Lyndon

There is nothing I enjoy more than learning something new. Except maybe experiencing something new. Actually, they could be considered the same thing. I registered for a class that started in October and runs every month. I, of course, attend the second last class because I didn’t know about the others. I caught up by reading the synopsis and do the readings. I felt ready to attend. The class is about connecting with nature.

I feel I am already pretty connected. I love watching wildlife, I understand how to find it. I live in an area that has coyotes living a couple blocks from me. I watch bald eagles circle overhead. I often see moose and deer on my way to work. Geese are everywhere in my neighbourhood and I can identify different songbirds.

Fauna taken care of.

Flora has always been a passion of mine. If there was a situation where I needed to forage, I wouldn’t get scurvy plus, food would be fairly tasty. I enjoy gardening. I love the feel of the dirt between my fingers and the smell of crushed leaves on my hands. Eating what you harvest is particularly satisfying. Give me a chair in the middle of the woods or garden and I am happy.

This class’ intent is to create a more abundant garden by connecting with nature. It leans on the ‘woo woo’ side of spirituality but I also connect with that. I am embracing the fact that I am an empath who is very intuitive. So – now you know.

This class talked about connecting with your garden. Apparently, when you speak to your plants they will perform better and you will receive an abundant garden. I have read studies on the power of music etc. Talking to people does marvellous things, so why not plants? It requested that I photograph my tree every day. Talk to it and touch it. I was to journal my experience. There were zero expectations about what I might experience and zero expectations to complete this. All I was told was “give it a try”. Cool, I am open to trying new things.

I did this for one week. Monday through Sunday. I forgot Friday. I was home from work sick. I made a habit of stopping by my tree every day after work. Decompressing before I entered the house. So technically,  I did it for 6 days. I promised my Edmonton Tourist peeps on Instagram and Facebook that I would report back. I received feedback that confirmed I am not alone in talking to my plants. But honestly – this is the first time I had ever done it. I promised to share my experience.

Day One: I have to admit I felt a little kooky for standing in front of my giant tree in the front yard. Its the only tree I have where I wouldn’t have to trudge through snow to get to. I can stand next to it without being knee deep in the frozen stuff.

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The sun was setting and the light was pretty. It was cold but, so what? I approached it and said ‘Hello Tree.” I thanked it for providing shelter from the wind and sun. I took my glove off and touched a limb I could reach. The bark was smooth but more importantly, I felt something. It was warm tingles flowing through me. The energy I feel when I am happy or on the right track. I thanked it again and was surprised I felt pretty darn good.

Day Two: I had completely forgotten about this project until I drove into my driveway. OH YEAH! I stepped out of my car and walked towards my tree. “Hello, Tree! How was your day?” I didn’t hear anything but I removed my glove and reached for the limb again. The energy moved rapidly into my arm and quickly enveloped me. Something told me to ask its name. Obviously, I didn’t get a name but I did get an image in my mind’s eye of fluttering. Almost like butterfly wings. I didn’t know what that meant or if it was anything at all but I wrote it down. I thanked the tree and went inside.

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Day Three:  Day three was an emotionally hard day. I had some personal stuff I was thinking about and focusing on work hasn’t all that fun. I felt pushed into a situation at work that annoyed me so I needed to deal with that the next day. Basically, coworkers frustrated me a bit. I pulled into my driveway and boom, I got excited because MY TREE! This time I didn’t even need to touch it before I felt the energy radiating from it. I thanked it for sharing the energy and touched its limb. I spoke to it telepathically and asked it its name. This time I heard (not with my ears but that gut feeling) “You name it.” Fine, I shall call you Lyndon, partly because you are a Linden tree and partly because Y is a thing for me. I have a Y in my name, I put one in my daughter’s name, it’s a special thing for me. The tree did not react to Lyndon, but why should it? It doesn’t need a name. After I named Lyndon, I turned to look at the bushes in my yard. I felt like I was neglecting them. So I walked up the garden path and gently touched them and thanked them for their time in my garden.  Honestly – I know this sounds kooky but here I am doing my homework. From my experience posting the first photo on Instagram, I have learned the great gardeners out there all have relationships with their plants so I am not that strange.

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Day Four: This was a bad day. I had a medical procedure done and I felt terrible. I was an emotional disaster and was happy to be home. I stood in front of my tree and cried a little. I didn’t say hello or thank you, I just accepted the energy from Lyndon. It flooded over me and I honestly felt better. I touched the limb and thanked Lyndon for being there for me. I stood there with my hand on the limb for a good ten minutes. I meditate daily and this felt the same way. It just felt good to be connected to my tree in silence.

