersweet realization was a true gift to me.

If I can only do one thing this year--or for the rest of my life for that matter (yes, I really am that dramatic!)--it is to continue to be aware, to hone my awareness. To understand to my core that accepting the feelings in my life and the circumstances that contribute to them is what living is. And, while it's hard for me to believe sometime (OK, most of the time--but I'm working on that!), feelings come and they go. They are impermanent. They are transient. They are like the weather in New England. I really want to understand that and come to believe it because I've experienced it. I think in this way, although it will probably be continual work, I'll find more pockets of peace in my life and fewer of distress and fear.

Did I just make a resolution? No. I don't want to call it that--it's still too much pressure.

I'm going to call it my new way of living. I fully expect to stumble and get stuck and be angry and fear it. But I also fully expect to fan the sparks that are hiding and bring some of them to a small flame when I'm ready and able.

Awareness. Acceptance. Peace.
I hope that for you as well.
Happy New Year

Madame President

2009-11-14T07:05:00.006-05:00

Yay! I'm now President of the Northeast MA Regional Library System (NMRLS), a non-profit corporation largely funded with state dollars that supports libraries allowing us to serve our patrons more efficiently and effectively. As my name badge from the meeting stated, "NMRLS: Helping Libraries Work Better, Since 1997".

Assuming this position is bittersweet--not at all what I expected 2 years ago when I was asked to run for VP-President-Elect/President/Past President. The economy which has hit us all hard, is continuing to erode state funded services, including my beloved NMRLS. Our state agency can no longer sustain 6 regions and the number of regions must be reduced. I wrote the following poem and delivered it during my Presidential remarks.

Re-Creation

Budget situation
Impending consolidation
Regional reorganization

Sudden notification
Concerned organization
Deep conversation

Staff agitation
Board exclamation
Close reexamination

Stoic consideration
Emotional situation
Uncertain destination

Proactive collaboration
Efficient facilitation
Program prioritization

Multi-type consultation
Member participation
Service orientation

Personal determination
Future imagination
Successful preservation

Impending consolidation
Regional continuation
Altered configuration

Written for the 2009 NMRLS Annual Member Meeting, 11/12/09

Stop.

2009-11-14T06:56:00.002-05:00

I'm struggling with some frustrating situations right now, and this is a draft of a poem I've written about one particular struggle.

Stop

If you don't want it, don't take it,
but stop questioning it.
You're like a child going from Mom to Dad
looking for the answer you want.

I've explained the same thing over and over--
much longer than anyone should reasonably expect.
You're like a spoiled child whining
because you can't have it your way.

Years of patient explanation hasn't moved you; years
of open conversation about your thoughts hasn't made a difference.
You're like a disruptive punk in school;
everyone gets punished for your bad behavior.

If you can't—won't—accept the facts in front of you, in black and white—
and red from my bleeding heart—

I'm weary.

I'm worn down.

I'm done.

A New Poem

2009-11-06T21:51:00.004-05:00

Hi all,

I was inspired to write this poem when I saw a several crows lined up on a roof top in Lawrence late this afternoon.

Happy Hour

At the end of the day
flocks of crows make their way
through the city like cars on the streets.
They fly and perch, flap a bit further, stop again,
just like the traffic on Union Street.
Moving from telephone line to tree top,
they line the roof edge as if they've arrived at the bar for a quick beer.
A way station, they chatter loudly before heading home for the night.

Orbis Terrarum Poetry Mini-Challenge Poem One

2009-09-25T14:53:00.004-04:00

Lot's Wife
by Anna Akhmatova
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15867

Loving this poem! Haven't we all felt like Lot's wife? Following the rules but tempted? I don't prefer to delve too deeply into the "poet's meaning". I prefer to enjoy a poem for what it says to me. Unscholarly? Yes. Am I okay with that? Yes.

I appreciate Akhmatova's empathy for Lot's Wife. I too felt that it was unfair of God to punish her curiosity--and I'm not a big fan of blind obedience! For more poetry written by Russian women, I highly recommend reading An Anthology of Contemporary Russian Women Poets by Valentina Polukhina.

Kelly and Ozzy

2009-09-23T20:08:00.005-04:00

In general, I'm not a fan of reality TV, but I do like "Dancing with the Stars". Last night, Kelly Osbourne danced beautifully--surprising both herself and her parents. There was a moment after she finished her waltz when she ran to her parents and hugged her father. After their embrace, he so sweetly cupped her face, kissed her and told her how proud he was of her. It was such a lovely moment. I was so jealous.

The green-eyed monster's appearance had nothing to do with my secret wish that I could dance (and dress in beautiful gowns), but that Kelly Osbourne is so lucky to have her dad to hold her and tell her how proud of her he was. Jealousy was quickly followed by sadness and a bitterness that my Dad isn't here to tell me how much he loves me and how proud his is of me.

Sometimes I'm consumed with this combination of sadness and bitterness. I felt this way on my wedding day and on the day Corey was born. I so wanted him to be with me--even though I had so many people who love me near on those days, it wasn't enough. Most days I figure that Daddy is in heaven watching over me and so proud of me.

But then there are those days during which this imagining doesn't matter. I miss him with a sharp rawness that takes my breath away. I'm not sure if other people feel this way about their lost loved ones, although I bet they do, but I'm always amazed at this reaction. I figure that I should be over his death by now, and am startled to realize that I'm not.

