Preparing for Ernesto and Other Storms

With Tropical Storm Ernesto beginning to approach my home and perhaps gain in strength to become Hurricane Ernesto, I follow my pre-storm ritual of scanning the yard for potential projectiles. What might unexpectedly become a weapon thrust at my home? The skeleton of a forgotten potted plant encased in a clay bowl that could be thrown at my windows? It’s as if nature is about to riot around us and we must find its armory before the soldiers of wind and rain attack our domicile fortresses. I realize I’m used to this type of preparation, and not just because I physically retraced these steps more times than anticipated last year.

It’s also something that I do emotionally whenever I feel a large internal storm brewing. In preparation for any type of conflict, I scan my internal horizon to identify any emotional or mental projectiles that may be used as weapons against me. I try to minimize the impending damage by removing my vulnerabilities from view and assuming a defensive stance. Preparation depends on the size of the storm – am I sitting for an annual work review or am I protesting a charge on my credit card?

Either way, I have my supplies at hand while I attempt to anticipate its path. And, either way, the storm passes and all returns back to normal until the next well defined circle on my radar.

And How Does That Make You Feel...

“You’re not like the rest of us, Angela” he earnestly explained. I stoically waited for more.
“When things happen around you, you automatically know what you think and how to act. You’re the kind of person that someone would want next to them in a foxhole during war. There is no ambiguity to you.”
I found those comments to be interesting. How could I not know what I think about something, or anything?
Looking back, though, I had not always felt this way. Times in my life when I wasn’t sure who I was, ever-changing, so how could I know what to think or how to react? Times when I was so obsessed with how others thought of me, or gaining their acceptance, that I was too worried about saying or doing the “wrong” thing that I wasn’t sure what was right.
It was during those times that I was the most miserable, most insecure that I’ve ever been. I guess it just wasn’t okay to be ME, I needed to be all other things to those around me. In needing this acceptance, I lost, no wait, I GAVE AWAY my power. No surprise that there were ungracious takers of this power, waiting for me to relinquish.
It took almost two years for me to regain it, at least two years from the point that I realized it was gone. Easily enough, it all started with me asking myself the questions: “What do I think about this? Do I like this or not? Is this for me or not?” If the answers were positive, I reaffirmed those things in my life, if the answers were negative, I rid myself of those items, or at least limited my exposure. It took courage and thick skin but I eventually made enough headway to get going and once it did, there was no stopping me.
I can tell you how I feel on just about any topic at any time, and you know what? I’m okay with my answers, whether people like them or not, because it’s ME who has to live with those choices, and that’s how I feel about that!

Disclosure

Whispers from the dark trying to make their way to light.
I can hear the sounds swarming around inside my head but they don’t yet form words.
Ideas, thoughts, energy, swirling, getting ready to disclose the answers to a mystery.
There, but not.
Like a child sounding out her first word, knowing it’s meaning but unable to enlighten others.
I can feel it gaining momentum, ready to release knowledge into my conscious mind and solve my ambivalence.

My Way

I laugh in spite of myself. Always so serious, trying to force my life to happen MY WAY (Frankie S. had it right). That is the exact point in which it all unravels and I become undone. It’s when I stop and decide I am a loser and can’t figure out my life like I should be able to. I let it go for awhile, have a couple of glasses of wine, and beg a friend to listen intently as I droll on about how I can’t find the exact meaning of my life. Within a day or two, it happens. Hard to say exactly what it is, almost like a CLICK, you know, when everything falls into place? An epiphany is thrust upon me and suddenly I get it. I GET IT. With clarity I see my vision, my place, my truth, my potential. I rejoice. Then, I laugh. Viewing me like this is funny. It happens the same way, every time. If I could only see what I was in while I was in it, and I could consciously make the choice to release it, then my peace would come. It always does. Evolvement, I guess.

Lunch Chatter

She laughed and I laughed, but we both knew it was true and there was nothing funny about it. Here we were approaching mid-life with still nothing to say to each other. Reminiscing over yesteryear’s follies was the only interaction we could muster. Sad that we could go no further. It was unsafe to proceed past some unofficial line in time – we dare not cross for fear of speaking and addressing those topics not meant for lunch.

Rhythmic Dance in the Mundane

I strive to look at life through the eyes of a dreamer, the heart of a healer, and the mind of a philosopher. I scan my life for everyday poetry, the rhythmic dance in the mundane. The gentle swing of the non-descript.

Heart Congruence

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled, and I wasn’t sure if she was kidding. Is this how it was going to be, a conversation in double-entendres, with me never knowing what she is really trying to tell me? I hate that. Just spit it out. If you don’t like me fine, just be honest with it and stop all the child’s play. At some point, I should think we grow up, stop putting on a pretty face, and either say what we actually mean, or walk away. Why the pretend? Life is too short for living incongruently with our heart.