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Day Five: I didn’t leave the house. I was a mess from the previous day. Hindsight tells me I should have gone to say hello to Lyndon. But I didn’t.

Day Six: Not a work day but I was going out to run some errands with the hubs. I knew I would be home late and I didn’t want to forget about my gratitude session with my tree. SO, I stood before it while the car was being backed out of the garage. I apologized for not visiting the day before. I thanked it for being understanding and always there. I held the limb for a while and the energy flowed through me again. I have to say I am quite surprised that I feel this good after I take a moment in gratitude, I don’t think its about the tree but more about being thankful for the tree. I thought about Lyndon on the way to our destination. I also thought about the importance of connecting more with my garden. If nothing else, its good for my mind. I feel refreshed afterwards.

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Day Seven: I had no plans to go anywhere. So I put shoes on and went outside to greet my tree. “Good Morning Lydon!” Then we held hands. “Thank you for being there for me.” We stood in silence for a while and I thought about how I take this beauty for granted. Actually how I take all my garden for granted. I apologized to everyone and thanked them for their presence in my garden because even covered in snow, they bring energy and interest into my space. I love the way they feel. So Thank you garden.

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I journaled every day for a week and am supposed to do this for a month, until the next class. At the time we were assigned this project, I suspected it was about gratitude. I wasn’t wrong, or at least I don’t think I am wrong. I am just supposed to report back. Do I feel different in a week? Absolutely. I feel connected to Lyndon and am grateful for the energy it shares with me. I look at my garden differently and its only been a week.

That Barenaked Ladies song has been running through my head the past few days, “Its been one week since you looked at me  Cocked your head to the side
and said I’m angry
Five days since you laughed at me saying
Get that together come back and see me
Three days since the living room,
I realized it’s all my fault, but couldn’t tell you
Yesterday you’d forgiven me
But it’ll still be two days till I say I’m sorry”

Don’t leave it, be grateful. I learned a lot about living things being there for you. Its okay to lean on them, ask for energy/love and say sorry when you need to. I don’t think it matters if it Flora, Fauna or Homosapians. Ask for what you need, give when you can.

It’s only been a week. A lot of learning happened.

 

Grow up already

 

I was told by a former friend who broke up with me this year that I must be really immature. Wait…what?

I have friends who I spend time with ages ranging from 18-94. I always looked at that as a strength. I could fit in and have fun with people from all cross sections of life. According to this guy, it was a weakness and I should be spending time with people my own age. I guess that meant sad, drunk, middle-agers were off my list. I still think I would be considered middle age because 48 + 48 = 96. My great Grandmother lived until she was 99. Both my grandmothers are 94 and 89 respectively, chances are if all goes well, I will live at least that long.

I don’t want to restrict my friendships to those who are only 48. Have you met many 48 year olds? Some are dead boring. It is a slim demographic to choose from and gone are the days that I have anything in common with friends from high school other than we went to school together and have common memories. I cannot build a deep connection on age.

I build deep connections on commonalities.

doctor-who-river-series-8There is a side of me that is tremendously geeky. I love superheroes, science fiction and obscure pop culture. I particularly embrace the bad-ass female heroes like Black Widow, Jessica Jones, River Song and Electra. These women are strong, smart and have relationships that enhance their being, not because they need one in their life.

There is a side of me that loves Hockey. I love the smell of a puck, the coolness of the rink and the sound of the thwack when the stick hits the puck. It excites me and it depresses me. I admire fan loyalty, be true to your team! and I enjoy the energy of the crowd. The commonality of cheering for a team is one of camaraderie that is lost in other areas of my life. I love being on a winning or losing side, because we are in it together.

There is a side of me that practices the Tao of Muppets. It isn’t a mainstream religion or Kermit-two1occult practice but it teaches humanity. Every single movie, tv episode, short or ad portrays The Muppets as a group of beings who embrace the difference in others. In fact, that is what makes individuals unique. Muppets are not haters or racists they are peaceful and loving. I appreciate this attitude. I want to surround myself with others who embrace this attitude as well. Not all 48 year olds do, but lots of Millennials do. I admire that quality. I want friends who don’t try to poke holes in people who announce their sexual orientation. Who understand that trauma is just that, trauma and people who have had traumatic experiences don’t need to have someone picking at their scabs. I want to be with people who understand that Women’s Issues are hard to understand if you are a White Privileged Male. Empathy is good, criticism feels crappy. Acceptance is preferred.