Slowly, much too slowly it sometimes seems, I'm learning to appreciate the appearance of these feelings. In some way, having these feelings validates the pain I felt as a child so many years ago. Feelings that were too big for me to feel safe with are slowly coming to the surface. Decades of avoiding how I felt, while a good coping mechanism at the time, now feels like I cheated Daddy of my feelings of grief and despair that he was dead.

I'm still not sure that I will survive these overwhelming emotions, but I'm beginning to believe that experiencing my feelings is a way to honor Daddy, and that he would be proud of my efforts. I'll never get the hug and caress that I want from my Dad the way Kelly Osbourne got hers, and that's OK. It still hurts, but I had him and his love for me for 11 years, and that has to be enough.

There is no substitute for Daddy's presence, but I'm here to remember him and to make him proud. I'll just imagine the hugs and caresses that he'd give to me if he could.

Small World

2009-09-20T19:44:00.005-04:00

I submitted my 1976 layout to the Good Grief Blog Challenge and I WON the random drawing! I was so excited to win awesome tags from Ormulo. Even more exciting was to receive them in the mail yesterday with a little note from the owner who is originally from Massachusetts and still has family here!

I love how small this world is and I love making connections with people. I think that's one reason why I love to read the blogs of people who are creative and interesting. I learn so much about their world, and while reflecting, I learn more about mine. I use Google Reader to collect the blogs/websites I like. I'm so happy I finally decided to use it--thanks to my pal Deb H. Checking my bookmarks was getting very O-L-D!

To get back on track... I thought I'd share the top blogs I love. These are the blogs that I would choose if someone told me I had to cull them--they're also the ones I make sure to read if I'm pressed for time!

books i done read
http://booksidoneread.blogspot.com/
Raych makes me laugh out loud! I love her reviews and her style!

Dreadlock Girl
http://www.dreadlockgirl.com/
Bethany is a gentle soul who leads a fascinating life of little boys, travel and reading. She's pointed me to so many good reads, including my current: North of Beautiful by Justina Chen Headley. Here is her short review!

Jennifer McGuire, ink
http://jennifermcguireink.typepad.com/my_weblog/
Jennifer is a stamper par excellence! I love her projects and her heart--and her technique videos!

Moxie Fab World
http://www.moxiefabworld.com/
Cath Edvalson scours the paper crafting world for inspiration and trends!

Kelly Rae Roberts
http://kellyraeroberts.blogspot.com/
I found Kelly Rae when I ordered her book, Taking Flight, for the craft collection at our library. She is an artist and inner explorer. She has inspired me to work to become more "myself". If I could adopt her, I would! If you like her work, you can purchase on her website or you could visit The Gift Horse in Topsfield for some of her work reprinted by Demdaco.

Whatever
http://whatever.scalzi.com/
John Scalzi, one of my favorite writers, hosts this website full of his thoughts about writing, life, politics, movies, and more. It's hard to describe, so you just have to go there and poke around. And...if you haven't read any of his books, remedy that VERY soon! One favorite is The Android's Dream, and you really should try his Old Man's War Universe books starting with Old Man's War!

Creative Organizing at simplify101.com
http://creativeorganizing.typepad.com/creative_organizing/
Aby Garvey is one of my favorite online people! She's helped me reduce some of the clutter in my home! If you get a chance and have the time, take one of her online organizing courses. They are reasonably priced for the content and access to classmates in an easy to use forum. I'm a fan for life!

Bits&Pieces
http://cathyzielske.typepad.com/my_weblog/
Cathy Zielske is one of the funniest scrapbookers I (virtually) know! I like her sense of humor and her stories of her life and the simple design tips she shares. She also teaches awesome online classes for Big Picture Scrapbooking!

Well, there you have it--my list of blog reading essentials! I love how the web has enabled my world to become both bigger and smaller! Looking back at the list, I must not be really pressed for time--there are a LOT of blogs posted! Enjoy them, and let me know if I should add any must-reads to Google Reader. I have time for more!

Accept

2009-09-17T21:40:00.005-04:00

One of the things I've been working on for the past 6 months is to recognize and FEEL my feelings. To quote my daughter when she was a toddler, "I no yike dat!" (Just say it out loud and you'll get it!) Well, that's only partially true. I LOVE when I recognize a positive feeling like contentment or pleasure, and I love even more that I'm beginning to enjoy feeling happy without immediately squashing it "because it won't last". And, I don't like the negative emotions.

I often don't know how to define the feelings I have--beyond the very obvious ones. More specific labels are more difficult to recognize. So, I wander around spending time taking my emotional temperature. It's progress that I have even realized that my emotions are happening even if I'm not aware. They certainly have made themselves apparent at some inopportune times!

For the past couple of years, I've been adding a tiny prayer for myself at Mass or when saying my Rosary. It started as part of a desire to change my life and as part of a "One Little Word" challenge on Ali Edwards' blog. My first word was "peace". I asked for peace in the world, peace in my family and peace in my heart. I must say I could feel some changes in that time.

This year my word is "accept". This concept is a little amorphous for me, but the word is insistent that it is mine for the year! I agree, and find that it means different things at different times. It is, and has been, so easy for me to wish and hope that the past had been different and for me to assume that the future will be more of the same struggle. Right now, what I need to accept is where I am at the moment. And that place is uncertain and full of fearful excitement and anticipation. Even though I "no yike" feeling my big, scary emotions like anger and fear of being abandoned and not taken care of, there have been enough successful baby-step-feelings that show me that I'm okay on the other side of the emotion to continue to have those uncomfortable moments more and more.

