Sacred Joys

A friend asked me the other day what my plans were moving forward to be happy and I struggled with that question. I became irritated by it. I didn't express myself then mostly due to not having my thoughts together but I feel like here in my own space today I do and thought to share.

I no longer make goals to gain happiness. I do not wish to accomplish certain things and then feel like happiness can then happen to me. I have learned that continuing to wish for happiness is hurtful for those of us whose lives have been eaten up by unfortunate events and circumstances. My whole life has completely taken over the ability for me to try new things, to take risks and fuck up, to actually act like whatever a 22 year old woman acts like. But I don't mention this to 'cause sympathy or concern I've mentioned this to try to explain why my goals don't include "and then happiness" at the end. I used to do that a lot. I would make a goal and know that once we passed the finished line to that goal then I could finally take happiness for my own. The problem with this is that there was always another goal and always another finish line to cross. Those of us whose timeline of their life includes stories of how we went from surviving one storm to floating right into another know that the dream of one day no longer having to bear the crippling storms is a finish line we aim to one day get the luck of crossing. Unfortunately, this dream finish line keeps us in a state of paralysis towards real joy. We are always courageously rowing ourselves through tremulous storms and feeling let down by the world when that lovely dream finish line is still not in our reaching. There will always be prisons but that does not mean that we cannot be free, that we cannot have our freedom. Likewise there will always be goals to complete, to grow into or out of but this does not mean that we have to wait to make happiness our own. Granted there will be times when joy is something you've forgotten how to want or feel or deserve but we cant continue to see joy as a finish line. Perhaps instead we can believe in the powerful, fleeting moments of sacred joy. Yes, I may always have a trap door leading into sadness but I know that the joy and peace I am able to feel in the tiny moments in between storms or during the storms are sacred. My sacred joy shakes its head in disbelief when I reduce it to a finish line. Some of you may understand and some will not but for those of us where joy seems hard to come by whether due to mental illness or life circumstances or both please know that your joy is sacred. I know that the word "happiness" feels big but know that your sacred joy is your humble healing companion. Sacred joy is those 5 second moments. Those moments that so often pass us by a little too quickly to brag about themselves. We don't have to pass any finish line for this. We just courageously row our tired selves through the all the storms and continue remembering to remember our sacred joys. This I can do. What about you?

Some of my current sacred joys:

When my dog Penny wiggles her butt 

When my dog Percy hops from joy

When Celest says something hilarious

I may not currently know how to want joy or how to stop cringing at the word happiness but that doesn't even matter. I'm just gonna keep rowing my fierce crooked self through shitty times and remember my humble healing companion sacred joy.

Sadness & Puppy Dogs

I read something today that helped me continue to keep trying. The idea was that maybe during the pain & hard stuff it is possibly exactly when we are meant to be present. When we are meant to share. We weren't meant to write about all the hard stuff only after we already passed through it. We were meant to show up during the hard moments. To show up, to rise up even if sometimes its just for ourselves. Our sadness is not shameful. Its truthful, honest and real.

Oh sweet self how could you not remember this.

In the mess of things I've become ashamed of myself even though I know better. Even though I know that my sadness, my anger and ways of coping are not to become excuses for hating myself. I know that people won't always understand. And I know that through it all I have to say no to the shame and to the self loathing over and over again. I know that I must always remember to keep on healing. I've been feeling as if this part of my story is where I disappear and do not come back until I'm shiny and bright with joy again. As if my sad and difficulty are the ugly parts and should be hidden and not talked about until they pass. This, I don"t believe to be true but shame is quite convincing. But the whole idea of the difficult parts being the most important time to show up rattles that poop head shame. Shame cannot stand our truth that's why it feeds us lies.

I keep repeating this as a prayer for myself.

I cannot stop trying for it halts my healing.

I cannot hate myself for it halts my healing.

Getting it right will not, should not become the objective.

Healing should always be the chosen journey.

I am still in the depths. I am still overwhelmed. I am still at moments quiet and very sad. But I am growing and becoming. Pain is here breaking us open and giving us a chance to transform. To grow and to become something more. Pain is our fuel not our anchor.

Glennon Doyle Melton's book Love Warrior came out today. !!!!!. She posted on her instagram a part of her interview from her TV appearance interview this morning and explained how showing up all busted up is where shes most comfortable. How perhaps, "Maybe, this all happened to me so I can go out there and be seen in the during" She could have chosen to hide her separation until after but she didn't. Because its all about the during. Showing up during the during is much more helpful to people than showing up after. When our story has the chance to be helpful by being told, we decide to use our pain for healing. How grand.

I Always Come Back

Lately the little girl I take care of throughout the week has been having a hard time with nap time.  Now I know that most kids do but not this little girl. She almost always does not give a huge fuss and goes through nap routine just fine. Well, not so much as of lately because I have been leaving right after I put her down. She has noticed this of course and so lately has been giving me a hard time for nap. It just so happened that this past week I held her close to me and let her know that I always come back tomorrow. “I always come back, remember?” I said. She repeated that and we went on fuss free with our nap routine. Right before closing her bedroom door she said trustingly, thumb in her mouth and all, you always come back. I closed the door getting tears in my eyes. Yeah, I always come back.

