healing

how is a person supposed to heal oneself when her world has been turned on its head? this is a question i've been asking myself for weeks now and it's a question i should already have the answers to. i don't intend to imply that my life is anything different than yours; i face each day and each situation as it comes. some days are good: filled with blessing and laughter and comforting familiarity, while others quite frankly, are not. i don't pretend to have dealt with anything truly horrible. years of philosophical and anthropological study serve to remind me daily how ordinary and commonplace my life and my experiences are. i am a middle-class, white female raised in the suburbs of america. i have a solid family base and close friends that love and support me. i have never been abused or mistreated. i am well-educated with a good job and a strong sense of self-worth. and yet, bad things happen- routine is interrupted, hope is shattered, trust is broken. my question is how does a person heal herself from the daily blows that weaken her fortitude?

i can't seem to remember how i've managed it in the past when regular old life events come into play and shatter the world i've come to know. i know my strategies for survival include deep hibernation, distraction and avoidance through books, tv and movies, over-working, under and/or over-sleeping, all of these things until the days continue to march past without me noticing their passing. pretty soon, days turn to months and a new life seems to be created. but where exactly does the healing take place? does it have to do with how many days pass, or how successful i've been in distraction? is it possible that none of my tactics are effective and healing occurs somewhere else entirely? are my plights truly universal and therefore i'm just melodramatic to say i feel like my world's been shattered, or has my "survival mode" forced me into some sort of vicious cycle, where i can't manage to grow without first having main tenets of my life stripped away?

as i am currently in the middle of one such cycle, i find myself longing very deeply for the life i've lost. some of it has been taken from me, unable or unwilling to return no matter how i fight for it, while some of it i chose to leave behind out of necessity. still, i can't seem to want anything more than to awake in my own home, surrounded by my own things- my lamp, my coffee pot, my garden... to awake in this life next to the boyfriend i love who smiles and calls me darlin', to ride my bike down familiar streets to the job that's become so mundane it's the only thing i can find to complain about.

but i know this feeling will pass- even if i don't know how or when. it's passed before. i've adapted: i've relied on the fact that i still have plenty in life to appreciate, i've continued to go to sleep each night and awake each morning, to make new friends, date new people, move to new cities and new places and re-establish a partially new life. i know i can do all these things because i've done them before. but i'm tired of needing to. i'm tired of feeling broken, or needing to harden my emotions to the harsher conditions in life. and i'm tired of falling in love again, hoping that maybe this time the someone i choose will continue to choose me back regardless of circumstance.

it's just that i don't know how to survive any other way. i feel like i have to cut away anything surrounding the painful area so that i can manage to move on. is that why you fled? was i apart of painful reminders and are you just that much better at moving on more quickly and more completely than i am? i hate that my head wonders these things and hate even more that my heart's too vulnerable to withstand this.

dog whispering

the day went like this...

work was early, way too early. eloise whined and whined as i left making it even harder to leave. tears in the car on the way to the shop. then, minor chaos as i felt i was single-handedly baking off double the amount of bagels, prepping alone that which usually takes two (sometimes three), helping out up front due to a busy first day of school in edina, and staying an hour later than scheduled thinking over and over how much eloise was in need of a walk.

traffic home was offensive, people cutting in and out and slowing down and seemingly had no regard for my little saturn. rent was dropped off late, construction delayed my home return, eloise had wet her crate and my feet were tired.

the two of us played in the garden, keeping up on one of my many forgotten hobbies. she dug up an onion and was thrilled at it's unexpected spice and oblong shape, causing it to roll this unexpected way and that. on our walk she found herself a dead bird. it was completely consumed before i recognized that feathers are not grass clumps. please don't get sick little girl!

more errand running in the car with a sleepy puppy in tow, and then some good ol' quality couch time just us girls. napping in my lap was nice and comforting. is it bad that i like her best when she's sleepy?

unexpected phone calls change my mood. or rather, long-awaited and significantly too short phone calls change my mood. i decide to tell the only face in the room all about it. eloise stretched out on the couch in a half-sleep, half-awake sort of daze, liz positioning herself nose to nose and vocally recounting her day's experiences. this prompts a little bleary-eyedness, which i soon halt since the dog to whom i'm talking requires yet another romp outside. roommate turned canine in 60 seconds or less.

