A long time gone.

I didn't come back. It's not that I don't have anything to write, I do.
Not sure if any of it fits here. I miss my daughter. I wonder how she is every minuet...I see progress in my life, she doesn't. I see a change, for the better...

But my life still doesn't look or sound right. It doesn't feel normal.

...This hasn't happened to me in a long time... When I was a child, dinnertime was a time for reflection on the days events, a time to fess-up to mistakes made, a time for groundings, punishment, discussion. I felt our family was normal...Until, I spent some time with my friends. I got to see a happiness my family didn't know, an ease with life that seemed like a fairy tale. I saw, time and time again, how out of step my life was with the people around me. I promised myself when I'm grown, my life is going to have meaning, ease, rhythm, flow, fun...I promised myself that my life would be normal.

Tonight, as I ate dinner alone, I cried.

Sometimes as a child, when my heartfelt yearnings, for all that we didn't have as a family failed yet again to materialize I would cry...While taking a shower, while laying in bed, while walking to the school bus, while sitting in class, and while eating.

That happened tonight.

I am out of step with life. I am out of step with my friends, my peer group.

For a long time, I've been able to hide. I don't attend reunions. I have a close handful of friends... I still make friends easy, but I've stayed away from anyone I knew in high school...If I don't measure up, it's much easier to breath knowing none of them can see my failure...my inability to keep time, stay in step- with time.

All that changed for me recently.

I've allowed someone in. Someone from then, came into the me I've become. I'm grateful for her presence. I can't help but notice she is grateful for mine as well.
I don't have the freedom to move at her pace. She gracefully slows down, once in a while, to rest in the space I occupy...
We are both reminded in that quiet, how capricious human existence is.

I went on facebook, and allowed many more "of them" to find me.
I look into their words and pictures hoping to see something that reveals a messy, unkempt, out of step life.
Something that looks like my life, my fears, my failures. I'm face to face with the fairy tales again.

I'm confronted with a simple normal- one that I can't have, can't make, can't fake.

...So the crying in my dinner, I don't really have words to write, that can illuminate the dark moon side of my heart, for the sweet normal that's never a part of my life.


Tomorrow morning I will make toast and green tea.
With perhaps a slice of cheese, or an egg.

I will pray for normal. Pray for time, ask for rhythm, beg to be useful.


Hope that my friends are a little out of step, like me.

... I really dislike soggy toast.


-Renee

...As my fingers find the cracks in the rock- lifting myself up.

I know I haven't posted anything in a long time.
So sorry to leave everyone hanging. My life has taken on a new feel.
The bottom dropped out -finally. You all knew it would, so did I.

All I can say about the bottom is "climbing up isn't for the weak willed, or faint of heart"...Stillness, and peace with all that is... Planning is what it's going to take. Since this is a new place for me, in more ways then one, I have decided to thoroughly enjoy the process. Give me just a few more days to gather my thoughts, take some deep breaths, and I will begin.

Not again. There is no begin again.

In case there are any who are wondering?
I am a Licensed Massage Therapist.
It was long road getting from there to here...

Peace.

My wish for everyone is deep peace. Here at the bottom I can hear every sound. Thankfully, I can even hear God's patient whisper. saying 'Peace now, Renee'.

Make peace, have peace, bring peace, give peace. Live- peace.
And, as I climb up, I am making gentle promises to do just that.

Peace, everyone.
Renee

Deal with the serious, the tussle, and the loving...let it be real. All of it.

Stop, all the mad and crazy holding on...
Just stop, and breath in some life for a second.

This constant struggle has me forgetting my needs, my womanhood, and

all that's been set aside-until things could be right in my world.

A sudden revelation 'that may never ever happen', what now?
This on-going feud with my daughter, a silence that will not lay quietly- the loudest silence I have ever known, has brought me to a craving for breaking free, for wild release.

I don't give a shit how my 'living' will be viewed by family and friends.
I need to be selfish for a while.
I've spent too many years in between, being good, being careful, being less then I am capable of, for what? My youth is almost behind me. I see the wrinkles forming on my hands and around my eyes.
Before my 30's disappear from view, I'll invest more time on my purpose, my needs, my daring, my journey.