25893709There is a side of me that thinks books are an opening into another realm. Quote literature and I am impressed, quote movies and I think you have a good memory but don’t expect me to follow your reference. I don’t work that way. I am a reader. I have read 20 book since January 1, 2016. That means I have not watched many movies or TV shows because I learn far more from reading than I do from watching. I think its great that you spend your free time doing what you like to do, I spend my free time reading because that is what I like to do. I love the way a line from a book will resonate with me and linger for years. I have a notebook filled with impactful quotes from books such as Steve Martin’s Shop Girl, David Leviathan’s Everyday, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and Elizabeth Strout’s My name is Lucy Barton. I will read these over and over because they resonate with me and make me feel as if I am not alone in my thoughts. There is another person out there who is the same. Because feeling like you belong somewhere is important. It helps give your life meaning and purpose.

IMG_0579There is a side to me that enjoys fine wine. Not to drink until I cannot think, but because the taste and craftsmanship is exquisite. Understanding the process of how it became to be. Learning how it enhances the food I eat. Appreciating the beauty that it is. Sharing wine in a meaningful way brings me closer to friends who appreciate it in the same way. The relaxing way a glass of wine can define an evening is delightful.

images-7There is a side of me that loves to visit the Art Gallery. Looking at the works of people who came before me who displayed their raw emotion on the canvas in from of me moves in a way that other genres just don’t. I can feel the emotion that went into so works and I am moved to tears by others. This brings a connection that has me thinking about lives and commonalities. How the past and future collide with sameness. I love meeting people in the galleries and discussing the works of artists. Other points of view are uplifting and poignant.

There is a side of me that understands the need to run. I love the feeling it gives and the Me an my angelside benefits. I love the familiar faces you see race after race. I love the openness of my lungs after running on a cool crisp or even cold day. I love spending my time with people talking about races and events they want to do or have done. I even understand why people need running teams and need to train with others. I do not prefer this, but I sure understand this. I love the independence of running. I have never enjoyed team sports. Get me alone on a path with my pup and let my mind run free. To me this is one of the best feelings and I miss it.

There is a side of me who thinks it is important to either work in a job that makes impactful changes on the world we live in or give of your free time do make a difference. Being kind, helping others and supporting people who need a hand up will change you life in ways you can not imagine. Working with like-minded individuals on a common goal is so rewarding when it sees the light. This feeds my soul.

There is a side of me who thinks Family First needs to be a way of life. My heart breaks for children and animals who have been neglected by adults in their life who cannot do better or choose not to do better. If I could I would round up all children and animals who need to feel the hug of a loving mom and move them to a farm and hug them all the time. So in an effort or do the best I can, I rescued my puppy. I volunteer my time to support children and families. I used to work with children and families who needed support, but PTSD is a real affliction when you work with trauma cases for years. For my well being I removed myself because I could no longer see myself. I need to feel strong before I can do more. So now I work in my hobby and I volunteer where society needs me. This is a better mental health fit for me.

Looking over my list of who I am, I can honestly say these areas are not exclusive to 48 year olds. I have diverse interests and because of this, I have a diverse range of friends. I hardly think this means I am immature, quite the opposite. I am not the square peg that fits into the square hole. You might not understand this yet, but you will eventually.

 

Yuge!

I was scrolling through my feed today and came across two very different posts from women friends of long ago whom I still admire greatly.

One has always been afraid of living huge (YUGE! with a Scottish dialect) and she has found herself taking risks and trying out new things in pursuit of her dreams and goals. I am excited for her. She has so much laid out in front of her that is ripe for the picking. The other has always lived huge, not afraid of risks and trying new things. She has had to pull back and cocoon her family. Nurture them and care for them at the expense of her goals. I love this about her. Her life is intertwined with her family, therefore she is holding them close.

Both women are strong, brilliant feminists.

I have been so inspired by both these women. They have embraced the fear and made positive choices because the need is greater than the fear.

I have been licking my wounds lately. There is something so peaceful about pulling back, reflecting and taking that quiet moment before moving forward.

Fear is a powerful deterrent.

Fear is a huge obstacle.

It is getting in my way of moving forward.

I am in the processes of figuring out some things, like if the current trajectory I am on is the best for me. There are things I really like about it but currently there are things I dislike about it more. So is it worthwhile still pursuing?