on the agenda for tonight: put on something upbeat and motivating, mental note to create a 'pump me up mix' for just such occasions. dinner for the pup. cook real food for myself for the first time in weeks, making sure to prepare enough for later when this determination fades. spend some quality time re-organizing my living room, which has been a shambles since half its contents were recently removed.

i realize my own pathetic state but thats how life goes sometimes.

can't get started...

i've been wanting to post for awhile now. i've even sat down at the computer and opened up a new post page just to stare at its blankness. my head and my heart are so jumbled up right now that i just can't seem to make out any coherent thought worthy of the blogosphere. certain things seem too personal to write while others too cliche. how do i come up with something telling of the greater human experience, something relatable, from this bland existence in which i currently reside?

for the first time in my life, i am living alone. the house is quiet 100% of the time, save for the occasional traffic sounds or the muffled cries from the newborn living upstairs. i come home from work and putz around the house realizing how valuable it is to have someone who asks how my day was. i rescued a pitt bull puppy this week and so spend much of my time with her. we play ball and learn basic obedience and take walks and nap on the couch. through all of this i can't stop myself from worrying that i won't be a good owner. my little eloise came to me a blank slate, ready to be taught the ways of obedience, ready to be given a full and fruitful life. what if i mess it up? what if she doesn't get enough exercise, or if she spends too much time alone, or if my training techniques aren't productive? what kind of dog will she be in 5 years? what kind of life will i lead in 5 years? recently i've begun to wonder if she would be better off with someone else... not because of a lack of love and attention on my part, but simply because experience has shown me that if given a choice, people tend to choose someone else.

i have been overwhelmed with life these past few weeks. overwhelmed with giant floods of emotion every 10 minutes, overwhelmed with life's expectations of me- wondering if i can handle it on my own day to day. i wonder often if my finances will hold up, if i'll ever stop chasing my oversights, mistakes, overdrafts and start making headway. i wonder if i'll ever have a time in my life that i can buy something- anything- without planning 3 months in advance, or else without worrying how it fits in my budget.

i wonder when i'll ever have the time and energy again to care about my appearance or social life or basic hygiene. i went a full week last week without a shower simply because i could not find the time. any and all free time was spent with eloise, playing or napping or cleaning up the occasional accident. i haven't been able to justify leaving her alone when i don't have to- even now she is curled up in my lap for one of her regular puppy naps, but the second i move she will wake up lonely. she just wants to be near someone with the warmth of life and the pulse of a heartbeat and quite frankly, i can't blame her. what i would give for

and i wonder if my tear ducts will ever run dry. it's a wild phenomenon that they don't. after months of heartache, it's amazing that there is still enough moisture left to cause sudden downpours of emotion. i wish i could move forward a year to when i no longer feel this. i long for the ability to shut off all pain. it seems though that shutting off pain also requires that one shuts off joy, or rather shuts of the ability to feel anything, and i can't seem to do that. just when i try, eloise will try and stuff her entire hind leg in her mouth at once... damn dog is spoiling my melancholy :)

so that's that. head swirling, heart racing, natural instincts wishing i could just lay in bed 'til all this is done but constant brain activity keeping me from any actual sleep.

writing exercise 2

there is a memory from my childhood that even today continues to haunt me. i was young, maybe 7 or 9 years old, and had begrudgingly agreed to go for a bike ride with my dad. it's not that i didn't enjoy bike rides and it's not that i didn't love spending time with my dorky dad, but i was uncontrollably self-aware... and therefore embarrassed just about all the time. in this instance, i was overly aware of the large plastic helmet sitting loosely upon my head causing my hair to matt to my skull and my coolness-factor to plummet. i was also aware that hanging out with one's dad in public was just about the worst thing a young girl could imagine, especially if he forced said girl to wear her helmet while he insisted on riding the embarrassing old 10-speed he'd received too many years prior to this event.