I demand a month, a year, two years, of tussle and swing. By God, I dare any one to stand in the way of my career, my social climbing, my chasing the dream of being a published writer. My building a resort for abuse victims to come and learn what I'm learning now.

I want to give my creativity and passions- room.

If that means I leave the silence of now for a different kind, then that is whats supposed to be.

Yes, I said leave. It may be a part of this process. I can't rule anything out.


Life sucks when you give it away being responsible for others.
My authentic self is screaming 'rescue your passion woman, now, before it's too late'.
My life has lost the explosive joy, the wonder, and the allowing my complex desires to be identified and satisfied.
Almost all of my youth lost to following the rules.
I've done good, made good, been good, and now
I am just so run through from all the holding on.


It's not just my disappointment and disillusionment that fuels this blue flame, no, it is the constant threat of falling down- being seen as incapable. Come on, come on, I scream to this maddening bitch I call Mother Goddess. Come on already. Show me the lowest and the darkest so I can deal with the serious, in the dark where it lives.

I need the touch of life, the tussle with a stranger, or to swing with those I adore. You can take that any way you want to. Infer what you will, my loving is beautiful and it deserves to be unchained.

I am ready for a uprising that alters how my feet walk the path I've tread every day.
For years I wanted others to see me responsible, strong,
on purpose, and in command of my growth.

I still want the command of my growth, but without the needless acquiescence.

What is the picture of a good mother? One who denies her own spiritual path, her own sexual nature, her desires for change and purpose?
A mother who denies her own ambition,
because it just looks bad to others?
That's what I did.
I did it, to keep my daughter safe and to let her know consistency.
I wanted her to have a responsible role model.
That is why she seethes with anger at me now.
I set too much aside to be the kind of mother I believed she needed.
But, in doing so I denied her the kind of mother I was meant to be.
Oh, and her anger at me is boundless ... Well that damage is done, nothing can fix the years of the in between, but I know what to do to make things right now. The honesty of who I am, the blazing my own trail is all on me now.

I will be a success as defined by me. I will mother and rear as I see fit,
with my open heart and my best intentions- regardless of how ungraceful they appear .
My daughter will know that pushing for a place in this world is honorable.
-The holding on to the false that she witnessed me do, is not.

I will have some wild times, some existential trips, some actual wandering away from home.
I will work in the field of healing. I will give all I can to it, to my writing, and to my daughter.
I will have love in my life. My private life will be as private as I can make it, but it will for certain be- authentic. Those who get a glimpse can accept me or move on.

And, this ugly, soul crushing pact that I made long ago with conformity, capitulation, and the giving away of self is -forever broken.

I want my life back on my terms. I'll be a mother on my terms.
I will practice and write and love who I choose to love, on my terms.

That's it. No more fear, no more.
My life on my terms, letting it be real, all of it, the serious, the tussle, the loving...

Exhale.

-Renee

Blue funk, social injustice, and loving my child.

My God, I wish I could shake the feeling of dread. Seriously.
I know that the only 'things' that are ever lost are the 'things' that needed to go.
I know this to be truth.
But, what if it involves people? How is it that love and respect are lost.
I understand a 'thing' being lost but not an emotion. My relationship with my teen daughter is in some kind of death spiral. I can't find a space for her and I to be in. My child has turned into someone that I can't trust, can't understand, and simply can't please.
I miss her tremendously. I miss my child. The one who loved me...

I am in a blue funk. I am disgusted with American bureaucracy, our leaders, their agendas and how the continued gutting of the American middle class has altered the course of my life.
My daughters life.
I am embarrassed that I didn't get a stronger foothold on this life before trying to raise a child. Yet, I would never change how or why I became a mother.

The strong in our society, the high earners, don't fear recriminations from their children
in the same way as the rest of us do. Their children's educations are paid for.
Their health care is world class. Their vacations are plentiful- not much to complain
about when that's the world you get to wake up in.