So...I'm accepting that this part of my journey is like getting a little lost. You know you'll find your way back, but being lost is scary. I have some good navigational tools when I remember to use them...being kind to myself; sharing my thoughts with others who can validate and support my experiences; journal about my feelings, meditate and internalize that all my feelings are temporary--the come and go, and will continue to do that for as long as I'm here.

Hey! I made a scrapbook page!

2009-09-08T21:43:00.005-04:00

This layout has been percolating in my head for a while. It uses my blog post from
December 30, 2008. I created it because I like to make pages that reflect my thoughts and feelings. Also, I found a great new website called the Good Grief Blog. It's a great blog with scrapbookers responding to their grief and pain through scrapbooking.

So, here is my layout. If you want to read the words I wrote you can go to this post.

Bullying

2009-09-05T23:13:00.000-04:00

I've always hated bullies. I work very hard to protect others from bullying. I figure I'll get hurt someday facing down a bully...

What a shock it was to discover that I've allowed myself to be bullied for years...

I've been working hard on changing what I think about myself and how I internally talk to myself. My therapist has been gently pointing this out to me for a while, but the following analogy was so vivid that I couldn't help but wake up! She asked me how I would react if my daughter was playing right field on a softball team. My daughter missed a catch and the coach berated her and suggested that she was the worst player. She suggested that she wouldn't even get better with practice and she should just leave the field.

My therapist asked me how I would react, and I pretty much said the coach had better watch her back! She then shared another situation. My daughter was playing right field on a softball team. She missed a catch and the coach said, good try! I bet with more practice you'll get better; let's work together after the game. My reaction this time? I love this coach!

Her point??? Why am I letting the "bad coach" bully me and say such terribly negative things about me? And why do I let it speak to me so relentlessly??? Is it possible that the "good coach" could take over?

Good questions! I rarely even think of other people and their behavior as a bad coach would. I'm so much nicer to other people than I am to myself. Why would I do it to myself? Well, there are myriad and obvious reasons for this, but the real point of this story is this. I've always hated bullies and I can't remember a time when I didn't stand up to them. My will is really strong (how could it not be after so many years of the bad coach blabbing in my head(-; ) so I stood up to this bully, the one inside my mind. I fired her in no uncertain terms. No one treats me like this! I like the supportive coach helping me to get better and cheer me on as I practice new ways to think about myself. I'll admit, sometimes that bully makes an appearance and takes over, but as soon as I notice her, the reinforcements arrive and she's escorted off the field!

So far so good...

Where have I been???

2009-09-03T20:00:00.003-04:00

Well, I dropped off the old blog wagon, didn't I? Late spring and summer were tough months for me. My depression can take me over and makes it difficult to want to do anything.

Lately, my depression has let up and I've been doing a few more things that are fun and more active. I spent a bunch of time taking classes at www.simplify101.com. It has been amazing to me how much getting some control of my physical space helped me to feel better about myself. Who wouldn't want to keep going with that???

Anywhoo, I've been taking online classes at simplify101 and making Cards for Heroes--another thing that has taken myself out of my depressed head. I spent a day and a half making cards recently, in response to a challenge that one of my scrapbooking pals issued. It was amazing to me how much I thought about the soldiers who would receive these cards that they will use to send home to their loved ones and friends.

Not much with poetry lately (or reading for that matter). It is so hard for me to concentrate on anything during a depression...

I had an unexpected reaction last weekend to Senator Ted Kennedy's funeral. I was stunned on the day he died, feeling like something was missing. Even though I am not very political, I can't deny the effect the Kennedy family has had in America. Anyway, I happened to turn on the TV last weekend and caught a bit of the arrival of the Kennedy family outside the church and I watched the procession of his casket into the church.

I've been to many funerals; I've sung at funeral masses--my favorite to do because it's such a comfort to the family, and I've certainly seen my share on TV...At not one other funeral did I cry--sob--so much. I felt bad for the Kennedy family, but I was aware that the real reason I was crying was 1) because his funeral reminded me of my Dad's and 2) I couldn't display this kind of grief at Daddy's funeral.

I held my emotions in check at Daddy's funeral for a couple of reasons. I was very uncomfortable crying in front of other people and I didn't want to call attention to myself. I also felt very much that if I cried, I'd never stop and I couldn't let that happen. I'm still struggling with that one ;-)... Well, I cried tears for Daddy and for the little girl who couldn't cry and for the Kennedy's and their pain and, although tired when I finished, I felt better.

I've discovered that my grief is like that--in the way back of my mind until something like this triggers it. I'm working really hard to just accept it and feel it when it happens now instead of questioning why this is still happening and what triggered it. Feeling my feelings is REALLY hard for me but I'm doing it anyway in the hopes that they don't run over me like a mack truck and to learn that I'll be OK during and after the feeling. Toward that effort, I'm also trying to take time each day to reminisce and invite my feelings to come up and then FEEL them for goodness sake!

It's a journey...not a destination. Sending good wishes out into the world.

2009-04-20T21:13:00.007-04:00

I can't get any further with this poem today...
Here's the start...
______________________

Paper clutter covers the dining table;
Rubber stamps and ink are scattered with
an e-xacto knife and ribbon trimmings;
glue and glitter, pens and punches
are witness to the creative soul at work.