so there we were, biking around town for all the world to see. father in the lead on that rickety and squeaky schwinn free spirit, daughter in tow with head down and eyes averted, trying not to be recognized by anyone. we were on our way home, biking up a rather large hill just near our house when a red convertible full of girls roared its engine and approached us from behind. to me, these girls were the epitome of cool. they were free from parental restraints, driving (and driving a convertible at that), blond long hair blowing in the wind. in the years of saved by the bell and beverly hills 90210, this was the life i longed for.

panting and sweating, my dad and i continued to make our way up the hill while the car full of girls slowed to a crawl so they were right even with us. i heard them laugh. i heard them squeal and scream, enjoying our humiliation. and then i heard one girl yell at my dad out of delight. she commented on how he had nice legs for an old guy.

my face immediately went beat red. the convertible sped off in a roar of triumph. i glanced up at my dad in shock over what had just happened. still panting and sweating and, he made no acknowledgment of hearing what the girls had said. still, he road the rest of the way home in silence and went quietly into the house when we finally arrived.

looking back on this memory, i don't know for a fact that he heard the comment as i heard it. i also don't know who those girls were or what they were doing that day. i didn't know how to react to such a humiliating experience, and to this day don't know if my dad even remembers our bike ride, or how i felt about it.

i do know how i felt as i watched my then, slightly overweight dad huffing and puffing up a hill on his rattling bicycle get cat called in front of his own daughter. i felt hurt for him, ashamed that i at one point thought those girls in the convertible were cool and to be envied, embarrassed that i had witnessed such an event. i felt suddenly very young and yet very old at the same time, young because i was powerless to do anything but watch and old because i had seen it happen.

i can't say why this memory in particular haunts me so. i think about it now, as and adult, when i ride my own bike down the street. i think about it when i see pre-teen girls out in public with their own dorky dads. i think about it whenever i go back to my childhood home, driving past the place where i witnessed my dads humiliation. maybe it's because it was one of the first times i saw him as more than just my parent, the person in authority over me, the guy who embarrassed me in front of my friends, who never seemed to care what others thought of him. maybe i remember this scene so often because it was the first time i saw my dad as others saw him, a middle-aged man out for a leisurely bike ride with his daughter. i caught a glimpse of his humanity beyond how it relates to me.

a quarter come and gone

they say the majority of western society experiences something akin to a mid-life crisis, usually ranging between the ages of 30- 60 years of age and typically brought on by a feeling of uselessness or even boredom. we joke about this phenomenon in our culture, imagining old men buying sports cars and old women getting boob jobs; we think it's funny that someone has lived their life year after year after year only now to realize they don't know what they want or how to get it.

but what about us youngsters? what about those of us who spent 75% of their life being told what to think and where to go and what to do and even when to pee...? we are let out into the world with endless possibilities for life, expecting doors to be opened for us as they have been before, anticipating greatness and excitement and adventure. i've been out of college now for 3 years and am still floundering under the weight of such expectation. not only do i have the constant pressure of deciding what i want to do day by day, but i have the overwhelming thoughts of future life looming overhead... what do i want to do with this life i've been given? where in the entire world do i want to live? who do i want to spend my time with? does that person or people want to spend their time with me? am i too young to settle down and plant some roots or should i continue to float from place to place avoiding any lasting commitments? how do i pursue the life i want while factoring in money and loans and future finances? it's a wonder we don't see more grey-haired 25 year olds walking around!

i've recently been given a fresh start; i can do anything with my life- live anywhere, surround myself with whomever and whatever i please... and the idea of choosing continues to daunt me.

i have a mellow and rather old soul- those who know me can attest to this- so naturally when i think of what i like to do and how i picture life i imagine it calm and peaceful. gardens, sewing, baking, lazy afternoons at the park, long walks, chickens, hula hooping, spending time with friends and family, spending time writing, front porches, and good books. and there's nothing wrong with these things- they make me happy and fill my time adequately.

but those who know me may also notice that i surround myself with adventuresome people; people who encourage me to live life to it's fullest and take some risks. these people help keep me from boring myself, they challenge me to live the kind of life i dream about whether by adding more travel, unique outings, varied socializing, or even new hobbies into my humdrum daily life. without these people, i would fail to reach my full potential; i would become stagnant and dull.

