Acknowledgment and Being Seen

I’ve been working hard at being friendlier and more outgoing to people. These days I often take the initiative to be the one to speak first. I chat at the cashiers and baggers at stores and other customers in lines. I say lots of thank you and please. I’m trying to come out of my shyness and offer kindness and friendliness to others. Most of the time, people are friendly right back.

I’m not perfect. I can easily be turned off by a negative comment or even if I feel someone looks at me with judgment. I get peeved when cashiers and baggers carry on a conversation with each other and ignore the customers. I can be in a bit of a bad mood or in a hurry and forget the importance of being friendly. I can be so wrapped up in my own stuff that my world becomes narrow. I understand that others have their own stories and issues in life, too. 

I’m working on this for myself and to help others.  I know how I feel when someone gives me a smile or offers a kind word. I am happy when others take the time to talk to me. Yes, when someone is working, I can’t carry on a full conversation, but the few seconds it takes to exchange a little camaraderie can mean a lot to someone.

The other day I was in a store where the cashier, a guy probably a good two feet taller than I, just stared over my head or off to the side. He didn’t smile. He had to call someone over to handle a problem with my gift card and, after the transaction was complete (with him never once looking at me), he never even offered a bag for my items until I started to pick them up, then he grunted, “Wanna bag?” I snapped back, “Not now and thank you for being friendly and smiling.”

I think I was in shock because usually the people there are so friendly and helpful. A woman helped me find what I needed and made suggestions. She asked what I did for art work and acted as if she knew me. That’s the kind of service that is enjoyable and makes you want to go back to that store.

But I ended up walking out of the store feeling angry at the cashier. He made me feel invisible, like I didn’t matter. I was grumbling to myself about why people get jobs working with people when they are not people-friendly and why management hires these kinds of people to work with their customers. Yes, I realize he was probably very unhappy about something in his life.

And I realize I had an attitude about the situation, too. I didn’t try to be friendly to him – course it’s hard to be friendly to a stone-face staring over your head. Still, I didn’t try. It’s hard, too, when other people are in line waiting. I think of things I could have said in hindsight.

Last night I was reading “Greatly Daring” by Brene Brown. Brown said in many of her interviews, people who are in service-related jobs often feel invisible, taken for granted. They often feel they are treated as a thing, not a human-being. 

How ironic this comes up after I had that incident in the store. It’s funny because Annette and I have been talking about giving and receiving. She always makes cookies during the Christmas season and will take some to the post office workers, fire and police department personnel, and others who perform a service for the public.

The lesson here is to remember that we are all human beings and human beings need connectedness – connection to other people. Yet we get so wrapped up in our own issues, we forget how important it is to acknowledge everyone around us. A simple smile or a nod is sometimes enough. A kind word will often elicit kindness in return. Something so simple can make someone’s day.

Making New Christmas Memories

So after the past few days of tears and grieving for Christmases past, I am ready to make new memories. Talking about that grief lifted a huge weight from my shoulders. I am surprised how good I feel this morning. (I know, I have the month of December to go, but I feel I made a great break through. It still won’t be easy. I can do it and, do it well!)

The neighbors across the street put up more lighted decorations yesterday and their place looks great. I want lights, too, especially now that I have a cute farmer’s porch to make pretty. Colored lights bring me joy. I loved my summer solar lights – brought inside for the winter as they are not receiving enough sunlight. Now it’s time for holiday lights.

I threw out many big boxes of Christmas decorations when I moved; all the old lights, ornaments, and garland of the past 20 years along with a four-foot tree. (I had a lot of stuff!) I kept only a couple of small items and a fake wreath. I don’t regret getting rid of the old. It’s one thing to have nice memories, but I don’t need a constant reminder of what was. It’s time for changes.

Now I have to buy new decorations – not a lot. Maybe I’ll even get a small tree for inside. I ordered a few things online and I’m eagerly awaiting their arrival. Small steps, as right at this moment, I am still planning on spending Christmas day alone. Still, I can surround myself with beauty. That I can do.

Being around others on Christmas day will take a lot of courage and I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet. The last thing I’d want to do is to have a meltdown in front of grandchildren. I don’t feel comfortable around excited, happy people on this day. But I’m getting better.

I really am making new Christmas memories.

A Holiday Revelation and Yet Another Issue to Work On

After five years since my mother’s passing, and more, really because there were the years of decline, the holidays are still tough for me. I’ve been blaming it on my mother’s passing, but wait ... it really started when both my sons decided they (and their families) would stay at their own homes for the holidays. They have every right to do so and I allow them their choices. I understand and can see things from their stand point. I know they love us (me, now).

Then when my brother and his wife also decided not to come any more, Mum and I settled into our “alone” holidays. Ma refused to go out, although we might have gone once or twice to Don’s for Thanksgiving, but Christmases were just the two of us. We stopped buying presents. Today I am realizing how much that still hurts; and how MUCH it hurts!