April 20, 2009

Happy Birthday, Mom

2009-04-18T22:09:00.009-04:00

a little baby in your arms
unaware of the world around her
only of the love that is her life

the wishes and dreams
held deep in your soul were
shared heart to heart while in your arms

back and forth in the rocking chair
you soothed and smiled
and gave her everything she needed

years later your baby has a baby of her own
her wishes and dreams are yours
in another time and place

the need of mothers
from the beginning of time
lives through to another generation

April 19, 2009

A Ditty Because I Can't Focus

2009-04-18T21:45:00.006-04:00

eating is fun
eating is great
eating too much will
make you gain weight

reading is great
reading is fun
when you finish a book
pick up a new one

rhyming is fun
rhyming's a game
and sometimes makes poems
that aren't so lame
(as this one)

April 18, 2009

At the Poetry Reading

2009-04-17T21:22:00.011-04:00

She sits, bored, next to the woman
who shifts in her seat crossing and uncrossing her legs.

Why did her mother bring her here?
It's just a bunch of old people reading boring poems.

She claps politely after every speaker,
wondering why the woman beside her doesn't get up.

Watching her out of the corner of her eye,
she sees the woman's hands crease and re-crease a folded paper.

What is this woman waiting for?
What's so hard about reading a silly poem?

Finally! The woman starts to get up, hesitates,
and stands up, excusing herself as she carefully walks past.

The woman looks worried as she smooths out her paper.
In a quiet voice she introduces herself and tells us this is her first time.

Clearing her throat, she smooths the paper again,
and begins to read her poem, her voice getting stronger as she continues.

As the woman finishes the poem,
the girl, who dismissed the idea of reading poetry, is changed.

The woman's voice made her listen,
listen harder than she'd ever listened to any words in her life.

As the woman walked back to her seat,
she kept her head down, but there was a smile on her face.

The girl moves her legs to let the woman
back to her seat. Their eyes meeting, she sees satisfaction,
and feels it herself.

April 17, 2009

She Needs a Break

2009-04-15T21:29:00.007-04:00

The "little girl whose Daddy died" has worked really hard. She's grieved; she's been loyal to the memory of her Daddy; she's tried really hard not to be too happy too often so she wouldn't be disappointed when the sad times came again; she's been my fierce protector.

She's done her best and it's time I let her rest. I'm sure she'll be relieved to be excused from this huge job she's performed for 33 years! She'll be in a special place in my heart, especially since she worked so hard for me and taken such good care of me. But it's now my turn to take good care of her. It's my turn to reassure her that the good and the bad and the funny and the sad are all part of the flow of life and that each feeling has its time and place and life is an iterative process (I just love that word--"iterative"! I should adopt it and remind myself of the concept often!!!)

Thich Nhat Hahn says "You are more than your emotions." I try to remember that and live it everyday. By letting her take a well deserved rest, I think I will be more successful in internalizing the ebb and flow of emotions I feel.

So, thank you little girl, I really appreciate all that you've done to keep me together for all these years. Rest, relax and enjoy the young life that you had. I hope you'll enjoy the person you've helped to create. I love you and it's my turn to help you feel better.

Visit, then home

2009-04-14T23:07:00.004-04:00

The wheels of the book truck squeak as
it drives them home.
Long weeks, sometimes months of
being away makes them eager to sleep
on their own shelves again.

Tomorrow they'll hang over the back edge
recalling their journeys near and far,
sharing memories from the trip,
happy to be home, and ready for a rest.
Soon enough, boredom will set in;

neighbors' tales begin to grate.
Tired of hearing the same old story,
and longing for another adventure
each tries hard to attract, waits to be chosen.
Each dreams of new places to explore.

April 14, 2009

Poetry Catch-Up

2009-04-13T19:51:00.007-04:00

The Easter holiday finds me behind on my poetry and posting. In reverse writing order, here are two new poems.

NaPoWriMo Prompt #8 (from ReadWritePoem)

Please forgive your son, Mrs. Fillippi,
he was young and in love
and had no other way of expressing
how he felt about her,
the new girl in 3rd grade.

Tall and plump other kids called
her names like giraffe and elephant.
Wondering what to believe,
she ignored the name calling and
played by herself.

Whether it was pity or admiration,
he found himself waiting around the edges
of the playground watching her,
swallowing his fear as he approached
her to ask her to play with him during recess.

After a few weeks, he fell in love;
no one could penetrate his devotion
to her. One day he brought her
a token of his love--
a beautiful ring full of colorful stones.

Worn with pride for the rest of the day,
she left school with it clutched in her sweaty palm.
Kept safe in a box in her room, she
peeked at the ring all night and brought
it back to school the next day.

Afterschool, innocently playing
on the swings, a stranger drove into the
driveway and parked her station wagon. He
slowly got out of the car with a woman
who looked mad.

Yes, she mumbled, he gave me a ring
yesterday. The cold silence scared her
as she handed the ring back to him. You
grabbed his arm and hurried him back
to the car all the while hissing your anger.

At school the next day, he was too embarrassed
to talk to her. It was over;
he'd made a mistake and paid for it.
Forgive your son, Mrs. Fillippi,
young love makes young men act rashly.

April 13, 2009

Good Friday

How can I thank You
for the gift of Your son's sacrifice.
I ask for Your grace as I honor
Jesus' life--the life He lived for me.
I ask for Your mercy when I fail to remember
how much Jesus loves me now and forever.
Please help me to accept the love
You've shown me through Your son.

