Discovery

"The right to be ridiculous is one that I hold dear" is a line Bono sings in "I'll go crazy..." . I agree.

I wasn't always willing to be seen as "ridiculous." I'm kind of a late-bloomer in that respect. But I know that about myself. For all the hubris, accolades, negatives, positives that go along with being "me" I still reserve the right to be "ridiculous." And frequently am.

Cause you see, I accept myself, but I also have figured out this tiniest bit of information about myself. It's okay to be ridiculous. And that knowledge is freeing. I once argued with an acquaintance that it was no longer important to me to be the "best." Perfect. What is important to me is to be the best "me." It's just that simple. And that knowledge did so much for me. It allowed me to be "ridiculous."

But it also led to another revelation.

My life was really going to be "discovery." Discovering how to be a better person. Discovering how to be a better dad. Discovering how to be a better leader. Discovering how to be a better partner. Discovery is an amazing thing. Going to Dublin with Megs was a journey of discovery. Being able to spend time in Vegas with my sister is a discovery. For my life to having meaning to me, for it all to be about anything, it doesn't extend outward, it extends inward.

But first, one has to be willing to appear "ridiculous."

I can.

Home

I'm home. And miss Dublin already. It was such a great trip. As I was coming back from dropping Megs home after the flight, I started to complain to myself about the heat in New York, traffic, my car's on the fritz AC, and I had to stop. I've had a wonderful summer. I got great news about my school. I went to Vegas and hung out with my sister for 10 days. Got to spend a week in Dublin with Megs. And it dawned on me sitting in BQE traffic....shut up. And I think that's something we do -- we continually look at our lives and want...want....want. Personally, I'm going to complain less (to myself and others) and just work (a key word) to enjoy the rather wonderful life I have. Not in a Pollyanna way, but in a realistic way. I wouldn't trade the job I have and the summer has been amazing. That's kinda nice.

Dublin, Day 7

It's Monday Morning. Our last full day in Dublin. We have a 10:30am flight back to New York tomorrow. Back to the reality of getting ready for school; paying bills; all the stuff that comprises a life. I've enjoyed this trip enormously. The time with Megs in this historic city. We've developed a nice routine to our days -- walking here, going there, selecting restaurants, just deciding how we want to spend the day.
We tried to visit Christ Church again yesterday but were stopped by a Church official (priest?) due to a service of some sort. Megs and I had to laugh. First, filming the "Tudors" and now a service that went to 5:00pm. We're not big church goers but we are determined to see the oldest church in Ireland. So, it's on the schedule for today along with a visit to the Jameson's distillery (not a Scotch drinker but why not?).
I've been to Vegas and Dublin this summer. I love both places and could easily live in either. In both I feel a certain calm and attachment that I don't feel in NYC. I can't see myself not visiting Ireland every 2 - 3 yrs. or so. I've done the West Coast of Ireland in an earlier trip (Bunratty, Cliffs of Mohr, Dingle, Kinsale -- simply the most beautiful coastal city I've ever been in,-- Kilkenny) and now Dublin for a solid week. I still want to see the North -- Belfast, etc. It'll come. This is such an amazing place.

Dublin, Day 5

It's about 10:00am as I write this. The day is, in the words of U2, "A Beautiful Day." Sunny, no clouds, no wind, high 60's, not a cloud to be seen. Might be the best weather day we've had. Was out early. Grabbed a coffee (one coffee shop -- close by -- is named "Insomnia"...priceless), walked up to the Liffey River, lit up a Cuban (my first ever, somewhat pricey), took a seat, and just watched the river roll on. Not the "breakfast of champions" but a great start to the day. I am so enjoying this trip. This city, the time with Megs, just terrific.
We're looking at our last three days here. We've seen a ton of sights and we just want to chill and relax in the time left. Today we're taking a bus tour around the city followed by a stop at the Writer's Museum. I'd like to hear some "live" music tonight which probably means visiting Temple Bar area tonight.
Fact I learned this morning. There are actual fish in the Liffey River -- actually the river didn't look like it could support fish but there they were swimming around. I hadn't seen any in the couple of days before this.

