Being a teacher of middle school students, a divorced mother of mentally ill children for more than a decade, and having a spirit of wanderlust that makes me want to get into a car and drive away into the sunset on the quest to find some happiness. While I loathe those pensive, "whoa is me" types who clearly haven't much to be definitively unhappy about, I fear that lately I have been down that trek. I have friends who are worried about me and I dearly appreciate the concern. Too much life has taken me by storm lately and I am getting old (middle-aged, as my father likes to call me) and I'm not bouncing back as fervently as I used to. My old philosophy of stuffing things down under the proverbial beach ball and just sitting on top is no longer a viable solution (as though it ever was). I slipped off and everything that I had been packing away emerged, now waiting to be dealt with instead of avoided.
I've spent most of my life waiting to be happy; childishly hoping that someday, that I would earn enough points and that the confetti would fall from the sky and I would then be happy. I would pep talk myself into thinking, "This is the year that it is going to happen." I often re-read journals that begin with , "This year....." Then I would see people who truly had the spirit of happiness that flowed from deep within.
Once when I was really sick with undiagnosed hydrocephalus, two girls came over and cleaned my house. It was horrifically embarrassing and just opening the door to the mess left me mortified. They spent hours cleaning while I sat on the couch feeling guilty- and at the end, they thanked me for letting them come and clean my house- that it was a joy. I spent the rest of the day pondering upon how cleaning could be joyful and rewarding. While I still do not find peace or joy when I clean, I do like the result. It took me a while to realize that the joy was in serving others, and not necessarily the act of cleaning-which is clearly not my spiritual gift.
Growing up in the family that I did, I never understood the value in serving others. I learned that you did things for some people so that when you needed something later, you could repay them- tit for tat. I never envisioned encountering people who were happy and giving just as a part of their nature.
Recently, with my mother's passing, I have seen true servants watch over my father without his realizing it. I had the opportunity to thank them for being such great neighbors to him. In his own oblivion, he has people who make sure that he is ok on a daily basis, which makes me be ok with him being so far away from me. My father is only 62, but he has a number of health problems, including an anyerism on his aorta and diabetes. I am trying to not think about the horrific things that could lead to his demise, but try to take cue from the happiness and patience that he seems to have acquired since my mother's passing. But getting that phone call in the middle of the night to tell you that a loved one is dead is something that I will never get over.
Before my son had his psychotic break back in January, I finally had a glimmer of happiness. Before, I had always been waiting on the other shoe to drop, so I had some discernment that usually revolved past experience that the bottom would drop out. One day, I recalled feeling that my life was finally slowing down and that every day did not seem as though I were in crisis mode. Those who have always live in a tornado alley of crisis sometimes do not know how to function outside of the tumultuous and constant upheaval. Life was feeling comfortable and my cynicism and skepticism were beginning to pull back every so slightly and slowly. I was in uncharted territory, and began to enjoy coming home to putting up my feet and watching a movie with my kids. And even though the bottom did drop out, I am still here and we are still moving forward. It is the unpacking of all of the things that have never been fully addressed that keeps the sadness with me at this time. Coming and going, I know that in time, this will hopefully pass. I wish I had money for therapy and all of those things that make the process move more transitionally and smoothly, but for now, I will just have to continue to write as my catharsis and take as much love and advice from those who care about me as a substitute.
Even though the past six months have been some of the hardest in my life, with the most significant episodes being my son's diagnosis with schizo-effective disorder and my mother dying unexpectedly, I am still focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel. I have been in worse places without supportive people who loved and cared for my well-being. Many of the good friends that I have now did not even know me in those times where I thought that I would have never made it through. I intentionally kept people from my life and from access to my love and heart because it had been abused and broken. Alone, I have endured and made decisions and the fact that I do have others who show concern and want me to have happiness and contentment is worth more to me than words can say. The truth is, however, that God is the driving force behind my life. The trials and tribulations that I endure are the result of my decisions that have put me in a position where I can learn something that I am supposed to know.
I am certain that my difficulties in life have given me the most profound knowledge and understanding. I see people who live lives that revolve things, status, looks, money, cars, and what the world thinks of them. My mother was one of these people. She looked for gratification from others and what others thought of her. She was the life of the party and took care of others because it made her look pious. I have tried to no longer look for fulfillment in such things, as they are untruths told by the world to those who do not know of a God who can bear all.
I have never had my nails done or my hair dyed in a salon. I try to live as much as possible from a view of practicality and scholarship, investing in the knowledge that no person could ever take from me. I have lost every extrinsic object that I have owned at one time or another and pull myself back up from the abyss and move on. Things are just things and I am still learning to part with objects that do not have meaning. Relationships and humility are the true treasures where I choose to invest my time and effort these days. Trust is a hard thing when it has been broken by every person who has supposed to trustworthy with life's most intimate details. I have been the ridicule of many and have built up a callus that will take years to whittle away, but I am not giving up hope that my life is worth something important and my purpose is not a small one. This, perhaps is one of the hardest things for me to let go, the walls that I have built to keep others at bay. Because while it keeps others from penetrating my wall as a protection mechanism, it also keeps the love that can be shared with others out. Learning to let people into my life is terrifying and gratifying, yet necessary for me to move forward.
I feel too deeply and powerfully for my purpose to be one without meaning. However, I no longer care what people think of me. I would be lying if I didn't say that it doesn't sting a bit when people judge me by what I look like or make jokes regarding my appearance, but I move on and let it flow over my shoulders, looking for the truth in my existence. I try to not get caught up in the pettiness of drama and scorn, as it does not serve a purpose in moving on (which is one reason that I avoid my ex-husband..lol). You cannot change people. You cannot save people. You cannot be Christ for other people. You can only live your life and hope that by the end of it, you served as an example and your influence is what has left the most profound mark and evidence of life. Right now, writing, humor and photography are those things for me.
Yesterday, I was greatly troubled by my mother's passing and dealing with her baggage. I now realize that those were her bags to carry, not mine. I cannot put her insecurities and sadness onto my shoulders. I do not have to maintain relationships with people who do not love and respect me, even if they are related to me. And I do not have to accept a life that is less than what God's purpose if for me. A very wise woman reminded me today that I may not have been able to choose my family and where I came from, but I do get to choose where I go from here.