That is the thing about goals. I feel the need to see them through, I hate quitting. But if it doesn’t feel right and is stressful, is it worthwhile? Will the feeling of accomplishment be worth it in the end when the people you are working with have a very different point of view? Will we meet the end goal in just a different way than we first thought? Maybe.

I miss living huge.

I have done so many amazing things and my last amazing thing put in a place where I have to pull back on the huge part. I ran out of money to do huge. By no means is money the part that gives a huge meaning to my life, it just really helped with checking off the bucket list items.

I think my problem is I do not have a goal in front of me that I feel like pursuing. That is a big deal. I have not lived with a goal in front of me for 6 years. I feel lost.

There was a time where physical goals were my focus. That has changed to some degree. I have been given the green light to pursue a 5km. Something I am not all that sure I care very much about other than it is important for my health to keep moving. I have lost my mojo towards it. I am sure it has something to do with the fear of the excruciating pressure that builds up in my brain when I do this. So for now, walking is lovely, but it doesn’t feel like an accomplishment.

Education was a huge goal for me. I still think I want to go further in pursuit of Women in Leadership. But that takes cash that I cannot ask my family for.  I can always go back. This one will wait for me. Universe…when you have some spare cash laying around, throw it my way so I can go to Royal Roads please.

Career goals. My career is on track, I quite like what I do and the people I work with. It doesn’t keep me up at night and it is diverse enough to keep me entertained without boredom. What more could someone ask for? Oh right, a raise…. A raise would help with my lack of cash issue. But as quality of life goes, it is pretty darn great.

Family goals. I finally feel like I can worry less about my children and let them figure out their stuff. My son complained to me that I was “too chill” and I let him be too independent when he wanted to be held closer. Well, sorry? I knew independence was best for him AND me in the long run, so that is what I did. We had major bumps along the road but he is standing on his own two feet currently. Sure I will catch him if he needs me too, but right now, it is sweet relief that he is well sorted and on his way. My daughter is not too far behind, she has goals laid out before her and is in hot pursuit of them. I worry about her much less than her brother because she also communicates very well and I know what is going on with her. She is golden.

House goals. My house is in need of some TLC. Paint, flooring, furniture and a roof. I will paint it this summer. Bring it back into its former glory. Then perhaps sell it, or not. I don’t want to live in the burbs. But I am not so sure I want to live in this city either. This is where I feel restless. I feel like I am in limbo and get resistance from other members of my family when I bring up the subject of moving.

Friendship goals. I started a book club because I am searching for intellectual conversation about fictional worlds and how they relate to the world around us. This is a good substitute for the Education I am wanting. I am also on the lookout for a book club of strangers – perhaps at my local bookshop. I want to discuss books, not participate in social events. I don’t want to get too close to more people, but I want to hear what they think. This may be a tall order. People in my experience tend to get emotional and social at these kinds of events. Emotional discourse fatigues me. I have “cleaned house” of the people who have me sitting in anger. I don’t want that for my life. I want peace. I want to stop hurting every time I go do something that is supposed to be fun.  Perhaps I am not cut out for lots of people in my life. I do prefer the company of silence. But I know I am self-destructive too. When something cuts to the quick, I am dump it and fast. Maybe I need more of the same rather than different. Finding people who share the same values as me is harder than I thought. I value Loyalty, Kindness, Respect and Honesty. I give these and expect them in return. I am shocked and disgusted with the political discourse in the United States. Why is being kind and respectful such a hard thing for people?

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So this leaves me no closer with my want of HUGE. I feel like I am treading water trying to find land.

I think perhaps if I fill my life with structure the goals may manifest before me.

  • I will set aside Sunday Mornings for time with my writing. It is painful right now, I have got to the part where there is conflict and it makes me cry as I write it down. I think this is the best I have ever written so the emotional strife I am feeling is worth it.
  • I will set time aside on Saturdays to explore my world with my pup. I am a better human to live with when I ground myself in the parks of Edmonton. I will visit every River Valley Park this summer. Apparently there are 20, that is a good start. Maybe I will reinstate the traditional Family Picnic we used to do every Friday night.
  • One closet at a time. I need to simplify, I am going to purge one closet/cupboard/storage at a time until my world is free of clutter. This always makes me sleep better. I want to be minimalist where my family is not. Today I will tackle the space under the sink.