Day 4, Dublin

I've really enjoyed this trip so far. The time to be with my daughter. The people here aren't overly friendly, which I like. They're attitude seems to be "we have our own stuff to do, and it's nice that you're here and all, but we've got a life to get after." Helpful, yes. Saying "hello" to you every 5 minutes, no. I enjoy the chance to just move and learn the city. It's pace. It's sorta like we're gonna be here after you go home so enjoy yourself, have fun.
Our hotel is on the Liffey River, across from U2's "Clarence" hotel (it just worked out that way...lol). It's one of the best parts of the trip to just grab a coffee, and just look at the river, smoking a cigarette. People are scurrying around but within that, one can grab a moment of calm. Dublin in August seems to be about 65, overcast with bits of rain, and intermittent sun. It's out this morning. The sun. Quite a change from a New York or Vegas summer.
We're going to Kilmainham Jail and the Guiness plant today. Kilmainham has tremendous social, political and historical significance. I've been there before, taken some great photos, but I want to see it again, feel that history of the Uprising again. And Guiness? Well, to avoid the stereotype, the brand seems to be omnipresent here. I'm more interested in the views of Dublin from the Gravity Bar on the top floor.
So far, we've been to O'Connell Street, Christ Church (it was closed to film the "Tudors") St. Patricks Cathedral (largest Protestant church in Ireland and burial place for Jonathan Swift), Dublin Castle, Trinity College, Grafton Street (looks like Diagon Alley out of the Potter books), Temple bar area (duh! but a place with tremendous energy), the National Gallery, the National Museum, and Merrion Square (great park, nice architecture around it) among other spots. The nice part is that everything is so close together (relatively) so it doable to walk from one spot to another. Still to come are Phoenix Park (Dublin's answer to NY's Central Park) and the Writer's Museum (we're gonna do a "walking tour" starting there). Like I said, we've been busy.
I've taken a ton of photos already. And I'm actually starting to know my way around a bit. Funny, because I have no sense of direction. In fact, some are surprised I find my way out of my apartment most mornings. But I'm starting to see a bit how the streets connect.
More to come.....

Day 3 in Dublin

I'm in Dublin with my younger daughter. On vacation. Have been here once before. It's an amazing city. I decided this visit, instead of hopping all over, or being part of a tour, to just spend the week in Dublin. Good choice, I think.
Dublin is small, or compact, so a ton of things are in walking distance of each other. We've been on the go since we got here, although not in that "check it off, let's move on" way. More, "we want to see that, then maybe that" kind of way. I really do enjoy this city. It's more of a "horizontal" format with few buildings over 4-5 stories as opposed to "vertical" cities like New York.
It's just that Dublin has such a nice feel to it. It has history but not in a "do you know where you are?" manner that I remember from London but a more "blue collar" approach. More like "here we are, hope you like it" way or "didn't bring that, ok". Just everyday folks making their way. Maybe it's an Irish thing.
And I've noticed a few things:
-- everyone seems to drive BMW's or Mercedes. BMW's mainly. It just seems like every other car is one.
-- their bacon isn't the bacon that I've known all my life. It's real meat and all but it ain't what I call bacon.
-- everyone smokes. Not in bars, or inside buildings, etc. But on the street, walking from place to place, I haven't noticed this many people openly smoking in New York.
-- walking around I forget that I can't look right for passing cars but rather have to continually look left when crossing a street. Wrong side driving and all.
More in the next few days....