so as day passes day, while i continue to stress and plan and worry over my future and what to do, i now wonder if there is a way to introduce some more vibrancy into my life. i could easily find a place to settle down for the next year or two or ten. i could plant a garden, buy some chickens, fill my time with hobbies and activities i love, all while working toward some future goal of a life and career and whatever... but is it enough? what about the small yearning for adventure that lays hidden deep within? do i continue to rely on others to fulfill that need in spurts? do i risk increased loneliness by striking out on my own? do i settle for what's safe and familiar while attempting regular trips to exotic places or vice versa? i used to dream of traveling the country in my el camino (which is yet to become a reality), with all my possessions packed in back and a companion at my side (probably a canine)... but is that still ideal?

i've been bogged down with so many realities of life, financial, relational, practical- that i can't tell if i'm being realistic or pessimistic. undoubtably, i would be lonely traveling alone. although one can argue that i'd be lonely living by myself too. financially speaking, working regular hours with a regular paycheck is necessary, but work shouldn't control my whole young life. not yet anyway. so where does that leave me?

for today, all i can do is address my frustration and admit my utter confusion. undoubtably, time will continue to flit by, bringing my decisions nearer and nearer. it's possible, my inability to choose will make the decision for me, but we shall see when we reach september. for today, all i can do is wonder.

pardon my self-admitted lameness....

(pardon my lameness, but i feel i have very little to offer at the moment and this will have to do).

there's a line in "under the tuscan sun" where diane lane says the biggest surprise after a divorce is that it doesn't actually kill you; the world continues on just as the day before and the day before that, and yet, you feel shell-shocked... hallow inside, like your jaw has just dropped to the floor and you want to scream and cry and curl up in bed for the rest of your life. how is one supposed to carry on?

i haven't just gone through a terrible divorce, no. my experience doesn't even come close to the depth of that kind of pain. but in my young life of 25, breaking up with a long-term, live-in boyfriend is the closest i have, and because of it i've glimpsed what diane lane was referencing.

i awoke the other morning (the morning after... ugh) and was shocked to hear the rain throbbing against my roof. what's more is that traffic continued to stream outside in the street, birds chirped from their sheltered nests, the mail was delivered, and i was expected to dress and make my way to work. i lay there in my now lonely bed thinking to myself, "how is it possible for the world to just continue on like this?' ... especially when my world had just come crashing down around me.

but the world has continued to turn. it's only been 2 days and already life seems to have carried on much like before. i have been to work; i have managed to forget or deny my own reality enough to casually interact with co-workers and customers; i have refocused my plans for myself and my future- reminding myself again and again the things that I want, the things i've been too timid to pursue in the past; and i've socialized outside of work, spending time with co-workers and friends that i normally would have ditched out on for the comforts of home.

but only 2 days in and i'm already tired.

i can remember a time when independence was like a badge of honor for me. i was proud of my singleness, of my ability to live on my own and depend on only myself. i was overwhelmed with excitement at the vastness that was my future- desiring to take off and live in a different city every week, experiencing life at its fullest. even the thought of a long-term boyfriend seemed binding, constricting, boring.

but having carl turned out to be like wearing a pair of comfortable sweat-pants. i was able to breathe for the first time in a long time. i was safe and cozy knowing i didn't have to try so hard all the time, even just to impress myself. it was okay to want to come home after work because i knew there was something great waiting for me with dinner and a tv show. and that makes it even harder now to imagine squeezing back into those metaphorical skinny jeans that promise independence and self-sufficiency. i've learned that i not only appreciate but that i am built for the comfort found in partnership. i yearn for the familiar and desire some sort of stability. does that make me boring? old? conservative?

it's only been 2 days and already i'm tired of loneliness: of checking to make sure all the doors and windows are locked before bed, of not having that someone to check in with at all hours of the day or night, of returning to a quiet home with no lights on and no one waiting up for me. i'm tired of sleeping in this damn bed alone and desperately long for that snoring lump of a man beside me.

tv and movies seem the best distraction from my frenzied mind during this time... and so i turn to diane lane and her spontaneous trip to tuscany that gave her an exciting rebirth. she managed to find the strength not only to forge her way onward again, but was able to find happiness in her situation and to rest in the companionship of friends and family.

lord, that i may have such strength yet again.