I’ve occasionally talked about this in past – a little. I’ve never told any of them how much it hurt and how much it hurts me still. Ma never talked about it at all. Maybe it hurt her more than she ever let on, and more and more she’d just sit in her rocking chair locked in her own thoughts. After all, Christmas, especially, was her favorite holiday and she so loved buying presents for everyone and having everyone come to the house. She lived to have a house full of family. Suddenly having the holiday day just being the two of us must have been more traumatic for her than I ever realized.

Maybe it’s time to start talking ... except I can’t without tears. Every year the season is full of tears. And I CHOOSE to stay alone.

I’ve been afraid. If I start to talk about how I feel, it will all come down to being my fault. I’m afraid that they will start pointing out all the things that I did wrong and where I was/am lacking as a mother and grandmother. I’m afraid that somewhere along the way I’ve hurt them. How can I ever fix that? How can I ever know that I didn’t do anything wrong? At least I don’t think I did. But I’ve always had to be true to my authentic self.

I have mentioned the poor mother/grandmother aspect before, but not so much about the holiday issue. I just kept telling myself that they all have the right to celebrate holidays as they see fit (and they do). I still love them no matter what. Maybe it’s only in my mind that there are issues.

This is something to work on during this season. I have to be gentle and loving with myself, as I am with others, and work on better understanding why I feel as I do. I thought I had this behind me, but evidently there’s more I need to resolve within myself.

The work goes on. I am Enough! I am getting better! I am a good, loving person!

  

A Year of Letting Go

I wanted to wait until year’s end before thinking about what 2015 meant and set goals for 2016 and now that it is New Year’s Eve, my mind is relatively blank. This is unusual after the gush of words this past week. Am I all worded out?

My plan this morning was to list my goals for the coming year, but I realize that I should close out 2015 first. What has 2015 meant for and to me? It certainly has been a highly emotional year.

The major highlights included the trip to Florida in late January-early February, the selling of the Bradford house in June, and the finding, purchase, and move to the house in Hillsboro in late August. The settling into the home the latter four months of the year have left me feeling shaken up, turned inside-out, and thrown down. My head is still spinning. The pieces haven’t settled (picture a snow globe). I struggle to get back on my feet.

2015 has certainly been a year of letting go. That letting go started on the trip south when plans changed. I had to let go of the preconceived goals and get into my usual ability to be spontaneous. Then on Mother’s Day, an unexpected turn of events led a buyer to the Bradford house. I wanted to move, but there was always the question of whether I’d pull it off. With a buyer showing up at my door out of the blue, I let the signs fall and grabbed the opportunity.

Then came the huge task of downsizing. Talk about letting go! There were years of accumulation – of mine, plus some of my mother’s stuff. What do I get rid of? How do I let it go? Thankfully, I had help, lots of help. I could never have done it on my own. Much was given away and thrown away. It was heartbreaking, but I had to do it. I had to close down and not allow myself to feel to get it done.

Finding a new home came down to the wire. I had to be out of Bradford by the end of August and I managed to pull it off (again with lots of help and support). It wasn’t my dream house. It wasn’t where I wanted to be. And again, I had to let go. I had let go of that dream of what my perfect house would be and change the plan to what I could live with.

I moved in with boxes packed just about floor to ceiling and spread out into the yard – far too many possessions which meant more stuff had to go. It was hard. Some things tore my heart strings to put out to the curb free for the taking. I watched possessions walk away or get thrown away. I could not keep everything. I had to let them go.

It took a few months, but I began feeling better about the entire experience. I started feeling settled in my smaller home. Then came Christmas; a time of year especially difficult for me. As I sat alone on Christmas Day, there came even more letting go as I realized that situations and beliefs that I’d held onto these past years were really not valid anymore and it was time to let those go. 

Wow! It feels like a lot of the old has washed away. I’m standing on the precipice of a new year and I’m not even sure where it will take me. This letting go process of 2015 has left me feeling more open and free. I face 2016 with excitement and butterflies in my stomach. After all this letting go, what will the coming year fill me with?

Cannot Move Forward Holding Too Much onto the Past

I spent yesterday, Christmas Day, exactly as I planned… but something shifted within me as the day went on.

I wrote the morning journal pages and blogged. I posted a Merry Christmas to all on Facebook. Then I cleaned of the table and got out the game of yap. This was my mom’s favorite and after her passing on Christmas Day 2011, the ensuing Christmas Days were spent playing as three people – as if she, my aunt, and I were playing the game just like we used to. It was my way of honoring their memory, especially my mom’s. She would like that.

However, within half an hour, or less, of playing yesterday, I was bored. I’ve never been bored playing yap before. I even talked with them about “their” plays, but for some reason, my heart wasn’t in it. This year, it felt meaningless. It didn’t feel like they were with me.