Vegas

I'm in Las Vegas. Have been for about 9 days. Making my contribution to the "Steve Wynn needs a new hotel" fund. Or as I sometimes refer to it the "why the slots gods don't smile at me" tour. I love it here. When I'm done with my work, I'm gonna be here permanently. Am already planning for that day. Been looking at houses. Trying to remember and learn how streets connect to each other. Yes, it's a billion degrees. Yes, it's strange to eventually put down roots in a transient town. But Vegas is more than the Strip. I get a "feeling" when I'm here. Somehow calmer. Less pressured. The people actually smile and say "thank you" (and not just in the casinos). Everywhere I look I see mountains (duh, I know it's a valley). Vegas has a certain heart that I connect with which is hard for me to reproduce other places. I felt the same thing when I visited Ireland a few years back. I can see myself in Vegas carving out a simple life and thoroughly enjoying what I find here. I like the image.
Was saddened by the passing of Frank McCourt, the Irish writer. Two of his books, Tis and Teacherman are just amazing reads. And Angela's Ashes was a memoir that I just could not get through. Aside from the clarity and tenacity of the writing I just could not handle the description of the unrelenting poverty it contained. And so I stopped reading it. I shouldn't have. I believe you have to -- in ways small or large, your choice -- honor the people and events that have had an impact on your life. And definitely not in a "look at me kind of way." But in ways more subtle. I didn't know -- except through his books and the media -- Frank McCourt. But one of the best experiences I've had is staying in a warm bed on a rainy Saturday morning reading Tis. In memory of that feeling, I think I want to pick up a copy of Angela's Ashes And finish it. Thank you Mr. McCourt.
Got a chance to see one of my daughters this trip. Amazing child and now amazing young woman. It's funny, in my own upbringing, I always felt that I had to satisfy my parents desires/goals for me. It wasn't so much what I wanted for myself, as, I felt, doing what they wanted for me. It took me many years of wrestling with it to get clear of that kind of philosophy. I know what I want for each of my daughters. But being a parent, I think, is helping them achieve/figure out what they want for themselves. Yes, it makes living with some of their decisions difficult. But those are their decisions. I don't know how her decisions will turn out, but they're hers.

notes from the iVillage..

  I was recently on Facebook and took a quiz. Nothing unusual there. In fact, some of my friends live to take Facebook quizzes. As well they should. But I digress. I took a "Which Hogwarts teacher are you" quiz. Turns out I'm Remus Lupin. Yeah, exactly, the werewolf guy.

  Now, nothing wrong with that. Except that I have this special history with Harry Potter. When I got divorced, I struggled with the idea of how to stay close to my two daughters. With one, I seemed to be able to talk and share and the relationship just continued. With the other it was harder. She was younger and the silences were more pronounced. I floundered. Had doubts. Worried a lot. Until I heard she was devouring Harry Potter books.

  And I started to read them. To have a language to talk with her in. And I enjoyed them. And this barrier that I thought was there.....wasn't. It wasn't just Harry. Harry gave us a commonality to touch each other with. So, I thought of all this as the quiz told me I was Lupin. And it sorta fits. Lupin was a werewolf who didn't really fit in the wizarding world. Yet he had amazing lessons to give Harry. He was friends with Harry's father and mother. Yet he didn't really belong. I've struggled with "belonging" my whole life. I feel I have much to contribute but often feel distant from the very ones I want to contribute it too. Like Lupin, I see things that others don't, but often am just quiet while I wait for them to catch up. So I just keep working.

  On another note. Honesty. How do I feel about it? This blog is going to be as honest as I can possibly be.  I believe we learn from each other, from our experiences, shared. But I also realize that one person has asked me to refrain from putting them in this blog. I'll respect that.  It does get in the way when I want to write about certain things but that's really the only holdback I have. I just really feel that I can learn from someone else, and someone may learn from this blog. I could be wrong. 

An iWorld

  I believe we're living in an iWorld. iMac, iPod, iPhone. It seems to be unavoidable. And I'm not one of those "technology rots, gimme a pencil and slip of paper" people either. I don't run around ranting, "Where's my typewriter." (if you're unsure of that reference drop me a note in the iVillage).  I enjoy technology. No, not just enjoy, but embrace it. In fact, I'm waiting for the "iBerry." (And Apple, should it come to pass, just send the check -- and I'm sure someone will correct me and tell me how the iPhone already does what an iBerry does. No matter.).

  But we are speaking some serious "Jetson" like technology available to the "everyman." I recently purchased an iMac. And not the least of it because I was turned off by the IBM "you find it, you keep it ads." I mean really, the ad isn't making me believe they're committed to customer service. Anyway, I bought the iMac for a very simple reason. iChat. My daughters live in other parts of the iWorld and having the ability to "see and talk" rather than just speak over the telephone was the crucial factor. So Friday night, my daughter sent me an iChat invitation and we spoke for like an hour. Me sitting in an apartment on one coast and her in her apartment on the other coast. 

  Amazing stuff.   

Father's Day

  I've wanted to write this post for a few days now. Father's Day is kinda important to me. I have two amazing, wonderful daughters. They are as different as could possibly be. But they are alike in ways I'm sure they are just learning about and hopefully will continue to discover about themselves. I'm proud of that. It should be a journey in which they discover not only their differences but their bonds. They have many. And one of the best experiences I've had in the last 10 years is watching them discover those bonds. 