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Like it or not, I now have 3 goals laid out before me. The meditative tasks of two of them will likely help me figure out how to live large once again. Pulling back and focusing on smaller pursuits may be just what I need after my large adventure of last year. It should help with the big obstacle of fear standing in my way. Thank you my friends for being such lovely inspiration.

 

 

 

 

 

Chchchchanges

I have that David Bowie song in my head ….Chchchchchchanges….

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes
Don’t want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time

 

As much as I hate to admit this, I will always be that girl who is seeking approval from everyone. Whether I get approval or not, I still seek it because I don’t feel like I ever get it.

When I hear people giving me support, I am not all convinced it is genuine. It doesn’t matter who it is from. If its from my mom – she says one thing, I hear another. I assume everyone is comparing me to the better/stronger/smarter/richer person they know. I worked with a man who gave me great advice about 10 years ago, he said “You have to take people at their word, take it at face value.”  Yes but – multiple meanings, undertones, knowing what people have said before in the past all add up and then you hear what they say so it becomes multi-faceted.

It gets tiring. It eats away at me.

I will never be someone else. As much as I want to or desire it because that means I am better/stronger/smarter and lets throw in prettier, that isn’t who I am. I am that same wounded little girl with terrible hair and mean friends, and when I say friends, I mean people who I would play with because I didn’t know anyone else.

I still don’t know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
And every time I thought I’d got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I’ve never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I’m much too fast to take that test

Things have changed a bit this week.

I have struggled with change. I have wrote about it before. I told you about a crossroads that I am facing. I need to make some choices if I am going to move forward.

To do this I need to trust what people tell me is true. And quite frankly I just don’t. Lie to me on a regular basis and I am thinking you want me to be better/stronger/smarter/richer/prettier because you hide something from me. I assume it has to do with me ( because I have a huge ego and its always about me – I am rolling my eyes. I am super insecure and overconfident all at the same time) because as Miss Mimi says, “Lies take away people’s dignity.” I clearly am not important enough in your life to trust me with your truths. Therefore I am not better/stronger/smarter/richer/prettier.  I will never be as successful as my sister – not that it matters to me or her, although I do covet her deck and her red appliances. I will never be the top executive of the company I work for because  – who wants the headache? I will never be that gorgeous fit woman because it take time and effort to look like that and I have children, a job and interests that expand my brain, not my muscles. I know it is possible to have both, but then I give up time and my time is valuable to me. My body has never looked like that, so the work involved to get there is more than I am willing to put in.But it feels like I am expected to be that way.  I have to be enough at some point and if I am not I need to move on.

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There is something about me that has people I don’t know very well tell me things about people I care deeply about. I suspect these gossips do this for a couple of reasons. None of which is in my best interest. So I purged my friends list and blocked all of those who say things, truth or not, just to be hurtful. I don’t need that kind of negative stuff in my life, I can create enough of my own drama thank you very much. I finally got rid of the mean fake friends.

I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They’re quite aware of what they’re going through

The changes I made brought me to a strange peaceful centre. I have turned inward and focus on my immediate surroundings. I have slept through the night since I made this decision. That alone tells me I did the right thing. That Precarious Gait said something that resonates with me – [who are we kidding, she always speaks things that resonates with me. I wish she was my neighbour so I could pop into her kitchen and cry my eyes out and she would pour me a coffee and say – I know EXACTLY what you mean.] She said when you talk about something with out crying that means you have finally healed.

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Can I have an Amen?

I have stopped crying when I tell my story.

Strange fascination, fascinating me
Changes are taking the pace
I’m going through

Does that mean I have closed the door on that chapter of my life?

No, but the door has been renovated. It doesn’t have swing hinges on it anymore for easy access. There is a really nice doorbell you have to press. Then please speak clearly into the intercom so I can understand your intent before I let you in. I am much more careful with myself now. I can’t listen to my heart because its really stupid and my brain does not let me down …ever. I am being smart about my choices.

I need to be smart about work, friends, and choices. What I want and what is attainable is very different currently. I can no longer expect something because I want it to be true. I need to do the best with what I have and then maybe one day, it can be what I want. For now it is enough…just like me.

When it stops being enough, its time to move on.

Pretty soon now you’re gonna get older
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time I said that time may change me
But I can’t trace time

Changes have helped me lick my wounds. All the changes I have made in my life up until this moment have expanded my knowledge and have me looking at things with a new perspective. I regret nothing. I look at my daughter and wish I was more like her when I was her age, but I am more like her now that I am my age. She has taught me lots. Although people say the opposite is true.

