Monthly Archives: March 2015

Muck and stuff

I never thought I’d make it this far.

From the time my mother left, I learned to survive. To make it through the day and then the night. Waking up the next morning realizing I had not prepared for the day I would be facing. As a kid, it meant I had not done my homework. I had spent the previous afternoon and evening watching TV.  I watched happy family after happy family. I lived vicariously through them. 

There was a scene in the TV series Northern Exposure in which the nonconforming philosophical free spirit of the town learns that he has high blood pressure and to fix it, he just needs to take a tiny pill each day. He laments that he expected he would die in his late 30s as every man in his family before him had. He has to rethink his life and contemplate a future that would include old age. “Had I known I was going to grow old, I wouldn’t have burned all my bridges.”

The thing I’ve learned about most people is, they survive the day. Without specific goals for the future, there is only the day to get through. If you have a goal, the decisions you make today will directly effect it. 

The hardest part of staying on course, is the muck. It’s like I’m in the middle of a kitchen remodel. Things are dissembled. There’s dirt everywhere. The progress is so slow it’s not only difficult to see, I can’t figure out how to measure it. I’m not having any fun. None. I need some fun. 

I’m going to work on that.

Namaste, my friends.

Love, 

Pamela

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Where’s my playful? 

Direction from my former figure drawing professor from last semester is flowing through my head today. 

He said to me many times, “Be playful.” “Have fun.” “Enjoy yourself.” 

I came close to enjoying drawing, but I can’t find my way back to that. Back to the time when creating was fun. It hasn’t been fun. Not with music, with writing, or with art. It feels like a painful exercise. All of it. 

If I look back to when this started, I would say when I started setting goals. I think what has happened is I’m looking to the day when my goals will have come to fruition and I’m putting all kinds of pressure on myself. When you’re only looking at what you have yet to finish, it’s almost impossible to enjoy now. This is a bit of a trap. 

This will be the next thing I explore. I have to have goals set up, it’s a lot like a recipe. It gives me the next step I need to take when I don’t have time to think. However! I need to have fun now too. Otherwise, I’m wishing my life away waiting for my life to start. 

Namaste, my friends.

Love,

Pamela


May love and Peace have their way with you today…

  


Maybe this is for you. 

Sending love wherever it’s needed.

🙂 


Thought for the day

If your plan, your goal, includes success, then you must celebrate the successes of those around you. If you’re carrying jealousy for others, you are not ready for your own success. 

Your only competition is the you from yesterday.

Namaste, my friends,

Love,

Pamela


Surreal anniversary

Had I remained married, I would be celebrating my 26th wedding anniversary today. I was young and reckless in choosing to marry him. We had not known each other long enough. I can’t say it was a mistake, because on Valentine’s Day the following year, my daughter was born. I always say no one has ever, or will ever, give me a better Valentine’s Day gift. 

A while ago, I realized I had been saying I’m not ‘wife material’ based on this experience. I promptly opted out of the whole dating experience because of it. It created a lack of confidence that I was incapable of being a good partner to another. The reality is, we were horribly mismatched. The simplest of conversations were prone to miscommunications. We simply didn’t understand each other. Perhaps, it is one reason that I work so diligently to communicate today.

Now I know I could be a loving partner to someone. It has only taken 26 years to believe it. 

Namaste, my friends.

Love,

Pamela


The demand.

In 2009 I had two jobs and was working a 48 hour week. In one of my offices, the desk was a bit too high, maybe 2 inches. After a time, it made my right shoulder and upper arm wretchedly sore. I had chiropractic treatments, I did stretches, and I had massages. Nothing helped. I was taking a lot of ibuprofen. I was pretty sure one of the jobs was going to have to go. 

Then I had a final massage. The massage therapist was determined to help. This was literally her last massage before going off to grad school to begin a Phd program in physical therapy. She told me she was going deep and it would hurt. She told me to breathe deep. She dug her thumb in my upper arm and slowly drew it from shoulder to elbow. It was torture. This went on for forty minutes. Then she demanded that it was time to move. I agreed. I gave myself permission to let go. Suddenly, there was a release. A rush of movement in my shoulder. Like the flow of blood was finally moving again. It tingled. It felt like lightness. It felt like magic. I knew I was going to be okay.

I felt this again tonight. Not in my arm. In my soul. I’m flowing. I’m flying. I know exactly what to do. 

Namaste, my friends.

Love,

Pamela