  It's vaguely similar to what my sister and I have gone through. Discovering our trust in each other, and love for each other.  Just cause you grew up in the same family is no guarantee that you'll be close....or even care about each other. My sister and I are at a place where after a childhood spent torturing each other we complete each others sentences and long for opportunities to be together. I depend on her to keep me sane.....not an easy task under the best of circumstances.

  But my daughters. And Father's Day.

  When  I was named an assistant principal a while ago, in a Community School Board Meeting, I said, "I hope that they are as proud of me tonight as I have been of them every day of their lives."  Nothing much has changed. They are my conscience. And I am so grateful to be their "dad." Father's Day is more about them and the sense of happiness and fulfillment they bring to my life every day than anything I could ever do for them. I understand why my mom (henceforth known here as Satan) holds on to any relationship she can have with my brother (who I wouldn't lend a glass of water to in the desert and I'm sure he returns the favor). I don't agree with it but I understand it. And she should have it. 

  So it'll be a quiet Fathers Day. And that's okay. I love them every day.

Trust

I don't know how or when it happened. I just woke up one morning, seriously, and trusted myself. Trusted myself in how to raise my daughters, trusted myself in how to interact with people, trusted myself in my career, I just believed. In me. And my ability. It was around 2003. I had been in therapy. I just -- somehow -- knew.
The years of feeling insubstantial melted. The "you can't see me" years faded. The years of questions and doubts....just faded. My demons haven't disappeared. I still have issues with love, and relationships, and trust and other things. I'm flawed.
What changed? Mainly my relationship with myself. I accepted that I was flawed, that I would have to continually have to learn. And work to learn. I just began to trust myself to get it done. And with that trust of myself came a different way of looking at every corner of my life. And everyone in it. It became okay not to be there yet. The difference became just being the best me rather than being perfect.
Did my life suddenly sprout roses at every turn. Nope.
I've had another failed relationship. I'm still battling demons. Still trying to improve and learn.
But it's okay. I make amends to people. I'm flawed. But it's okay.
And with that trust in myself came belief in others. And that is an amazing thing.

shadows

I used to be, repeat used to be jealous of people who I thought saw things strictly in black and white. Hell, when I was younger, I was one of those people. Back then, everything was pretty easy to discern. But as I got into life, and felt different things, and dealt with other things, and went through a period where I kept getting phiolosophically and emotionally whacked, I became less sure. And I grew envious and jealous of those people who could maintain seeing the world in black and white. Simply. Two colors.
It's sort of like wanting to be the best. Competitive. I was like that too. But then, it wasn't about being the best. It became about being the best me. And there was no need for simply two colors. My world could exist with many hues.....shades. It didn't mean that standards and ideals went out the window. No, it became simply my standards.
How?
I dunno. It did require some heavy lifting, Some willingness to look in corners. Some acceptance that it might not work. But mainly, some belief in self. Some trust of self. Some hard work at not believing that what others thought mattered.
It's easier now.

musings

I don't think of myself as a man who inspires more questions about myself than answers. But I've been told otherwise. I do talk a lot about many things which would lead you to think you know me but I tend to talk a little about the things I'm thinking about the hardest. I'm flawed and evolving.
I am sooooo looking forward to this trip West. Aside from seeing my sister and daughter it's just the chance to be out West again. I like the mountains, the people, and, of course, Red Rocks. Like the West Coast of Ireland (Dingle, Cliffs of Mohr, Galway) Red Rocks is just so damn magical and beautiful. One wonders at what combination of random events produced something so breathtaking. I like sitting in my sister's yard with a cup of coffee, Storm moseying around, and looking over the housetops at the mountains in the distance. A very quieting, internal feeling.
I just can't wait.

a promise

I believe certain things. They just seem to strike me as true after all I've been through and experienced. And I have a problem with blogging. To me, it makes no sense to blog unless one is honest. And that means being honest about everything. No editing. No censoring. It's not a popular position. I read other blogs. Often everyday. And that's question I'm always left with. How honest is this person?

