I Heart America

I don't know where to start with this. I have a million thoughts and a million emotions right now and I'm trying to sort through it all to express it in an articulate manner.  So I'll just start by rambling....

I offended a friend on Facebook the other day with a post. An American friend. It wasn't my intention.....at all. I disagree with almost everything he thinks and says but I like him and respect him and I get a kick out of him. Agreeing with him isn't required to be his friend.

I post things about gun control (which I believe in) and equality for gender and sexuality (which I believe in) and OH-MY-GOD-TRUMP-IS-A-FUCKING-DANGEROUS-ORANGE-PSYCHO (which I also believe). I have relatives in Texas who own handguns and while that makes me feel twitchy it doesn't make me love or respect them any less. They are truly some of the finest people I know.

People talk about how friendly Canadians are. We aren't. Polite? Absolutely. Friendly? Not so much. Americans are friendly.... incredibly friendly. They chat you up at the gas station and on public transit and on the street. They are curious and open and direct. I like that about them. I really love Americans and I enjoy spending time in the US.

American friends and family - here is what I want you to know. I get why you feel like the world is critical of you. I get why you feel like we don't understand. I get why you feel defensive. Here's what I don't think you get....

We love you. We worry about you and we worry about your children. From the outside looking in, it's terrifying. We want your gay nephew to be able to walk down the street without fear of violence. We want your children to go to school without having to worry about a lunatic gunning them down. We want your peaceful Muslim neighbour to feel safe (and for you to feel safe around them too). We want this because we care about you, not because we're being critical.

There have been 70 people killed in the US due to mass shootings so far in June 2016. We are only half way through the month. It hurts to watch. It's unnecessary and heartbreaking and we worry about you.

This blog post isn't about gun control. It's not about Donald Trump. It's not about a political stance. It's not about fear or anger or violence or judgement. It's about love. When I went to look for an image to post with this blog I didn't choose the one of the American flag tattered and torn and burned (it was one of the first that came up when I did a google image search).

I chose the one in the shape of a heart because the world loves you and we just want you to be safe.

Turtle

My kids (and nephew/faux son Adam) call me 'Turtle'. They have other even less flattering names for me but I'll save those for another blog post. They've done this for years... it started when we lived in a large house with hardwood floors; my sons discovered that they were taller and stronger than me. They decided to tackle me to the floor one day when they realized that with very little effort, they could keep me there, completely helpless - like a turtle on it's back.  

Pinning me down completely stranded on my back of course wasn't enough. They escalated it - Connor would grab one foot and Jack the other. They would drag me around the house, completely helpless to stop them.  By this point I was usually laughing so hard that I couldn't stop them if I tried. This led to me squealing that I was going to pee my pants which terrified them enough to let me up.

Bridget found the cartoon that I posted at the top of the page. She laughed when she showed it to me. "Mom! It's you!! It's a turtle that always looks at the positive in a shitty situation."  I have been such a pissy pants for the past month and her words inspired me to be that person again. If I want 2016 to be better, it's time to start viewing it that way. It's always a choice.

No more of this 2015 turtle! Kicking that cranky pants to the curb......

Growth Schmowth

*sigh*

I have a great job. I'm living in a city where many people would give their left arm to live. I have healthy, happy, thriving children (who are moving on with their own lives, HOW DARE THEY??) I'm healthy. I have a roof over my head and a car that gets me from A to B daily. I have the best siblings ever and friends who love me and have my back ferociously.

I feel lost. I feel like I'm swimming in quicksand.

Everything external points towards living the dream and please don't get me wrong; I'm beyond grateful for everything mentioned in paragraph one. When the external is solid there is only one other place to look for why the lost feeling exists.  It's clearly internal.

I've been busy for the past 23 years. Busy with babies and chaos and teenagers and groceries and cooking and bill paying and career building. Suddenly I'm not busy and the lack of distraction is deafening. All the things I've defined myself with for so, so long are no longer tugging at me.

What. The. Fuck?

It happened in the blink of an eye which is, I suppose, part of why I'm standing here looking around thinking "What the hell just happened?" I always assumed this would be a gradual process and that I would be allowed to ease into it bit by bit, like walking into a cold lake on a hot summer day. That's not how it went. I was catapulted into the lake from the shore and holy-jesus-it's-cold-in-here.

It's tempting to just find ways to make myself busy again, to gather distraction the way I used to gather loads and loads of never ending laundry. But that would be a band aid and inevitably band aids fall off, leaving the unresolved issue still very much alive and well.