This past week I got a very important voicemail. All week I had been waiting for this call to be returned but also dreading it. The message held our future. Unfortunately, it was what my instincts had kept telling me all along. Bad news. The home that we had been promised 3 months ago was now out of reach. The little light of hope we had been protecting to believe this was going to work out fizzled out. I knew it, my instincts are almost always right but still cheerful hope scooched up next to me and how could I resist it. Upon realization of this I let some friends know the news and was graciously met with I’m with yous. Still having to go to work I got dressed and tried to get myself distanced from the reality. Compartmentalize. I unfortunately for the rest of the week was impatient and under energized. I guess that compartmentalize thing doesn’t quite work well enough for me.

I found myself going back to that day of that sweet little girl remembering how I always come back. Don’t we do that too but with other things? I know I do. I know that when disaster strikes my hope is always lingering, whispering, letting me know that it always comes back. When my faith in humanity gets lost over horrible events in the world my faith is always there reminding me that it always comes back. When love is something that seems too hard to participate in its always there throughout my day reminding me not to fret. When doubt, anger and frustration are all that I am stubbornly holding onto then I remind myself that all the things that hold me up will always come back to me. No matter how many times I push it all away. The hard heart was not meant to stay.

One thing I mentioned to my friends upon telling them the news was the hope that they could hold me up because I could not do that for myself that day. Most days it feels like holding myself up with the usual stuff of hope, love and peace is something only other people have the ability and luck to do. But here I am rising up, holding my soul up. There are people all around us, all around the world choosing to continue to be open to the things that are hope, love and peace. 

Hard hearts were not made to stay but to give us time to grieve. Holding ourselves up to continue moving in the world is an absolute strength. There is tremendous courage in allowing our hearts get hard, in throwing tantrums and stopping our good movement in the world because we have to decide to come back. We have to decide to allow the good things to come back and remind us of how important our movement of hope, love and peace in the world really is.

There is so much courage in all of us who have experienced the darkness and continue to move in the world with peace slung on our backs.

The good things always come back. Some might even dare say that they never ever left us.

Sympathy & Empathy And The Wisdom To Know The Difference

There is a voice in my head that keeps telling me to keep quiet. Stop sharing your stories, it says. No more talk about your pain. Everybody is already so tired of you and all those things. Everybody is so tired of the sad you remind them about. Your dragging your friends down. People are tired of your dreary and your worn out-ness. They are tired of your current story. They are tired of you. 

There is a voice in my head and it tells me all those things. It convinces me that its cruelty is all apart of the good honesty that will help me make better decisions. I believe it sometimes. Sometimes its all I can think about. I begin to step away from things I love like writing and creating. Then I step away from the people I love dearly. Sincerely convinced that my friends are better off without me and my stories. They'll be happier without you, the voice says massaging my ego. Then I imagine them happier and better because they aren't being reminded about how frustrating me and my situation are. Its hard to turn back once I do that. Sometimes I leave all things and all the people because of this and it takes days upon days for me to come back. Sometimes a little light in me pops into the picture then scoops my hurt self up reminding me to return to all things love. To which I rebuttle the thought of what if its all true. What if all those cruel things are true?? The light untangles the despair from my ravaged heart and I remember to walk back to all things love. 

Yesterday, I came upon a thought that enlightened me a bit. Sympathy runs out but empathy does not. Perhaps I am looking at the love my friends have for me more as sympathy than the real true stuff. The people that love me don't stay in my life because they feel sorry for me. They don't reach out and buy me food and take me to acupuncture and listen to me rant and give me hugs and kisses because they feel obligated to or at least I hope not. They do it because I believe they've connected to me and my stories and have grown to appreciate me. They love me with the real true stuff not the fluffy surface-y stuff. I certainly wouldn't want the people I love to feel as if my love for them is not real and deep and true. I'm trying really hard to no longer continue letting myself be convinced that I am the exception to true and good things. Having a mantra will help me do this.

This although does not take away from the fact that I have been in this situation for so long now that so many bits and pieces of who I am are no longer available for use. My everything is tired and worn. Spark is something I now lack. I used to get told all the time that my presence was such a light. I don't get told that much now a days. I understand, I get it. After some time the dreariness of my reality becomes a real burden. That is where that cruel little voice gets its fuel to be ignited, from tiny little spaces such as that one. 

Finding the balance to have the honest reality of the human condition and its messiness to be consciously present and also finding the grace to stay and know that its all alright. That I am loved regardless. I am worthy and I am loved and I am beautiful regardless of the mistakes I've made or make. Regardless of the frustration regarding my person and my situation. Regardless of the differences between me and my friends-my people. Re-positioning my self to lean towards grace not only with myself but also for my friends is so so so important. The importance to that is so vital to the health of all my relationships and my mental health.

So leaning towards grace and learning to spot the difference between sympathy and empathy are big big things but we can do hard things. All of us. I believe in that. 

This post most likely wasn't as helpful for you as it was for me but in the small miracle that it has been. Thank you for saying ME TOO even though I won't actually know you did.

Sympathy runs out but empathy does not.

Thanks for reading.