April 10, 2009

Voices

2009-04-08T21:03:00.006-04:00

Today's poem is inspired by this phrase "when all the noise is silenced" found here and in Kelly Rae Roberts' book Taking Flight found here. Thank you Kelly for your inspiration for my poems twice this week!

cacophony of sound is in my head always
preventing me from hearing myself
insisting i listen to the noise of judgement
doubt loathing fear uncertainty

infernal speech interrupting my thoughts
drowning out voices of reason
comfort trust safety love
that are waiting for me to hear

so many years of hearing their talk
listening to their voices
believing they told the truth
i regret giving them so much power

truth is subjective and influenced by experience
my truth is about to change
confident now voices of reason
trust can be heard during the quiet

eager to explore these new thoughts
trying to turn up their volume
i wonder who will i be
when Babel is toppled again

April 8, 2009

All grown up

2009-04-07T18:34:00.005-04:00

Using prompt #7 to write about nicknames at ReadWritePoem, here's today's entry.

"My name is Diane and I want you to call me that;
I will not respond to Dee Dee any more,"
she said on her fourteenth birthday. So eager to
grow up and and leave behind her younger days.
DeeDee, huh. That's a name for a little girl,
a girl who still believes that the bird sings only for her.

Listen closely to the song in the trees.
Hear it? Listen closely...
hear the bird calling your name--
chicka-dee-dee-dee
chicka-dee-dee-dee
chicka-dee-dee-dee.

"My name is not DeeDee; it's Diane!"

You are special, but not just to me.
Listen, do you hear the birds singing your name?
Even the birds know you are special,
chicka-dee-dee-dee
chicka-dee-dee-dee
chicka-dee-dee-dee.

"Why don't you people understand, my name is Diane!"

chicka-dee-dee-dee

"I don't want to be called that!"

chicka-dee-dee-dee

"Alright, just don't call me that in public!"

chicka-dee-dee-dee

April 7, 2009

Conversations in a Library

2009-04-06T19:25:00.005-04:00

Today's poem contains thoughts about a conversation I had at the library today.

Hearing that books will die
is distressing for one who loves them,
but is a distinct possibility
in a few generations.

There is no cause for worry
for the book is only a vessel
for the stories it contains
and those will live forever.

Our stories are comfort
and history and justice;
stories live in our memories,
our hearts and our souls.

Stories tell more about us than
we would like, and can be twisted toward
our own ends. Stories are dangerous
and necessary to our survival.

The book is a vessel
for our lies and our truths.
It is up to us to listen
and know the difference.

April 6, 2009

Poem for Today

2009-04-05T22:07:00.004-04:00

Here is today's poem.

what does one write
when one believes she has
nothing to say?

this poem?
maybe one is tired
and should get some rest.

April 5, 2009

I Love the Moon

2009-04-04T23:32:00.004-04:00

Using NaPoWriMo's starter #4, this is today's poem.

I can never find the big dipper
The little dipper escapes me too
It's not that I live in the city
Orion's Belt is easy to view

The moon goes through it's monthly cycle
As mine moves me gentle and true
Poets write sonnets and verse to la lune
I write in honor of you

Many women decry your great power
Afraid the gods have conspired
In tune with the song singing through me
Energies awake I create am inspired

For you not very much longer
Remember when the moon's in your view
Stars light the sky with some sparkle
But the moon glows only for you

April 4, 2009

Hope

2009-04-03T21:10:00.005-04:00

Today's poem is inspired by Kelly Rae Roberts' blog post

pretend until you're not pretending anymore
that's what the blog post says
that's what the therapist suggests

not much inspires her although
the casual observer would hardly notice
pretend until you're not pretending anymore

days go by and her hope erodes
as the depression lingers on
pretend until you're not pretending anymore

she doesn't believe she is capable
of imagining a future beyond this time
pretend until you're not pretending anymore

smile even when you don't feel happy
eventually you'll be happier
pretend until you're not pretending anymore

believe that your circumstances will change
and notice when they do
pretend until you're not pretending anymore

picture the life you want to have
keep reminders everywhere
pretend until you're not pretending anymore

pretend until you're not pretending anymore
that's what the blog post says
that's what the therapist suggests
that's what the woman is trying to do

April 3, 2009

What is it about bedtime?

2009-04-02T22:34:00.003-04:00

Today's poem is a direct result of my daughter and my nightly ritual.

One of my favorite parts of the day
is reading to you and snuggling with you
for a few minutes each night.
For me it is a peaceful way to end the day,
a time of closeness and closure,
a moment of grace and reassurance that
I am a good mother to you.

For you, I imagine this routine
serves a similar purpose: a peaceful
ending to a long day of schoolyard
politics and immense learning;
a time to snuggle close and be
my little girl again; the only
time in the day when you have
my undivided attention.

How sorry am I when I tell you
that it's time to go to sleep and
for me to leave the warmth
of our moments of connection and comfort.
Sorry because our nightly mother-daughter
moment turns into a nightly battle of wills.
You want me to stay, and I need to leave.

I want to snuggle with you and I often long
to just stay comfortably in your bed, but I
know that I can't. Once you're settled in bed,
I can take some time to rejuvenate and recenter.
I can read, write or craft. I need this time
to remind myself that I am worth nurturing
and spending the same kind of quality time on
as I do with you.