What did that mean? Does it mean that it really is time for me to let go? Ma certainly wouldn’t want me pining myself away over her memory. I certainly miss her every day of my life, but perhaps I no longer need to honor her by playing a game. The honor is in always loving her. She was my mum and there’s something special, so very special about mothers.

Maybe it’s about layers. Yes, there was a letting go a couple years ago when we scattered their ashes in the Merrimac River at Salisbury Beach Reservation, but I still held onto her. There has been the getting rid of possessions; a little each year, but I still held on to her. This year was a big letting go when I sold the house where she and I last lived together; a place where my heart wrenched every time I looked out the window at the flower garden I’d made for her.

This new home is another phase of the letting go process. I’ve spent the past few months getting rid of excess possessions. But mum and I ourselves have to move on and how can I do so if I am not willing to let her go? I will always honor my mother and will always love her and miss her forever. I will keep her picture nearby, but I no longer need to let the grief of her loss cripple me. I have to let her go. She needs to move on, too. 

I’m still processing this. Yesterday, another Christmas of letting her go. And yet, there is more of a release and understanding. I’ve run out of words to explain this. I’m sure I’ll come up with more the next few days.

I tried to write a poem:

Holding on to Her

Her consciousness slipped away

I clung to her hand

patted her arm 

wept, and held onto her 

Next morning phone call

she was gone

peacefully, the voice said

broken, I held onto her

Time passed

I got rid of her possessions 

I did not need

in memories, I held on to her 

A couple years went by

she asked to go home

ashes spread

I still held on to her

The house we shared sold

I moved away from sights

that brought tearful memories

struggling, I still held onto her

Downsizing more

possessions all mine

another Christmas arrived

I fought to hold onto her

A difference sparks:

she is not here

I cling, I cry

and desperately hold on

A subtle time-space shift 

a moment of release

she will always be part of me

but I no longer have to hold on

She is my mother

I will always love her

and I will miss her forever 

I set her free

I love you, Mum.

    ---Sasha Wolfe 2015

I’m not totally happy with this poem…

Caught between Writing a Christmas Message and the Fires of a Creative Mind

My Christmas message is about wishing everyone simple peace, joy, quiet, love and happiness. It’s taking a few moments from hectic lifestyles to sit back, take deep, slow breaths, and allow calmness to permeate your entire being. Wish kindness, gentleness, and well-being to one and all. Spread joy. In my heart, I am embracing you all.

But, as it is so often, my thoughts are distracted. The pendulum in my mind swings from wanting to write about the spirit of Christmas to book, Book, BOOK and how to improve my travel writing. The traveling is not just about going on a vacation. My life is so entwined with what I call work because a lot of what I do is potential for story, book, articles, poems, and art. I can’t pull myself away from it, nor do I want to.

The biggest goal in traveling (as I’m in the throes of finishing this latest book) is not just for me, but to take you, the reader, on the trip with me. As I learn about areas visited, people I meet, and see different landscapes, vistas, and buildings, it is important to share that knowledge with you. I want you to see what I see, feel what I feel upon seeing new sites and experiencing different places. After all, if I cannot share these new discoveries, what fun is the travel? I cannot keep all this just to myself!

Yesterday afternoon was spent on one chapter, one day from last February. I am feeling like I missed something; a lacking in my descriptions. It’s hard when driving 55-70 mph to remember what is seen. Yes, I have a few photos, but…

So, this morning, I am already thinking how to describe the next trip better even though there are doubts to how I could ever afford to go on another such trip. 

But wait! This is Christmas. Why am I working? Because that’s where my mind goes. Naaah, let me pull back and take the day off. Yeah, I’m sure that no matter what I do today, I’ll occasionally write down some notes. It’s what a do.

Merry Christmas, Everyone. No matter what your beliefs, I hope you all have a great day.

Christmas Eve Party in my Mind

I often try to describe the flashes of inspiration that flood my soul. This morning, it’s a feeling of a bunch of friends and neighbors crowding the door, ringing the bell (not that I have a doorbell), and all trying to get in the house (my mind). It’s ironic that when I get these flashes, it’s not just one train of thought. 

The visitors never stay long, but they all want to talk at the same time. If I don’t pay immediate attention to them, they disappear. Uh, oh, I just had another thought… what are you all going to think about me if I admit to having a ton of voices in my head? But it’s not really voices I hear. The impressions come in words and feelings and sometimes pictures. And it comes in one huge gush lasting about an hour. It’s exciting and just like a real party. Hmmm, I’ve never looked at it this way.