At any rate, “Ch-ch-changes
Just gonna have to be a different man”

Or embrace the fact that I am Christmas Lights and not Flowers.

#MoreLoveLetters

123-broken-hearts-14300882-564-605Today was one of those days where a trigger happened and I was suddenly thrusted back to a time and place where my heart was broken and oozing all over the place.

I hate it when it happens.

It usually is a song or a smell that will be a trigger for me.  90% of the time I push it out of my mind, but today was hard. I actually cried in the car all the way to work. It’s weird how something that happened years ago still affects me like it happened this morning.

I posted this on Facebook today :

Why is it that broken hearts never really heal?

And this was the response I received from a running teammate and rapidly becoming great friend:

Crumple a piece of paper… open it…
You can flatten it out but it will never be the same.
Forever changed… like the heart… hugs

BAM – she nailed it. I am sure I will never be the same. Not that the same was better. I have grown, gained wisdom and learned a lot from that experience. Yet the pain still lingers just beneath the surface. One false move and the tears can leak at any moment. Not true, it usually is masked or forgotten…until the trigger.

A dear friend asked me if I was ok. I guess so, in the sense that I don’t think I will ever be okay, just different. IT was an incredibly sad day for me. People looked at me and knew something was wrong with me, but were kind enough to let it pass. My Pup has stuck to me like glue.

Then I went to work this afternoon.

All was fine…sort of…I had work to keep me focused. Then it was my dinner break.

I had to head out of the shop and walk several blocks to my car because the lot was full. So I had to walk a different path than I normally do. That was when I discovered this envelope sitting by itself on the ledge of a window saying READ ME.

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I felt a little like Alice in Wonderland having to make a decision. Do I pick it up? Is it for me? Did someone drop it?

My first thought was ‘it might be a secret’ for Post Secret! COOOOOOL!

I decided to pick it up and open it.

Then I read this:

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Could there be a better message intended for me? I think not. It arrived at the very moment I need it. Thanks A!

Tears stopped, smile grew big, and I felt better.

It is amazing what happens with random kindness. Perfect.

#moreloveletters

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Put your boobs away

Feminismradicalnotion-1Why does it seem like self-esteem for humans is at an all time low? Why is the media focus on sex and sexulizing of women and girls? Why are more women around me subservient to their men? What the hell has happened and why am I the only one who is sadden by it? Okay, I know I am not the only one, but for every 1 friend who is outraged, there are 5 more who are showing their boobs off on Facebook, sexting with men who are not their husbands and generally sell sex to be noticed and wanted.

So what I am talking about?

Women’s role in this world… and by role I do not mean subservient.

I am gobsmacked by some of the things around me.

I am watching the Jian Ghomesi circus like a train wreck gone really bad. I cannot keep my eyes off it. Likely more than most women I know, I really understand why women didn’t come forward or tell the police. What’s the point? Unless there video proof…and then there better be a man to corroborate the story, Women/Victims are just not believed. I wasn’t. I told a few people, and I was accused of exaggerating because he was ‘so nice’.

yeah… about that. He wasn’t who he said he was. He LIED. Shocking, but people who are shifty LIE. Good girls keep their mouth shut and smile, don’t do anything that may upset ‘your Man’.  This was advice from my Grandmother, she was a quintessential 50’s house wife. She also was abused but said nothing – her’s wasn’t physical as far as I could tell, just emotional – which I think is worse. Cuts and bruises heal. Emotional trauma doesn’t.

Then I read an article from the Huff on how to have more sex with your wife…. are you ready for this? Clean up Cat Puke and text her.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

If the cat pukes and you walk over it to let me clean it up…you are a dead man.

If you clean it up and text me hoping for sex, I am going to tell you right now

  1. Cat puke is not sexy
  2. Cleaning is not sexy
  3. It’s your house too, so clean up
  4. Expecting sex for a task/job/money is prostitution

There is nothing sexy about being a prostitute. Whoever wrote that article also suggested that Texting your gal that you are going to buy breakfast so sleep in will get you sex…let me explain something to you

  1. You just woke her up to tell her you are going out. You wake me up and you are a dead man
  2. Surprises are not something you let her know in advanced. IT’s not a surprise then.
  3. It’s breakfast… you can’t cook? You can’t make coffee because its usually her job?
  4. Expecting sex for task/job/money is prostitution

Again, there is nothing sexy about being a prostitute. Well…some people role play and that’s a different blog.