I want to be 4 again and have my Mom kiss it better. Pretty sure that's not an option.

So. Time to put on my big girl panties, roll up my sleeves and dig in. The seeds of that recognition have already been planted and are starting to grow.  A little. I think.

Step 1: own my shit. This has been humbling, painful and liberating. I don't like it, really....but I like the weight that is lifted because of it. I have been such an asshole in many ways and I want to do better.

Step 2: listening to my intuition. It's powerful. Shockingly powerful. I have been burying it for so long in the name of survival, or what I thought was what I needed to survive that I almost forgot it existed. It feels good to embrace it again.

Step 3: trust. Oy. Trusting people has not been my strong suit and (big recognition) when you don't trust people, you inadvertently create situations where the impending betrayal that you fear becomes a reality. Trusting requires being vulnerable which is terrifying. Here's the kicker - if I trust myself, truly trust that I will be ok no matter what happens, suddenly there is no need to control anything external. Suddenly I am free to let everything unfold and for people around me to have their own experiences, knowing that I will be ok.  Always. So, I'm working on all of it but I'm impatient. I want it to happen quicker.

As the meme says:

L O V E

I've been reflecting a lot lately about love.

I have a lot of love in my life - there are many people in my world who I love and who love me. I'm lucky that way. My kids. My siblings. My friends. What I'm learning is that in order to love them they way they deserve to be loved, I have a long way to go, but I'm learning.

I'm recognizing my shortcomings. I'm recognizing what moulded my perception of love and the conditions surrounding it. I'm learning how I've carried those unhealthy perceptions through relationships in my life. I'm learning that conditional love is completely fear based and how that is entirely about me and my flaws; it has nothing to do with the people who I love.

I've had to dig deep to have these recognitions and it's humbling. Being humbled is necessary and freeing at the same time. It's also really painful. I've had the gift of being unconditionally loved in my life. I know how that feels and the safe space it creates to be open and vulnerable. I'm not good at vulnerable. More fear based shit. I want to work hard to get to the place where I'm healthy enough, brave enough and wise enough to love unconditionally. I think the key is to believe in yourself and trust yourself enough to know that no matter what happens, it's going to be ok. In that space, there is nothing to fear.  I think. I don't know. I'm new at this.

Control. I literally had to grit my teeth to type that word. I despise controlling behaviour in people. Yeah - guess what? It's probably my worst quality. It's a recognition I had about myself several years ago (pointed out lovingly and bluntly by people who love me.... because that's part of love too - calling people on their shit). I'm not nearly as controlling as I used to be but I still have a long way to go. Guess what? Being controlling = MORE fear based shit.

Are we seeing a pattern here?

I have always had a strong aversion to the concept of 'need' where love is concerned. I've never wanted to be needed.  Wanted? Yes. Needed? No. I've also been very reluctant to put myself in a position of needing anyone. I had a big recognition around that this week; not wanting to 'need' is about not trusting the person I love but even more so it's really about not trusting myself.

I've always believed that we are 'here' to learn from the lessons that are put in front of us.... and to love. Sometimes it takes a cosmic baseball bat across the head to shake things up. Life will keep walloping you until you get it and my thick German skull doesn't always make that easy.

But I'm trying and I will keep trying.

Hate

Addiction: "Addiction is characterized by inability to consistently abstain, impairment in behavioural control, craving, diminished recognition of significant problems with one's behaviours and interpersonal relationships, and a dysfunctional emotional response."  

I am not a hater. I don't hate. Not people, not things, usually not even ideas as a rule. I may dislike them but 'hate' isn't my thing.

That being said, I hate addiction. I hate it.

Hate: "Intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger or a sense of injury."

You know what I hate even more than addiction? I hate the horrible things that happen to hurt people. I hate that these horrible things cause beautiful people so much pain that they will do anything to escape that pain. It breaks my fucking heart.

I hate feeling helpless. I hate that there is not a single thing I can do to help people who I care about with that pain. I hate being the misdirected target of their anguish, an ambush that was never intended for me.

I'm not an addict so I don't understand; but just because I don't suffer from addiction, it doesn't mean that I'm not impacted by it's carnage. I am. I have been, more than once. My children have been as well and I hate that too. Hate with a capital H.

My intention was to go into 2016 with a happy and peaceful heart and at some point soon I hope that happens. But right now I'm broken from the loss of a technicolour world that has been reduced to black and white.

Because of addiction.