Maybe this is why I struggle in physical crowds and why I don’t like real parties, ha ha. If the mental crowd in my head is a bit overwhelming, then also having actual people around is much more. I am left with a similar feeling from both examples. I want to talk to everyone, listen to everyone. I want to give each feeling, thought, idea its due, but I can’t get it all down on paper. I feel guilty because there is always someone whom I didn’t give proper attention.

How interesting this is.

It’s like when the whole family visits and I try to spend a little time with each grandchild and each parent. I want each person to get individual attention, but always, after they leave, I’m left thinking, “Oh I didn’t talk to so and so,” and I feel bad. Or when I cover an event for the newspaper and there are many people and things going on. I come away to write the story and realize I’ve missed something or did not talk to someone important.

This is what happens when, for that hour in the morning, my mind is open to that flood of artistic inspiration. It all gushes in at once. Ah, a time limit, that hour, and again, similar to attending events or visiting with friends and family. Time is always an issue. 

So this morning, Christmas Eve, these thoughts come pounding at my door and I have a party of creative inspiration in my mind. I scramble to write here and write in my journal while ideas pop up from conversations held yesterday or something read. 

I do have to admit that I find this exciting and a challenge as I try to record as much information as I can while also trying to let the brain run free with the incoming thoughts. No wonder I can’t stay focused on one project, ha ha, but I practice this. I let my mind be open to possibility and what joy this gives me.

I am happy. I may be physically alone, but there is a party in my head and I enjoy dancing and singing with inspiration and thoughts and ideas of creativity.

Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. I hope you can do what you enjoy!

I AM Somebody Even When I’m Alone

This morning I was journaling about being alone on Christmas Day to play my mother’s favorite game. I set up three sets as if she, my aunt and her twin Margaret, and I are playing and I take turns playing for the three of us. This is my way of honoring them; especially my mother, and I’ve done this for the past years since her passing on Christmas Day 2011.

Yet, even though I look forward to doing this, there is still part of me that feels lonely about spending Christmas alone. I insist on doing it this way and I am stubborn about it! On this, I am not willing to give in. 

So, while writing about this in my journal, I also got into how Ma always seemed to need people around her to make her happy. Did this mean she was an unhappy person on the inside, that she needed others’ attention and company to make her feel worthwhile? Is this why I am so adamant about my solitude?

How unhappy was my mother? Was she? I know Don and I were her life, along with her twin and brother. And of course, this wasn’t anything she would ever discuss… these types of things were secrets, not to be talked about. (Again, is this one of the reasons why I spend so much time researching emotions and the whys behind them?) 

Did my mother only define herself by who was around her? Did she need us to make her feel like she was somebody? Did she feel useless when she was alone? Maybe this is why I feel the need to define myself and acknowledge that I am OK alone as well as when I am with others.

I may be sad and in tears while writing about this, but I also find it very interesting. Is there a part of me deep down that knows my mother was in those places of sadness when she was alone? Of course, as a child, I wouldn’t know that, but now… is that why it is so important to me to play “her” game and insist on my solitude? There is that part of me that feels I need to prove to others that I am OK being alone, that I need solitude – and I do – but it must be balanced with the company of family and good friends.

So, once more I get a bit of understanding, a little snigget of wisdom, in this journey of humanness. 

There’s something about the love of one’s mother… I miss her so much!

A New Christmas Season

The past three Christmas seasons have been very emotional as everything about the Bradford house reminded me of my mother. Yes, I miss her every day and some days I still cry. I have her picture placed so she is always with me. I miss her so much!

But moving to the new home has lessened some of the pain, the sad memories. I will still spend Christmas alone with her, playing her favorite game. I am actually looking forward to it. However, this new home has a different feel… or maybe I just feel more ready to continue moving on. 

Years ago I went a bit overboard with decorating. That became less so in later years, then after her passing, hardly anything as grief was too encompassing during the season (she had passed away on Christmas Day). In having to downsize to move here, I got rid of all of the decorations that had been saved throughout the years. Some went before I left Bradford, then another two full boxes after moving here. 

I did keep a wreath, my little, foot-tall, lighted, purple tree, and a couple of purple and pink ornaments. I realize I got rid of some of the items I meant to save as some of what I kept actually had prices on them from the estate sale.

Now that I have neighbors and can see nightly Christmas lights, I am feeling more inspired again. My little lighted tree isn’t enough and the blue balls hanging on the old wreath do not go with the red-trimmed house. 

I don’t know if I want to purchase new decorations after throwing away and giving away so much. However, I feel the need for color, for brightness, for happiness. I need to bring in happy.

I can’t feel guilty about what I discarded because what worked in other homes would not work here, so perhaps I do need to go new. And I don’t need a lot… never again too much.

It seems that not only a physical move has made a big change in my life, but I am moving in other ways, too, as even how I look at my art is evolving. It happens. So maybe if I run out today to pay my taxes, I can reward myself by stopping to purchase something Christmasy to further brighten my new home. What do you think?