I wanted to offer that world to my daughter. I hoped to show her that life is meant to be enjoyed- not a drudgery. I grew up around pinched pennies, dreams shelved, and hopes dashed. Always, it was due to a lack of money.
I swore I could break the cycle. I still believe I can. I know I can.
But, all she sees is loss, all she sees is me, losing 'things'.
Out current economy is straining anything good that's coming into my life before it can be fully realized. I just need for the bottom of this financial pit to show itself so the 'debris picking' can fully begin.

Now, her dad isn't included in this witnessing...
He never reaches, so he never falls from grace.
No effort means nothing to lose. Her anger would never extend to him. She demands nothing of him, but won't allow me an opportunity to show her that hard work and authenticity are risks that rarely pay off in the short term.
It takes time.
She demands nothing from him and everything from me.
All I can give her right now is my faith that 'things' will right themselves.

I am a risk taker. I continue trying, and pushing, and falling on my ass.
And, every time I fall I can feel my daughters respect leave.
I can feel her love for me leave.

I remember the little girl who flew on a plane with me when she was 7.
The one who used to read with me-every night.
I remember the young lady who would delight in a day out- a movie,
dinner just her, and I.

How we both have grown and changed.
How cruel life's lessons are.
How pain-filled our world has become.

I wake up everyday believing that I can make a better world for the both of us.
I believe that in the end she will see, how much I tried to whisk all the hardship away.
I know that somewhere in her critical, judgmental, grieved, pissed off at the world heart-
she loves me.

Somehow, someway, I need her to see that 'things' will come and go.

Respect, well, there's never a guarantee on that one- ever.
She either will or won't.
I can't worry over her choice to respect me or not.

Love, to me means- no matter what.

It doesn't require understanding of politics, injustice, or home finances.
Love doesn't require a place to lay ones head, or a car, or any 'things'

Love just needs a little faith, a little trust, and some hope.

I love my caustic, accusing, selfish, beautiful, amazing, intelligent,
judgmental, selectively harsh child, with all my heart.

No matter what.
-Renee

Can you sit with the debris, and learn to love the pieces?

Hard times are a fact of life.
Life, with all of it's beauty,
often presents many challenges.

These challenges seem to test our faith, our emotions, our spiritual path, our finances, our sense of fairness, our mental health, our physical health, our relationships,
and our perceived foundations.
How do you cope?

How do you keep your feet walking the path, when the "winds of change" bend you to your breaking point? How do keep your focus, your trust, and your dignity?

How can you keep love in your heart for all the good that surrounds you daily?
How do you keep centered and "in the present moment"?
When is giving up-noble?

And, even if you stay focused-recognizing the goodness in life,
what happens when you fail, anyway?
When it all falls away, what keeps you sane...ready to try once more?

When it all falls away,
and all your coping skills fail,
and your spiritual practice can't hold you,
what then?

Can you sit with the debris and learn to love the pieces?

I want to know.

Because, here's what's real for me. I really tried not to let the anger in.
I so wanted to rise above the fray after experiencing, yet another, divine insult.

I will answer one of my own questions...Maybe that is a good place for me to begin healing.

When it all falls away, and all your coping skills fail, and your spiritual practice can't hold you, what then?
I hit this wall the first time when I was 28.
I had a nervous breakdown and tried to commit suicide.
I just hit the wall of -nothing working. Everything was broken.
I was too deep into a pit of despair.

I didn't think God could reach me where I was.

I was wrong, but it took 5 years of clinical psychology, behavioral therapy, and medication to bring me back to the land of the living.

Coincidentally, I am now 38, and am hitting another wall. I feel different this time. I feel alive, and awake, and pissed off.

Yes, I have a level of despair, and I feel I've been bent to the breaking point once again, maybe even worse now, because there is more for me to lose. I am not sure how I keep functioning.

I have wild hope that seem inappropriate.
(passing my National boards, and allowing myself to be loved, really loved.)

I have little faith in the world, but I have faith in me.

