praying for home

I caught myself praying last night to feel at home where I am. It's been like a shelter but surrounded by all my favorite things and people—just in piles every where.

Couldn't that be a metaphor for life too?

Feeling so out of place and alone that you never feel at home. That's something affecting more and more people. We don't have to feel like that though. It's mostly self-sabotage and misperception if you ask me. I understand because I catch myself in that mode—kind of like catching myself praying about needing to feel at home. If we pay attention to ourselves, introspect, we can catch a whole lot of stuff we do and do something to make life better.

I don't want to have piles of disconnected, unorganized junk in my life anymore. I want my actions to have purpose and focus, so we can be unified and more at ease when there's a moment to breathe after the running around is done.

I want to know where my keys will hang when I'm home. I want a place for my toaster and broom and the piles of laundry. I want to be able to find what I'm looking for without tears or frustration. I want to know home and stay there for a long while.

flew the coop

No one can convey the absolute rip in your heart that happens when your first child moves out. No one. This is one of those life experiences people can talk about and attempt to describe (like I'm doing right now), but until you are there, you cannot know.

The whole experience has me reflecting on how I exited my childhood home. I was AWOL most of the time from seventeen onward. I did my own thing and hardly noticed the damage I left in my wake. After sending off a child myself now, I can hardly fathom how hard it all must have been on my mother for me to just be—gone. No goodbyes. No getting to do sweet things to send me off. No talking about checking accounts and credit cards and budgeting. I just jumped into the deep end and didn't care how much I floundered as I pushed through blindly. I learned how to take care of myself. I'm actually really good with the meager amounts of money that cross my path. Well, not so much lately. I've been in a tailspin of wanting to eat out all the time practically and trying to get my home all set up and organized. Holy garbage, home stuff costs a lot of money. But I digress.

My mom. I think about her every single day right now as I contemplate how difficult it has been to just be a good mom and send my son off set up a little and feeling confident and capable. My mom had to simply step aside and pray I didn't get killed, arrested, or starve because I never asked for help in those years of teen adulthood. My bet is that she prayed all day, every day. I already do that for my son, and he's an exceptional man/child. I don't even know what to call my children who are grown! haha.

We had a little party a couple nights ago to celebrate our last weekend all together before life changes again for us. We had delicious pizza and barbecue wings with Virgil's root beer and butterscotch soda and ice cream to make floats out of the stuff. It was so good. Like the best meal ever. Such a fantastic memory for me, standing in our kitchen all together having a toast to a good future. I hope it never fades. We talked and laughed and watched a movie, which all of us fell asleep before it ended except my son!

My boy slept away from home on his own last night, and it was so strange for me. It broke my heart a little more to think about how quickly the time went for us. The divorce and its entails stole much of those tender years if we are to be honest about it all. I did my best to help and shelter and lift, but I was in the trenches myself, and we are all just barely digging out this past year or so. What warriors, we are.

I sure love him. This guy is so kind-hearted and the source of much laughter and softened hearts. He knows how to get me to laugh at almost any garbage going down. It's like magic. And I don't feel like I'll ever be ready for this even though it is truly time, and I'm proud of him for doing so well for himself in taking care of his needs and wanting to be responsible for himself. It's a good thing—I guess.

just breathe

I have to keep telling myself this; however, it's not really working since I got the wind knocked out of me in the move. Who knew you could take the rug out from underneath your own self? I talk about avoiding self-deprecation and not taking our lives for granted and appreciating each day. but for some reason, I am just having a really tough time of it.

Catching my breath. Learning how to breathe under water. Blazing a trail in the dark. That's what I'm all about right now. And when I'm in the midst of it and too busy to think—I actually feel invigorated and hopeful for the future. When I have a second to catch said breath though, that's an entirely different story.

I don't know if it's necessarily negativity, but it surely is not helpful where my mind goes when I have a minute to think. I have worries that bubble up to the surface that I normally don't ever think about. I fret about things I can't change, which is not anything I typically waste my time on (because, let's face it, worrying about things you can't change is a total waste of time). I've also taken to letting myself get resigned to being alone, and that's one of the most disappointing aspects of where I am right now. This lack of air to the brain and heart is taking a heavy, heavy toll.

After writing all of this out, I recognize that I've been talking in circles. I have no solution or resolution or anything to wrap up this package of messy thoughts. And I hate that. I'm a solution finder. Maybe not today though.

I should get back to learning how to just breathe…

lost

Grief
Joy
Change
Good and bad
Running
Resting
(Barely resting)
Needing so much
Getting rid of so much
Taking on too much
Losing so much
Hoping for so much
Pushing the world away
To open the door for more
Or less
Who knows
What I need
Not me
So who
When will the dust settle
When will home find me
What do I need to lose
To find some peace

shower curtain joy

Changing things up is a hard thing to do sometimes even when we know for a fact it's the best choice. I don't know if National Poetry Month helped me through the past thirty days of crazy decisions and planning and adjusting—or if it added to the insanity—but I do know I never regret pushing through and writing and writing and writing. 

However, I am glad to write something that doesn't have to have a form or rhyme or organization (well, not much). That's why I decided to share a photo of my shower curtain. Random, yes. But it makes me happy. This shower curtain represents rejuvenating change. Pressing the restart button on your life takes a lot of work, guys. I can hardly catch my breath I'm going at it with such fervor. Crazy me. 

I am sure I could write a poem about that shower curtain too because I'm just that obsessed with purple, and I have eclectic poetic inspiration. I will spare us all though. Thirty poems in thirty days has been a feat this time around, and I'm not sure if I'm running on empty in that department or what!

I'll probably continue writing about the concept of change. It seems to be constantly nipping at my heels. It's terrifying and invigorating all at once!