I know I can't explain my needs to your satisfaction.
I only hope that you remember
when you are a mother to take care of your self
as well as you take care of your child. If that is what happens,
I'll be assured that I am a good mother. Sleep peacefully
for tomorrow is another day, and tomorrow night a new
chapter to our story. I know you'll love the ending we created.

April 2, 2009

April Is a Great Month

2009-04-01T19:19:00.008-04:00

Here it is. My favorite month. (Drum roll please!) April!

It's my birthday month! It contains National Library Week! It is National Poetry Month! And, it's NaPoWriMo. This year I'm in! Basically, I'll write a poem every day in April. Not expecting big things, but I've been really wanting to touch my creative side more often and I love poetry.

I can't think of a much nicer way to celebrate my birth month.

Here's today's Poem:

I know where I've been.
I know where I am.
I don't know where I'm going.

I know where I am.
I don't know where I'm going.
I only want to get there.

I don't know where I'm going.
I only want to get there.
I need to respect the road.

I only want to get there.
I need to respect the road.
I believe the road is true.

I need to respect the road.
I believe the road is true.
I want to enjoy the journey.

I believe the road is true.
I want to enjoy the journey.
I will go where it leads.

April 1, 2009

Bullying

2009-03-11T18:18:00.006-04:00

I've always hated bullies. I work very hard to protect others from bullying.

What a shock it was to discover that I've allowed myself to be bullied for years...

I've been working hard on changing what I think about myself and how I internally talk to myself. My therapist has been gently pointing this out to me for a while, but the following analogy was so vivid that I couldn't help but wake up! She asked me how I would react if my daughter was playing right field on a softball team. My daughter missed a catch and the coach berated her and suggested that she was the worst player. She suggested that she wouldn't even get better with practice and she should just leave the field.

My therapist asked me how I would react, and I pretty much said the coach had better watch her back! She then shared another situation. My daughter was playing right field on a softball team. She missed a catch and the coach said, good try! I bet with more practice you'll get better; let's work together after the game. My reaction this time? I love this coach!

Her point??? Why am I letting the "bad coach" bully me and say such terribly negative things about me? And why do I let it speak to me so relentlessly??? Is it possible that the "good coach" could take over?

Good questions! I rarely even think of other people and their behavior as a bad coach would. Why would I do it to myself? Well, there are myriad and obvious reasons for this, but the real point of this story is this. I've always hated bullies and I can't remember a time when I didn't stand up to them. My will is really strong (how could it not be after so many years of the bad coach blabbing in my head(-; ) so I stood up to this bully, the one inside my mind. I fired her in no uncertain terms. No one treats me like this! I like the supportive coach helping me to get better and cheer me on as I practice new ways to think about myself. I'll admit, sometimes that bully makes an appearance and takes over, but as soon as I notice her, the reinforcements arrive and she's escorted off the field!

So far so good...

Courage & Unlearning

2009-03-09T18:13:00.006-04:00

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are." e.e. cummings

For the life of me, I can't remember where I recently read this quote, but it immediately struck a chord in me. I can't remember (are you sensing a current theme in my life???) how many times I've talked to my therapist about my wondering understanding of who I am becoming!

Learning about who I am when I peel away all the layers of protection that I've built up over the 30-plus years of coping with Daddy's death and my loss is truly scary. Mr. Cummings had it right (and he also suffered from depression!)--it does take courage and faith and hard work!

I'd always characterized myself as having a lot of traits, but courage was not one of them--at least not the kind of courage it took to really feel all the feelings that came with losing a parent at the tender "tween age".

I'm so grateful to be learning that I have the courage it takes to examine my past and current feelings. While there are MANY ups and downs, and the downs seem more frequent than the ups lately, I am proud of myself for doing the work and discovering I am a courageous person.

A lot of the courage I need is to unlearn behaviors and the feelings that preceeded and followed them. Stacy Julian noted in a blog post last week her thoughts about being creative in a world of old ideas (my words--read hers, they're terrific!), of changing the way we frame our thoughts. This is all I'm doing right now; I'm learning new ways to think and these ways just don't FIT into my old way of thinking. It's like trying to put a round peg in a square hole; they're both shapes and both useful but won't mesh together.

I'm unlearning and, while it's scary and hard, it's also exhilarating and I'm so appreciative of what I'm (un)learning about myself! I'm not entirely sure I know who it is I'm becoming, but I've got to believe that I'm going to like this person.

Landslide

2009-01-05T20:07:00.010-05:00

"Well, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I built my life around you..."

I'm sure that Stevie Nicks wasn't thinking about her father when she wrote the lyrics to this song, but I think she was talking about the place I'm at right now... She wrote the song before she hit it big with Fleetwood Mac and was working to figure out where she was going with her life. While she viewed the Colorado mountains and contemplated an avalanche, I've experienced a landslide all my own.

Each time I've heard this specific line of the song lyrics, it has struck a chord with me. It wasn't until very recently, and with the help of my therapist, that I really began to understand what it means to me.

I'm at a point where I marvel at the amount of work my brain did to create a set of rigid "rules" about my Dad and his death for me to believe in. Things like: being happy is an affront to Daddy's memory; being sad is the only feeling I can have about Daddy's death; if only I had been good enough Daddy wouldn't have died; don't share your feelings with anyone because they won't understand; don't have feelings because you don't understand them; my anger caused Daddy to die, etc...

