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Chapter 1

8/13/2020

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​chapter 1
God, perhaps

I have had a special night. It was beautiful. I feel so seen and loved and held by the universe and the collective light among and within us. God, perhaps?

Tonight I had a good life experience...
Picture
one of those special ones that rub into your memory
forever to leave their mark. 

I didn't know it was coming but I should've trusted myself to show up at the right moment in my life, to be fully here
when the hour struck.
​
Picture
1st. let me tell you about my day

You know those times when you get on THE Facebook & there it is...
someone you love, saying things and making declarations. Your heart sinks down below your butt because those statements are so... so....
​harmful, hurtful, off putting. biased, narrow, etc....

of course you know, you are ALIVE during this wild year... so on some degree we all know.

and then the second act
The snake like  thread of comments that follow.  A ping pong match of anxiety fueled by the expanse of time between comment and response and comments and responses.
The inevitable; a friend to your beloved loved one. In fact, someone you have grown to love because of the very nature of their relationship with the one you love.  In other words... another loved one and maybe even more than one. 
There they are in the comment section. Throwing daggers, critical edges sharp with slick tongues and fiery syllables.  Condescending, harsh, insensitive, toxic, etc....

well,
today, there I was breathing and feeling and thinking and worrying and talking and eating and well.... generally just being a human who just woke up on a Thursday in the year 2020. I was greeted to THIS day by another one of those. 
and 
i think because of this exasperating year that we are legitimately all just trying to survive...
I couldn't walk away.
I had fought the good fight of keeping my mouth shut and my thumbs tucked safely away from my keyboard. But 
something crosses the line and suddenly a fire is lit in me and I MUST speak. I simply cannot keep the response held in my body.
and still, 
I think, I pause. I deliberately choose each word carefully. To best, lovingly express my hearts cry. 
Even though I have always believed myself to be non confrontational, I confront. 
My hands do not shake because they are too full, carrying the weight of burdens and sorrows of my fellow humans. I have in my minds eye the bravery that runs in the veins of the oppressed and shattered glass in the hearts and flesh of those under attack.  My silence is no longer a currency I am willing to spend for my own comfort.




Picture
  I'll spare you the details.
Even the most inexperienced imagination can see where this plotline is headed. 


To say that it had a toll on me... well, that would be extremely accurate. 
I left the "facebook conversation"
with this myriad of feelings
frustration,  indignation, exhaustion, worry, sadness, discomfort, shame, anger, 
APOSTATE 
(new word, had to look this one up)
agitation, anxiety, devastation, hopelessness, offended, gutted, disheartened 
and love, big heaping scoops of love.  I can't make sense of how that is possible but 
being human is so weird and complex. 

My body had a surge of adrenaline, that was wearing out and leaving me dazed and slightly numb and more than a little wounded. I needed a good hug. 
It would have been the perfect time for a hug.
but covid is real, and hugs are precious commodities that are being rationed for the safety and well being of our future...what a significant cost it is to grow up, to grow beyond.

birth is painful
life is painful
death is painful
yet,
in all that pain we get the opportunity to love each other. 

I didn't get a hug.
but I walked into the church office. 
yes, re read that.
I walked into the church office, because the building that my studio is in, is the St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Peoria IL.
Ellie enjoying her special treat  from an angel
and me, ready to collapse into a weary pile of mush on the floor. 
J & J, the husband and wife duo who happen to pastor the said church greet my masked face with their masked faces. How are you?
When I blurted out my burdened hearts cry of "ugh"  they both sat down across from me and asked "would you like to talk about it?"

I didn't get a hug, what they gifted me instead was their presence. 
I was seen, accepted, loved, comforted, nurtured, cared for and heard
which is pretty nice too. Like being held in a way. 
I think maybe it was God? perhaps

I don't know actually what I think about God right now, or any more... or.... we can chat about that later. Now that I have stepped into my fullness and decided I can no longer swallow my truth for the comfort of others, especially when people are dying in the hand of righteous indignation of the booted oppressors.

where was I?

yes. I saw God? perhaps? at church today in the masked faces of two humans who have always welcomed me with openness and love. 