Lately there is a trend happening with the whole ‘sexy whore’ thing. Halloween has come and gone and I saw WAY MORE Not-A-Commodity-feminism-23195990-400-600boobs and belly buttons than I care to admit. My niece let me know that an adult female costume could not be found without sexy connotations that go with it. This was true for even for children’s costumes. There is nothing more disgusting than a 5 year old girl in a mini skirt and belly shirt. First off, DON’T BUY IT. Don’t support these insane notions that sexulizing females and female children is appropriate. Why can’t we all just like each other for our interests and smarts and humour and kindness and ideas. Why is it not common to aspire to be smart, innovative or creative. Why must we be looked at as objects?

You want to have more sex? Tell the women you are with how smart she is. Listen to what she has to say. Respect her opinion. Ask her how she feels, ask about her needs, wants and desires.

Then tell her how you feel, what your needs, wants and desires are because THAT is sexy and no tasks/jobs/money exchange hands.

One day the looks wear off and all you are left with is everything underneath. Let’s hope it is support, kindness, interesting and innovative. Sounds a lot like friendship.

Now that is something you were never told to look for in a mate.

If you did, you win.IMG_7998

Lost and Found

When I was a kid, I could hardly wait to be a Grown Up. In my minds eye, the title was filled with freedom, wisdom and entitlement. I have been waiting for these things to happen since I reached the age of majority.

Still waiting.

It doesn’t look like it is going to happen any time soon either.

I feel ripped off.

I made a decision a few weeks back not to be the glue in certain situations. Yesterday it came back at me head on in the form of harsh words and anger. Because I have chosen not to engage in certain activities, means another person has to pick up the slack. While he voiced his discontent and anger and directed the harshness of his reality at me, I felt ambivalent. My immediate thought was…too bad, I am not going to do it, nor am I going to feel bad about it.

I walked away.

This is a huge step for me in my whole process of needing to be the care-taker or fixer of things. I can honestly say “Not Caring”.

But then why do I have that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach? I think perhaps its because I respect the person who is angry – truth be told, I know he is not angry at me, just the situation and I was the catalyst for the reaction. All I said was “Enjoy your day tomorrow” and shit hit the fan because he now had to work on his day off. Of course it wasn’t fair that I was the recipient of the behaviour but that is human nature.

I understand because I do that. I am not proud of it either.

I do try to be the nice kind people, but sometimes we all lash out at people because we are having an bad day or feel feel like no one really understands where we are coming from or what our situation truly is.

For the most part, people don’t really get it nor do they care because they are wrapped up in their own trials.

This makes me miss the ones who do understand. My sad reality is my empathizers are all miles away from me and thank goodness for Social Media because it keeps me connected to them. Yesterday I spoke with 4 of my – for lack of a better work – kin. They get me, I get them. They understand and I understand them. I miss them like I would miss breathing. I think about being away from them and my eyes tear up.

I think for the most part I miss them more than they miss me – of course I think that way because it still boggles my mind that people care about me. I am always shocked when someone does something kind for me. What a sad state of the world when kindness is a surprise.

While I think I have not found wisdom, freedom or entitlement, I know I have not lost them. If I look carefully enough, I realize I have indeed found those things, I just may be surprised to understand how they feel while experiencing them. I am not filled with the sense of awesome power. I am not filled with a happiness that I thought would accompany those things, but I do have a sense of peace knowing I am steering my own ship for the first time ever.

That alone makes me feel like a grown up. It also makes me wish for my mommy to come home and take care of everything like she did when I was little.

The time has come to let my mom not worry about all the little things I need fixing.

47 years old and I have finally found my way.1926170_10152827204221337_3195006942175040459_o

I see Susie and Bobby and Timmy and Mary…. but never Robyn

I am invisible.

I grew up with a name that no one ever had and people often told me they hated my name…Thanks?

My mom read Angel Unaware by Dale Evens before I was born. She loved the book and named me after the baby Robin.

In the 60’s, there sure weren’t a lot of girls named Robyn. I watched Romper Room every day hopping Miss Susan would look in the mirror and see me. I would sit up close to the TV and say Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease say my name.

It never happened. Not once. Ever.

Thus began my years of hating my name.

My first Husband, whom I fondly refer to as Idiot Stick, told me he hated my name.  Nice….Jerk. But the good thing is I have met plenty of other Jerks since him so he seems normal now.

My point being….Romper Room broke my heart.

Now Coke is doing it to me.

 

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Ouch.

My Pal Tammy from over at Jibber Jabber Happenstance  is in Ireland and posted this on Facebook.