My landslide was the recent avalanche of feelings that would overwhelm me at the most inopportune (i.e. whenever I wasn't ready to deal with them) moments. When I noticed that the sum total of my feelings consisted of rage, anger, frustration, and the accompanying bewilderment of where this was all coming from, I realized I was in another deep depression. It took me a while to realize that I was depressed again, because these feelings weren't my usual clue that I was depressed. As a matter of fact, it was these feelings that made me wonder what the heck was going on.

I'd never (well, very rarely) let myself feel anger and rage, and now I couldn't stop feeling these emotions. I've discovered that the anger I was feeling is in direct conflict with one of my heretofore inviolable rules and I believe that caused my crisis resulting in depression. What could I do now??? I was caught in a landslide of feelings I didn't understand and I couldn't fight my way out. Fortunately, I have learned some depression survival skills and I contacted my therapist.

I've realized that I have been afraid of changing how I feel about Daddy's death, and I've discovered that I need to rebuild the beliefs that I built around Daddy's death. I'm afraid because I don't know any other way to behave--I have 32 years of unusual coping skills to evaluate and change. The need to let go of these coping skills that are no longer working and to honor Daddy in a healthy way is so compelling that I can't continue to live like I did.

I am taking baby steps and the first ones are to be able to identify what I'm feeling and then to just feel them. I guess my slogan should echo Nike's: Just Feel It. So, that's what I'm doing and I'm grateful that hearing the Dixie Chicks sing "Landslide" tonight reminded me that I am changing even though I'm still afraid.

Mom,

2008-12-31T12:55:00.003-05:00

I appreciated your email of support and I think that posting my response to your email will help me to work through some stuff and explain it to you and DB...

I know that I can trust you and that you love me. I'm struggling with feelings that are so deeply buried that I'm surprised by them when the come up. I never had the chance to grow up and away from Daddy in the way I did with you when I was a teenager. I think that's why I still idolize him in the way a child does. I'm still a child in my heart when it comes to thinking about Daddy--I still feel very child like feelings for him and his presence in my childhood. That's one of the reasons I think I'm having such a hard time letting all of this go. I knew I was taking a risk putting some of my thoughts and feelings out there for all (mostly you and DB!) to see, but I have such a hard time talking about all of this in person. I think the added layer of a blog or email makes it a bit easier for me.

I also worry A LOT that what I'm feeling will hurt you and so that's another reason why it's so hard to talk about it in person--I can barely cope with my own feelings that the idea of having to cope with what I imagine yours would be is scary. I know that doesn't give you much credit for having already grieved and being much further ahead than me, but, the pre-teen me is still worried about upsetting you. I know that it's not my job to protect you, but I'm still very aware that you lost your childhood sweetheart--the love of your life. If Daddy was the love of my childhood life, I can only imagine how much more you loved him!

Unfortunately, taking my pain away to a metaphorical (and sometimes actual) closet to cope with has been the way I've coped for years. I think our family coped with our stunned feelings that way--were all in our little corners feeling pain and not knowing how to find comfort in each other. I feel very sad about that, but I don't yet have the skills to find comfort in anyone else right now. That's one of the things I'm working on in therapy--how much comfort can I tolerate from anyone else. It seems silly to say out loud, but it's a big thing right now for me to let someone else attempt to comfort me with a tissue, or a kind word or a hug.

I think this struggle is as hard now as it would have been then, but now I have a third party to help me through it--someone for whom the burden of my feelings isn't so personal. I also have the added benefit of adult perspective to help me through. Thanks for writing to me and I love you very much! Thank you for listening/reading and not judging me and my feelings.

1976

2008-12-30T19:37:00.008-05:00

As I was driving one day a couple of weeks ago, a radio announcer mentioned a year--1981 or something. Immediately I referenced this date with the year Daddy died. At that moment, I became aware that I always--and I mean always--use 1976 as a pivot point when determining how long ago something happened.

I have many other dates from which to choose: my birth date, the date I graduated from HS, my wedding date, my child's birth year... yet 1976 is the year I automatically think about when determining a period of time. I know why this is so. I have thought of myself as a girl whose father died for the past 32 years. I am always aware of how many years it has been since Daddy died.

As I had this automatic thought, my second thought was that I needed to find different ways to reference the passage of time. I had very mixed feelings about this realization. I felt a mixture of sorrow and relief. On the one hand, using 1976 is something I'm very used to and it's comfortable. It also serves to remind me that Daddy is dead and I have spent 32 years loyal to his memory. To stop referencing his death strikes me as disloyal to his memory.

On the other hand, by using this date I'm continually reinforcing the "I'm a girl whose father is dead" thought. This thought is in direct conflict with my efforts to grieve and become healthier. And, I can't believe that the father that knew me and loved me would want me to be miserable--this is not honoring his memory. The relief I felt was one of being set free from the burden of keeping such a strict vigil to the memory of Daddy.

This is the path I'm on: to grieve and to set myself (and my poor father!) free from the rigid thoughts I've used since I was 11 to cope with Daddy's death. As I mentioned in a previous post, this is truly hard for me. I don't have the one person I felt totally comfortable with, Daddy, to help me through it. Oh, the irony! Well, if I've been strong enough to repress my feelings and create an elaborate thought process for which I've built a life, I'm strong enough to work through these feelings and thoughts and come out healthier and with more understanding of myself and this truly tragic and defining event in my life. I have faith that I can, with help!, do this. I don't know what the paths through this journey will be, but I do know that I'll be a happier, more content, more accepting ME when I'm on the other side.