I see global, epic, unfairness and find myself barring my teeth, at my Goddess.

I am holding her at arms length, because I want to slap the crap out of her.

I see myself as a woman who has beaten incredible odds, only to be stopped short at this new finish line. And, I can't hold a Goddess tenderly, that would let me be beaten, when I have done the work to clean up my mess.


I did the work.

I did it well.

I needed her blessing.

I got another obstacle.

Well, that is just bullshit.

I find myself asking- why bother? why continue trying to make a difference when nothing I've done is enough to get my good intentions on her list- to be seen as one trying. I think my outrage at Goddess is a part of my healing. I also believe it is the reason why I will survive this latest blow. But, I am tired of survival. To me, there has to be more.


I don't give up- except for the one time I gave up completely.

I won't do that this time. There is too much at stake.

I worry however, even after I somehow make this "all work out", that I might lose some compassion for myself and consequently for others, because I am sick of being strong.


Sick of my best chances, my strongest endeavors, not meeting up with a universal
just response.

I continue to stand. That is the answer to the damn question.
I stand.
But, so what?
What does it mean to withstand, anything?


I am tired of always standing. I stand for many something's
I stand for truth, and for principle, and just because I can.
I stand for love, for honor, and, for giving a shit.

But right now, I'm going to sit.
Because, standing for all of it hasn't meant a damn thing.
Right now, I need to sit with the debris and learn to love the pieces.

Frankly, the pieces are all that's left.

-Renee

St. Elmo's little something...

many moons ago...

I've always wanted to begin a post that way.
This topic can handle the joshing.
I mean, seriously, I'm not a child anymore.
Still, some experiences remind me of my youth.
Not the the parts that hurt, no, no. I have left most of that behind.
Can't carry it forever.
There just isn't enough luggage, anyway.

I am wrestling with raw ambition.
On Tuesday, I passed my National exam for Massage Therapy, and finished something that I began.

I finished.
It feels like the day I wrapped up the writing of my book, only a little different.
This satisfaction is all sweet.
The finishing of my book...a different happy, a different satisfaction.
A different completion.

On Tuesday, I just knew... a rush of excitement came over me, almost like orgasm, and I swear I couldn't stop the big, Cheshire cat grin from taking possession of my face. I cried happy tears. And, this sexy smile just won't leave.
I'm enjoying it.

I connected, I persisted, I believed, I matured,
I forced the issue. I lit the pilot light on my St. Elmo ambition.
The relief is still spreading through my limbs.

Two nights before taking the test, I took a drive with my daughter up the famous scenic A1A. I chose Linton Blvd. in Boca Raton, as our starting point. We continued through the Island of Palm Beach, ending our ride over the bridge- where the rest of us live, in downtown West Palm Beach.

A song that I haven't heard in years began to play on the radio. I made the hand gesture to my daughter that signifies please don't change the station. The song St. Elmo's Fire played good and true over the sound system. My God, I was a young woman of 15 when this movie was a ridiculous success, despite
being panned by the critics.
It is a cult classic for my generation X.
I listen through to the end
of the song, and found myself caught
inside the swirling emotions of my
vaulting adolescent ambition.

I was going to be the one in my family
to do something great, to make good,
to be a somebody.
I listened to this song everyday- for years.
It was an anthem of escape.
I took it's message of exploding hope-
wrapped around hard work, as my definition of self.

I was a climber, an opportunist,
and very, very talented.
I was also a train wreck waiting to happen.

It doesn't matter why it took me so long to come into my own.
The story is long and tinged with shame, unfairness...life.

Wikipedia defines St. Elmo's fire as:
an electrical weather phenomenon in which luminous plasma is created by a coronal discharge originating from a grounded object in an atmospheric electric field (such as those generated by thunderstorms or thunderstorms created by a volcanic explosion).

St. Elmo's fire is named after St. Erasmus of Formiae (also called St. Elmo), the patron saint of sailors. The phenomenon sometimes appeared on ships at sea during thunderstorms, and was regarded by sailors with superstitious awe, accounting for the name. Alternatively, Peter Gonzalez is said to be the St. Elmo after whom St. Elmo's fire has its name.