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Orla gets a coke and so does Eweline but ROBYN DOESN”T?????

How is this even fair?

I could never get a key chain, or a mug. Never was there a pencil with my name on it. Now Coke is mocking me.  Ewelina is a regular name? Nice Coke…just nice.

My life sucked enough as a kid,  because of this now I need to take matters into my own hands.

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When I was 4, I became Danger Girl. I know that speaks to my sense of self. I was not Batgirl or Spiderman, I created my OWN Super Hero Name. I was the hero in my own life. I took control and I lead my friends to adventure and mishaps. I still rock that confidence today with some minor exceptions. Girls bring me down.

I hated the girls who got the boys. HATE them. I never played into that game of whatever it is they did that made a boy’s head turn. I was that gal who talked hockey smack, smoked cigars and played double dog dare. It still hurts a bit today. I always used my sense of self to pull up my boots (wellies) don the terry towel and safety pin and have an adventure of a life time. I was Ellie from Up. The fun kid. Lonely, but fun. Perfectly fine in my imagination and preferred it because people were nice and never hurt me.

I never had that inseparable other person who was my other half. The person who gets me. Does everyone get one of those or is it just a myth?

At any rate, SCREW YOU COKE and ROMPER ROOM. I have my imaginary side kick who loves me unconditionally. Who would move mountains for me. Who likes popsicles and will play Double Dog Dare. I don’t need you to call my name.

I am Danger Girl.

Hear me Roar.

And payback is sweet.

Here is Mom’s Coke can:

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The Friendship Dance

I learned that I don’t have friendships like those on sitcoms. I never had a band of friends at Central Perk, or hung out at the bar like the gang from How I met your mother. I wanted that…the college experience, of chums that you flop on their couch and pour your heart out to. That was never going to be my destiny.

I find as I get older there are friendships that mean more to me than I could ever imagine and friends that I could care less about…and that surprises me.

I had lunch today with an acquaintance who I have always had a certain connection with but because of circumstances, a friendship was not possible because of a conflict of interest in our professional lives. Well… Now that we have moved forward in our careers, it was decided that we both really want to be friends. We made that happen today and it was lovely.

I can count on one hand how many close female friends I have. Actually, on a couple of fingers. But ask me how many close male friends I have and they out number my female friends 3:1.

My new gal pal is the same. There are more male friends than female friends in our lives.

Why is that?

Without meaning to offend the entire female population, I am sure it has to do with how my brain is wired.

I also have learned this year that as I get older, the games females often play tire me out…or more importantly…bore me. I have no time to figure out the she said/she said of social-climbing. So I remove myself from that situation…permanently.

I like men.

I don’t have to worry about gossip or double meanings, men (typically – not always) mean what they say and say what they mean – no drama. That to me is restful.

I went out last week with men – just men. 3 of them who mean the world to me. We went to see John Cleese. It was a profound experience that none of my female friends understood, nor did they want to go. Cleese is a genius, a comedic god in my eyes and his presence on stage had me feeling as if I was in the presence of greatness. Then men I was with, understood that without me having to go into greater detail. They just got it.

People who get me, understand the humor and nonsense of the Fish Slapping Dance – click the image to see the dance. Seriously – Michael Palin’s dancing is marvelous!

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I love it when I am with my women friends and they just get it. It doesn’t happen often. I have 3 female friends who ‘just get me’ – in the same fashion as I ‘get’ Michael Palin and John Cleese.

Perhaps it isn’t a male/female thing. Perhaps it is a friendship thing.

As I age, I know what I want and surround myself with those who connect with me on the same level. I am selfish with my time and will only spend it with those who matter to me. The great thing about being older is the sexual tension of a friendship isn’t there. That alone is restful. Being friends with men because of who they are and what they stand for without the pressure of dating….delicious! It’s like grade 6 all over again! I LOVED the grade 6 boys, they were funny AND fun. The men in my life currently are the same, funny AND fun. Perhaps I have finally figured out what is important.

Friendships should be important, meaningful, fun, funny and safe.

I got rid of those her aren’t those things for me.

On Monday, the big #disneytrail reveal will happen. If you follow my social media feed, you may be wondering about it. It will be amazing and scary and challenging and more importantly, it will include some of my friends. Male and Female, people who make me feel safe, who make me laugh, who tease me incessantly and most of all, get me.

Why did it take me until the age of 46 to figure out this friendship game?

Better late than never.