Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Tonight I high-fived Fall by whipping up a little Pumpkin Chili. A perfect dinner for this time of the year. Zesty and amazing, just the right amount of sweet and spice.
And since I was feeling creative and chef-like already, I ventured out further and created a Salmon, Arugula and Cherry Tomato Linguine.
But the accomplishment I am MOST proud of today is the fact that I FINALLY put together my little writing nook, where I can create and share these words with you.
And now as I sit here and type, I am positive of one single thing...
Pictures lie. Don't get me wrong- sometimes they absolutely tell the truth, but never ever forget they also have the ability to be nothing more than our own mental creations of what we think is happening. Of course I didn't do any of those things today! But yesterday's post about the amazing, cooktastic, craftastic, organic fabulous Mom got me thinking... And looking for the pictures (on Pinterest!) made me realize something. It's important, you may want to write this one down...
Some of our gifts can't be photographed
Pictures just don't do it justice. They doesn't mean they don't exist. Some people are amazing at taking care of people. They show up during hard times with cookies and love and lasagna and leave you left remembering you are never alone. Some people are good listeners, they pay attention, without thinking about what they are going to say next. They don't look at their phone or try to remember if they paid their utilities bill this month while you are sharing your heart.
Some people are amazing empathetics. They feel so much that it kind of hurts sometimes. If they haven't walked in your shoes, they try them on. They don't say the wrong, stupid, insensitive thing ever. Because they have been able to imagine, for a second, what it's like. They are the person at the birthday party- that sees you frazzled. They feel the sad in your eyes. They touch your arm and without being too suffocating or weird- gently ask, Everything okay? With enough love in their eyes to make you actually suddenly be okay for reals.
So, even if they aren't Pinterest-y or picture worthy, we all have them. Our brilliant gifts. Every single one of us. I've never met anyone without a gift. Sometimes it takes a while to find them, but they usually rise to the surface. They can't be hidden forever. Some people can't find their own gifts, because they are too busy doubting and noticing which gifts aren't theirs. But however we are right now is enough. Our gifts are exactly enough just the way they are.
I'm a good Mom. That's one of my gifts. Not because I clean or cook or can decorate worth a crap, but because I love my boys. Exactly the same amount but in a million different ways.
I loved picking Grey up from his typical preschool experience. Today was the first time I walked in and he was comfortably sitting in the circle with the other kids. My face hurts from smiling so big.
It's often really, really hard for him to be there, but today- I couldn't even tell.
My little home skillet NEVER wears hats. His Special Ed shadow was so excited to show me this one!!!!
Teacher Amber's gift is speeching. I'm constantly amazed by the people who teach our babies. Here Amber is using a tactile prompt (a grape flavored wooden stick) to facilitate an open mouth position. Parker has a harder time making ahhh and ohhhh sounds versus closed mouth positions, like duh or bah. Today he did AMAZING at attempting to repeat the write words and sounds. It doesn't usually sound like it's supposed to sound like- but it is consistent and at least a part of it sounds right. (Dee- drink. Baaawww- ball).
I haven't run in months. Days and days and days that suddenly turned into months. This hasn't happened since I started running about 17 years ago. I will always remember 39 as the year I broke. I hope 40 is the year I get fixed, but that's too far in the future to think about.
And it's hard. It's still hard not running. That's where I always leaked my crazy. Running is what reminded me I was strong and capable. Running helped me deal with that unhealthy feeling that my body will never be just right. But a few months ago, after the headaches and shoulder pain, my knee started to give out. Some days were hard and some were unbearable. The days I could walk free of pain made me grateful. The days that walking made me wince made me angry. And the past few months I've had MRI's and blood work-- looking for Lupus or Rheumatoid Arthritis or blood disorders. And I am happy and relieved and grateful that they found none. They think I just have Osteoarthritis. I have really crappy joints and combined with years of running I just started to unravel. Gray hair, arthritis, and two new zits when I woke up today. Teenager or Grandma? Identity crisis.
And at first not running was unbearable. I wanted to claw my skin off. I couldn't organize my thoughts or rationalize my fears. My heart would pound and I had no where to get it out. All of it.
I remember talking to my trusted therapist in LA, Bonnie. Despite the fact that she had a slew of initials behind her name- she still went by just Bonnie. I liked that about her. She asked me what I did for me- to fill me up. I mentioned running or reading or taking a long bath or buying something new.
Uh huh... She said, her eyes intent, her pencil still on the yellow legal pad she held in her lap. I knew when I gave the right answer the pencil would explode with kinetic energy.
Uhhh, I get a massage? A mani pedi? I told her, all things I regularly did.
And how does that make you feel when you do those things? She asked.
Hmmm. Good? Relaxed?
Yes, good. That's good. And how long does it last?
Ahhh... Ah ha. Not. Very, I realized.
And together Bonnie and I dove into waters deeper, looking for things that filled holes bigger and darker that you pick color ever could. And I started to explore my insides with no map. And sometimes that's scary- because maybe there was a part of me afraid that there was just maybe nothing there? And some of those lessons I still hold in my pocket today.
Running is good, but it's temporary. Sometimes it helps me, but sometimes it masks what I need to be feeling. And ever so slowly, I am feeling my feelings. And sometimes it's really hard. Sometimes I am desperate to run them out instead of feeling them out. But I know there are lessons for me to learn in this time of in between. And the faster I learn them, the quicker I can move on.
Do you know what fills me? I like helping people to be okay. I need it in my blood. Trying new things fills me up. Messily, imperfectly, courageously trying new things. I want to be a story teller. True stories. I need to tell the truth, it's not a want. I want to talk about real and honest and sometimes imperfect things and feelings and share the dusty little nooks in the unexplored corners of my mind. I need to feel and share and laugh and cry. Often. A good cry. A sad cry. An honest cry.
It's easy to forget what fills those deeper waters and bigger dreams. And it's crazy to me now...painfully outrageously wondrously crazy...that writing this blog helps me be and do all those things. Thanks.
What do you do to fill up you? I'd love for you to tell me. And if you don't want to share it- that's okay, I understand. But make sure you at least take time to figure out the answer.
Catch you at the end of tomorrow.
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at 10:13 PM