After listening, my lovely teenage daughter looked at me and said-dripping with sarcasm "I am just overcome with inspiration"
I roared in laughter. How could I not? She proceeded to find a song "from this century"- as she calls it. I looked over at her. I could see her wonder over me. I knew she could feel me wondering over her. We blissfully ignored the questions that lingered in the space between us. Questions that will be asked and answered, another time.

I pulled into my driveway believing I could pass
the test. Two days later, I did.
Finally coming to a tempered peace with the girl I used to be. The one who knew without a doubt she would make it, make a difference, be a somebody, make good...escape.

I can let it all go now.
What matters now is moving forward,
beginning again, with the pilot light on.
It's never to late. What a amazing revelation.
Kinda like the phenomenon of St. Elmo's fire.
Inspiration, indeed.

-Renee

Needing the basics

I'm not sure what sent me into hiding these last two weeks. Maybe it was "Eight Bells" death...Her loss affected me deeply. But, it could have started, I believe is started, when a friend wrote to me, and in a tirade that left me breathless, accused me of not being a good person.
That's really what it boiled down to, and I was just stunned.
Most of the people who love and respect me, recognize my goodness, and look past my harsher aspects. She apparently could not, and I won't pretend I'm not hurt.


I was trying to move past "all of that pain" when a cyclone hit one of the worlds poorest nations Myanmar (Burma). A nation without a recognized identity, except for the one Senior Gen. Than Shwe, the countries ruthless leader, has created for it- while his ruling Junta Party, brutally abuses the people into a numbed acceptance.

No sooner had I regained some emotional balance- tornadoes began ripping middle America to shreds. An America, that is being bled anemic by the highest profiting oil companies in American history.
Companies, that have close ties to our current President's personal financial security.

Although we are not innocent over here, our economy is coming to a grinding halt. And, even though the evening new spins the propaganda wheel, and tells us that isn't so, I would like a real number of employees who couldn't afford the gas to get to work this week. Or,the true number of Americans who couldn't purchase food, because they needed gas to get to work.
And, our current administration doesn't care, at all.
They tell you this is a mild recession. They tell you to quit your bitch- in....

Well, not to put to fine a point on the worlds mood, two volcanoes are exploding. Kilauea in Hawaii, and the Chaiten, volcano in Chile.

A volcano last erupted around 7,420 B.C., long considered extinct.

Two exploding volcanoes is just a quirk of fate, I thought- uncomfortably.

But, then it happened, a devastating magnitude 8.0 earthquake in China's southeastern Sichuan province. For a second, I felt my heart stop at the news. I felt it just skip one, two beats...
I gave a strong cough and it came back strong, but the ache in my chest just overwhelmed me.

So much sadness, so much pain. The whole world has been beaten into submission and the weight of it all pushed me down. The pain curled me into a heap on my bed, sobbing.

That is what the last two weeks have been like.
Me, filing for bankruptcy and divorce simultaneously, desperately trying to keep my apt. Even more desperate to keep my car.
I honestly know broken.

I know how the wind bends the tree to its uprooting.

I know it like I know breathing. It is the most painful lesson.
I know loss, and the horrible cosmic joke of a forced -do over.
I wrote this tonight to remind everyone, please, love the people in your life.
Love them to life, not to death.
Say goodbye and I love you, every morning, with kisses and hugs.
Say goodnight and I love you, every night, before retiring to bed.
Do it with tenderness.

Kiss your children, mates, lovers, friends, partners.
Offer hugs, and milk, and bread, and shelter.
Offer the sharing of rides to work.
Care, GOD DAMN-IT.
Because that tornado, that volcano, that cyclone/hurricane, that earthquake, that heartless government, our heartless government, is creating the need for all of us, to hold on to each other, and care.

Care about your fellow human beings.
Decide that their life is worth your caring and concern.

That's all I wanted you to know, tonight.

-Renee