How Do You Feel Today?

2008-12-28T17:14:00.006-05:00

My mother and brother left today after a 4 day visit with us for Christmas. We had a great time together, and we rarely get to spend this much time at one visit. After they left this morning, my daughter was very sad. She looked distressed and when I asked her what was wrong she told me she missed her Nana and Uncle. As she was crying in my lap, she told me that she felt like something was missing--Nana and Uncle's leaving left a piece missing in the house.

As I held my daughter while she cried and talked to me about how she was feeling, I had a parallel thought that I need to comfort myself the way I do with her. I make a very conscious and deliberate decision each time she is experiencing any emotion to support her through it. To be there for her; not to try to fix it, but to let her FEEL it in a safe, loving and supportive way.

Even before I entered therapy and discovered that I had a very hard time feeling anything but ennui, depression, anger, frustration, and impatience with my feelings, I knew that I needed to help my daughter to grow up emotionally healthier than I did. It is so fascinating to learn what helping her is teaching me. I am by no means as well versed as she is in handling her emotions!

I'm spending quite a bit of time in therapy, and in my life outside the hour of therapy every two weeks, trying to identify what I am feeling. Once I recognize what I'm feeling, I'm working very hard on just feeling them--accepting that they are a part of me. As I think back over the past few months of this practice, I have to laugh at how limited my vocabulary was--and how basic my feelings were. Most of the feelings I could identify were sadness, anger, frustration and rage. Shortly after that, the feeling and label for "disappointment" became part of my repertoire. It was soon after that my therapist found a sheet of line drawn faces that showed and labeled about 70 emotions. This has been so helpful to me!

For me, it was (and still is) easiest to feel sad or feel nothing after my father died. Even sadness was pushed away in favor of closing myself off from all emotions. When you've spent a lot of time (like 30 years!) spending most of your time pushing away how you are feeling, it isn't very long before you can't identify all those feelings you haven't been feeling!

Much of my depression is the result of not being able to identify and accept my feelings. I admit that this may seem ridiculous for some people to understand. You ask, "What's so hard about knowing what's going on in your head?" Feelings are scary when you don't know how you'll react, when you haven't given yourself the opportunity to practice them. Happiness, anger and grief can feel really weird if you're not experienced with it. And for me, happiness and emotions of that ilk felt disloyal to my father who had just (or 5 or 10 or 30 years later) died.

I've recently joked that it is much easier to just not feel anything--I'm very good at that! It's exhausting identifying and experiencing emotions and I'm not really good at it yet! But I am committed to this process and to the process of grieving in a fuller way than I ever have before. If that means crying jags because I'll never have Daddy back or incredible rage at the unfairness of it all, that's what it means.

I'm so grateful to have a very supportive husband and the ability to afford therapy and medication to help me stay stable and able to work through these feelings. I'm also blessed to have a daughter to help show me the way to my feelings.

Christmas...

2008-12-22T21:06:00.004-05:00

...doesn't usually make me sadder than usual. On the contrary, I have very fond memories of Christmas as a child. It's these memories that can help me through some rough times, but my focus this year is on inviting Daddy to be present with me.

I wish with all my heart that he could come back; that we could go back before he got sick and died. I wish I could have lived my life with him. In person. In real, living flesh. I wish I could have spent my teenaged years fighting with him to become a young woman instead of spending them shut down so that I wouldn't feel the pain of his not being with me.

The 11 year old in me still wishes he would come back. She still wishes that it had been someone else's Daddy that died. She still can't understand why he got sick and medicine couldn't help him. She still feels the deep, soul-wrenching pain that came when he died. She felt her heart break the day she walked home from school and KNEW at the first footstep onto the driveway that he was dead. She--I--still wants him back.

My grown up self understands that Daddy can't come back to me. I understand that what happened happened and it was rando--or maybe not. Whether his illness and death was random or fate or an opportunity for me to learn something in this life, he--his body, his words of wisdom, his jokes, his terrific back scratches--is gone.

What is not gone are my memories and my sense that Daddy is watching over me even now. He's proud of me. He wishes he could be with me. He does not want me to suffer the way I have been. I want to hear from him though, not in a seance kind of way, but I want to feel his presence in my life.

So, I'm inviting him in. I'm inviting him to be with me as I go about my daily business. I'm opening my heart to him again. I don't know what will happen or how I'll feel or even IF I feel anything. But, I want the possibility, and, I want to heal that tear in my heart.

Why I am here, redux

2008-12-22T18:37:00.003-05:00

While I wonder if anyone really cares about my process of grief, I figure, my family might be interested. Others might be as well, so here I am.

I've often wanted to meet and talk with other adults who lost a parent when they were old enough to remember the parent, but young enough to have not really been able to process the loss (i.e. grieve). I was 11 years old.

I feel very alone in my experiences and, with the exception of my husband who lost his father when he was in college, have never met anyone whose parent died when they were young. At this point, no one I know, except for my family members, knew my father. At times, this makes me so sad and I wish so much that my husband and child, especially, could have met him.

I'll be posting somewhat regularly on this blog as I work through the grief that I held deep inside of me for the past 32 years. I'll explore why I did this; what my feelings were and are, and anything else that I feel is relevant.

Comments are welcome, but please remember that I want this to be a space that is safe and caring and I will delete comments that I believe are hurtful or don't serve any useful purpose in this discussion here.

DLG