_______________________________________________________________________________________________

now for the "good life experience" of today:

My mother in law is here.  Visiting. We are in day 2, technically I am writing at 12:39 a.m. so we are in day 3. 
I ashamed to say that I was worried about her visit. 
I was using an old map, with old narratives and old story lines and  skewed perception to think about the visit. See, I  have had this unsettledness in my heart because... I had some missing information and like any human, I filled in the gaps with a story I thought made sense.
​But I failed to leave space for mystery and magic and surprise. Or rather, I failed to account for the utterly human element of being human. ;)

I stressed myself out and believed that the reason I was stressed out was because I could somehow predict the future. I was sure I knew what twists and turns the story was going to take while my MIL visited. Sure, and completely blind. 
because 
I believed
that
she didn't like me. 
and because "she didn't like me" I had a whole folder full of possible other inklings. 

This is not to say that I had ever, up until this point in our relationship, EVER,,, asked her if she didn't like me. 
I just knew. 
and therefore I didn't need to ask. 
but 
I'm learning 
there is a difference...
sometimes we do "just know" and sometimes we "have no idea"
it's really a flip of a coin 

tonight. my mother in law and I connected . 
we laughed and talked and shared stories.
the line grew blurry
I wasn't the daughter in law sitting in the chair across from the mother in law
 I was human, across from human.
seeing God? perhaps. 

I learned a lot while connecting with my mother in law. I saw her for the first time, as the human that she is. I saw the tender hearted child, the adventurous and brave spirit, the creative, the whole, the adored, the mother, the sister, the daughter, the woman. I watched her eyes light up as we talked of her youth, her dreams, her interests. I stayed present and didn't allow judgement or commentary to enter into my thoughts. I just sat in her presence allowing her to be fully herself and giving her the same gift of myself. I watched pain and sadness, nostalgia and joy pass over her beautiful face. I listened to her voice rise and fall with excitement and apprehension as she shared.
I learned that when she was a girl of 10/11 her dad bought her a horse named Calypso. The horse came with her name and she loved that horse.  The horse was housed for .50 cents a day.  (can you even imagine?) at a nearby stable.She described the location in great detail, drawing a map in my mind of the roads and buildings of her youth. 
We talked about my childhood too. Like how I always loved the number 3 because I was born on the 3rd day of November in 1982.  (I'm almost 40 somehow?) 
So when I was 3 it was my golden birthday.
She had never heard of the golden birthday concept, to be fair... her's was when she was 28 and I'm sure she had more on her mind than a 3 your olds birthday party at Mcdonalds... unless maybe she had been organizing my now husbands 3rd birthday during her 28th year.
no... no I think maybe in her 28th year she was just about to give birth... or she just had... to my Matt. So yeah, she probably didn't ever register her golden birthday. 
But she did remember in great detail her 13th.
They threw a huge surprise party for her at the Ozarks. She was embarrassed and cried. 
Later she told me about the boat they bought and the water ski that she was best at... nobody else could use this one footed? single ski... she told me the name. I didn't write it down even though I did take notes. 
The boat, she said was what they were able to buy when they sold her horse.

At some point, her horse fell pregnant. actually the man who ran the stable used one of his stags to impregnate Calypso. Then the man tried to tell her dad,  *a man I always just knew had so much wisdom and love in him, he was quite, gentle, sweet and stole my heart the first time I met him*  that he "OWED" money. $100 in fact (which is a lot when you only spend .50 cents a day on food and lodging for your horse.)
100 for the foal.
"Dad, refused". He made up his mind, she thinks as she reflects back... "when that man tried to make him pay for a foal we didn't ask for." 
Calypso and her unborn colt were sold to another family. My mother in law had to pass on the beloved pet to another girl. She cried.
Who wouldn't?
I can't help but wonder to myself how that would imprint on a growing girl, how that would feel at such a tender age. 

We talked some more, but mostly I just let her be, listening to her memories and allowing them to wash over me and help me to see her for who she is and maybe 
maybe, even
perhaps
see God in her too. 
​



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    I love using words to connect with my fellow humans. 

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