What a difference a decade makes

I was an innocent and beautiful dreamer at 16 in the political 60s.

Fell madly in love in my 20s in the hedonistic 70s.

Turned 30 and reminisced on love lost with the love ballads of the 80s.

Was too hung up on my past and fearful of a solo future to make babies in my 40s while I still had a chance in the 90s.

Found out that my mother was right about everything in my 50s when it is all too late in the new millennia.

Finally came to terms that it all was as it should have been in my 60s, ten years into the new millennia. Back to the 10s. It's like starting over

Fell in love in my 70s the same way I did in my 20s. Life truly begins in the new roaring 20s.

Silence threatens

ESC has me making hospital trips again.  This time, we are in search of a final diagnosis to explain some symptoms he's been having. It could be so simple, that home remedies can cure, or so damming that not even modern medicine can. A thousand possibilities, thoughts and anxieties lie between the poles of knowing and not knowing.

While I have been telling myself and others out loud that the doctors are just being overly and unnecessarily cautious, inside I am crumpling with fear.  Behind his bravado, he is too.  The worst is just to damning for us to sleep peacefully.

He is having a really hard time, and I cannot him to unload it. His manhood requires that he valiantly defends himself against possible signs of weakness. My womanhood wants a deep long talk about how all this really makes us feel.

I am fearful that my role is so small and inconsequential in all this. I do not weave the power of God.  But, I do have the power of faith.

Faith- Belief in something hoped for, evidence of which not seen. Where as others tend to just relax and give into"fate", I will continue to believe.  "Faith" is my "fate."

As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord [ alive and well].

Getting up

We fall down. We get up.

I have to say that I am grateful that even after falling repeatedly, I can find the awareness to get up. Life is hard.  There is no bells and whistles about that. That may be the biggest discovery in my 31 years. Growing up, I would always hear my mother say "Life is not a bed of roses." Having grown up, I now know exactly what she meant.

Somehow, with all the flash and euphoria of romanticized novels and this photoshopped world, we have lost sight of what is real.  Bad things happen every moment to good people all over.  Sometimes of their own doing and other times simply because of fate. Life happens.  Good things also happen to bad people and sometimes good things happen to us and go unnoticed because we are more focused on those things happening in other people's lives.

My struggle with my weight is not a bad thing. It is just what it is-  a struggle. I think my weight is a metaphor for all the elements in my life that need to be brought into balance.  However, while the struggle is not a bad thing, failing to act on it in consistent awareness is indeed a bad thing, and of my very own doing. I accept that.  I also accept that falling down is part of the process in the struggle towards life goals. The journey is as important as the destination.

I have realized that when my weight is climbing upwards, there are other things in my life that are in need of attention.  I have struggled with consistency in my effort to get my weight down and sustain weight loss but I have become more aware of myself in the process.

So today, I feel better. I feel better not because I lost 2lbs last week but because I have gotten up. I have chosen to rise above my problems and press on towards my higher calling. I have taken back the power and I am now seated firmly at the controls. I am in charge of my weight. I am in charge of my body. I am in charge of my destiny.

I matter. I count.

I will learn to listen to my inner voice when it objects to me accepting an invitation to do something my heart does not want to be engaged in. I will learn that self-preservation is not selfish. I will learn that a broken Sheer Almshouse has nothing to offer a broken world. I can't fix the world but I can choose to do the work of fixing myself. I am accountable but for me.  I am accountable for each day I live and each breath I am given. If I recharge my own self first, I will then have the strength to breathe life into other things within my abmit. But ultimately, after God, I come first.  A broken partner is a needy partner that drains any relationship. A whole partner adds value. This is also true in our relationship with life and the universe.  

For years I have mastered the art of putting other things first. Career, family, ambition. Now it is time to really look in before I look out.  So here I am, present, standing and fully accounted for.