Moment to Moment

It's almost a year since I created this new space. It's a good thing I've given myself permission to post irregularly, erratically, even.

I have so many special experiences that I have not written about. Lots of firsts. Lots of things I had never really done "on my own" before.  Lots of "look at me", "I did that" moments. My vision, a year ago, was that this would be where I tell those sorts of stories. 

I enjoy looking back at my first blog...the one that was "BEFORE". I just looked back to remind myself of the type of things I talked about. My memory was that it included small moments. In my mind, it's the small moments that make up a life. It's in the small moments that, if you are lucky, and you pay attention, you can recognize happiness, contentedness, joy. 

It's a beautiful thing when you can recognize happiness in the actual moment. 

I emphasize the happy moments because they can be so easily missed. I don't know if that is true for everyone. I do know that times of grief or depression can be overwhelming. Grief has been a backdrop in my life for a while now. I'm learning to live through grief. 

I mentioned depression too. I might as well say I have suffered from severe depression. Depression that feels like a dark abyss with no end. I rarely talk about this, because I'm "in remission", and I've been in remission for a very long time. I'm mentioning it now in case it helps anyone out there reading this.  Please know that depression CAN be managed. While in the depths of depression our minds (and hearts) can play tricks on us. We can believe that this is the best that we will feel for the rest of our lives. You have to have faith to get through that. --I don't mean (necessarily) a spiritual faith -- although that can absolutely help. What I mean is a faith that this is not the rest of your life. That one day you'll be able to feel good things again. 

Since I'm sharing about depression, I will also say that, for me, depression comes with a large dose of guilt. Guilt that you are feeling "down" when you have been given so many things in this life. Guilt that you know you are loved and yet, it doesn't feel like enough to sustain you. Guilt that you are a burden to the people you love so much. Guilt because you can look at your life and recognize that it is beautiful...but you feel unworthy. 

If you are feeling any of those things, ask for help. If the first person you ask to help you doesn't see your pain and give you permission to feel it, then ask for help from someone else. Ask until you are heard. Ask until you believe that you can be helped. 

I remember it was little moments that helped me know that I was coming out of depression. I had felt so bad for so long I didn't think I would ever feel joy again. It started small. One day I was walking to the car and heard a bird sing, and for that brief moment, I did not feel sad. The depression was nowhere near lifted at that point. But that small moment gave me hope. Gradually, small moments of joy weaved themselves into longer moments. Moments bled into other joyful moments. It happened so slowly that I was not able to pinpoint the exact moment depression lifted.  

I do not take my mental state for granted. It's only been in the last several years that I could let go of the fear that the darkness of depression would return. Depression has bled through at times. But I am diligent in recognizing my symptoms. I can acknowledge it before it gets out of control and I can use healthy strategies to get through.  

I Write Therefore....

Seen on a Rural Walk With a Friend

I created this new space on the web thinking I would sort of have a "re-start" for writing. Yet, I see that it has been woefully neglected. I keep thinking about writing...we all know how that is. But, the actual writing has caused me a little angst. 

As I wonder "why" that is, I have simply not written, and I am missing something that I really do enjoy.

I decided to stop paying for the web addresses to host my blog. This means that the URLs are different, and I've basically lost what little audience I had. Which begs the question, is having an audience a requirement for writing? Is having an audience that you actually know about required? 

Ultimately, I have to say that writing has intrinsic value in and of itself. An audience is nice. I would LOVE to have one...but it's not the reason for writing. --I have to think about that more.

The riddle of "If a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it, did it make a sound?" may apply here. 

I once told a friend that the answer is that yes, a sound was made. --I understand the science that the sound-wave has to reach someone to hear it to be a valid sound. But, I'm skeptical of the definition. My answer is that there is always "someone" there to hear it. The woods are filled with hearing someones, be they rabbits or deer or ladybugs. I preached "aren't we humans egotistical"... to infer that the sound wave must reach a human ear to be defined as sound. 

I digress. 

This was not at all what I thought I would write about. But that is the beauty of extemporaneous expression. 

Lately, I've been examining the importance of human connection in my life. It's not a new exploration. I'm so lucky because I have deep connections that make the painful times a little easier and make happy times richer. What I've been examining is the "how" of these connections. It is possible that the examination is a pursuit that distracts from the beauty of the "It Just Is" declaration. It is possible that the mere attempt to dissect such a thing is missing the point. 

For today, I will end with the thought that I am lucky for ALL that "IS" in my life right now.

I'll be back.

It's My Birthday .... And I feel like singing

Hello, again dear friends on the internet. I'm writing because that is what I do. I may not post or "publish" often...but I write none the less. This is my favorite place to write. I have a few blank books that I've used as journals...but this is better.  Why? Well, having an actual space adds the "boundaries" of space and time. That may not make sense. Let me try again. Writing in a journal is always something I intend to do. But when I sit down, pen and book in hand...I don't seem to get at the crux of my moment. The heart of it all.

Coming here, to the Blog, is not always ideal either.  --The whole get the computer open and up and running...At night when I'm home I'll think, "It's too late to turn the computer on, isn't it?". You know, I remember "older" people saying things like, "It's too late to put a pot of coffee on, isn't it". --And just like that, I'm old.

But not really.  Look at me! I'm not old. I don't accept that truth. Although, my knees like to remind me that I'm not 21 anymore.

My life is so rich. I just have to reflect on that a bit. Sometimes my grief for Jordan overshadows my mood. But, when I relax and "sit with it", I find that my life is very full and rich. (Aside: Jordan is doing well. He is happy! He still knows me. He smiles all the time. He LOVES ice cream and gets it every day! He has a true sense of community. When he's in the parlor and he sees a nurse walk by he happily waves... something one would do when sitting on a front porch in a small town.)

Today is the second (most likely annual) birthday trip. Last year was Costa Rica. It was big...but my sadness was big too. Going to such a beautiful place and seeing the lush jungle landscape and hearing the birds and feeling the wind...all perfect things to remind me that THIS, this right here, is life.

Today I am sitting on the front porch of a historic house in Wilmington. I'm so lucky it's not crazy hot yet. Just breezy. Airbnb came through for me again. I'm staying at a real B&B, the Taylor House. My room is precious. This morning our wonderful host prepared a delicious hot breakfast. It was an egg, cheese, and broccoli omelet, so light and delicious. And there were link sausages. So savory. Eating in the dining room of this home feels very festive. Such a good birthday morning.

Happily, another couple was staying last night, so I had company at breakfast. They were so easy to talk to and were smart and creative and amazing. The couple is gone now...it was a one night stop for them. So today it's me. Which is actually what I want it to be. I'm sitting on the front porch. There is a huge, old tree in front of me. The street is lined with old homes like the one I'm staying in.

The porch is the best. We used to sit on Grandma's front porch.  Every Sunday and any other day we wanted. Sit...rock in the rocking chair...drink ice tea. Perfection.

This porch looks the same. Well, maybe a little higher-end facade. The neat thing, though, is the home is street level. The house sits on a cobblestone road...but with brick.  The town has done a good job of protecting its history.

The Taylor House B&B

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to see my daughter. Happy Day to One and All!

The photo is from the B&B's website.