So what do I believe? That I'm flawed. And often struggle between my public perception and my private perception. That I believe we are all interconnected. That I can learn from you and that writing about my own experience can help us both. That my writing is important. That your happiness -- in itself is important -- but not as a consequence of what I write.

That ego -- yours or mine -- matters little to me. That yes......I could go back into therapy......or keep a journal....but that I'd rather deal with being flawed.....in public......out there.....for all to see...again....we're interconnected.

So what does what I believe mean to what I write? Good question. I also don't believe in easy answers. I'm trying to capture in words (often imprecise as Spock mentioned) what it means to be a thinking, seeking to understand, rational person. And invite anyone who may stop here on this blog along for the ride.

Your choice.

thoughts...again

I do truly feel lucky. About going west, seeing U2, and getting back to Ireland this summer. But I'm also just flat-out tired. Of doing what I do. Of being me. Of listening to me say what I say. Daily. I guess I'm tired of hearing my own bullshit. I can't put it any simpler. There's a tendency with a blog to constantly stress the positive....to always want to put a positive spin on posts. That's nonsense. I get tired of being me every once in a while.And then a kid will say something.....or a person will touch me with their spirit of hope.....or I'll read something......or I'll cry at Extreme Home Makeover.....and I'll be .....ok.....and I can do the work some more.....and the words aren't hollow.....and I believe.....I never know if I'll come out the other side.....if I'll believe again.....if the work, and my personal sacrifice.....will make sense to me....I want to continue to make people dream.....to embolden people with the possible.....because I see where we as an individual and community.....can get to.....

thoughts

I'm pretty lucky. I was saying that to someone at work the other day. That I'm lucky and underneath that, that my life....despite its minor valleys....is pretty lucky. In a good sense. I have a pretty cool job that isn't a job but more like a "calling." I have tickets to U2 in September. With one of my daughters who's never seen them in concert (I've seen them 4 times). The stage will rotate 360 degrees. How cool? Really? I have a trip out to Nevada in a week to see my sister and daughter. I truly love the West and stop to think at least once a day how I can get there sooner than 2016. And I have a trip to Dublin in mid-August. Back to Ireland. My second visit. Day trips to here and there. Nights in the Temple Bar District. Ireland. Dublin.
Yeah.....pretty lucky.

Travel

I've never really traveled too much. Mainly cause I never had much money. But then my sister relocated to Vegas, and I started going out there, sometimes bringing one of my daughters. And then there was Ireland. Went there in '06....saw the whole west Coast. Spectacular.
I booked a return to Vegas for April recently. And then tonight booked a return trip to Ireland. Amazing stuff....can't wait.

a Sunday afternoon

I've been planning a book on leadership. It would be adaptable to either education or business -- that part doesn't really interest me, though. I want to call it "Sideways Leadership" and have it anchored to my belief that people don't follow anyone or anything who doesn't empower them. I know how to build a community, I know how to empower people. Long ago, I learned that people shouldn't be made to operate from a "fear base." It's an external reaction. The more internal reaction is when someone invites you to stand alongside them to witness, jointly, the vision. That's Sideways Leadership. I have a 2nd book planned as well -- "yo misser.......notes from an urban principal." That one would be more anecdotal....centering on what I experienced and learned during my time as an urban principal.
I have to get going.

a few thoughts...

I've been alone -- defined as not in a relationship -- for about two and a half years now. It's ok.....I date....but I've been alone -- defined as having no-one to share thoughts, etc. with -- while I was in relationships. One needs to decide how -- in life -- to be "alone" with oneself. It's a tough question. And not easy to answer. I think at the heart of it.....and after much reflection with a dash of therapy...it comes down to how honest you can be with yourself. Can one admit what you know in your head? What's in your heart? To yourself? Or, do a few good rationalizations get you through the day? Your day.
My life is full. My daughters are my soul and a huge facet of my life. My work/job is something I really love and look forward to going to every day. I can't imagine my life without it. Both my daughters and my work are sources of great pride. My ex-, and my sister, are amazing women. Full of strength and smart opinions that I trust. My friends are pretty cool. I depend on them for much.
But still, I'm alone. I try to learn how to deal with the aloneness every day. It isn't emptiness. Don't be confused. It's being alone. I used to think that self discovery, or greater self knowledge, would remedy that. And the self knowledge is absolutely essential. Critical even. But I don't think it removes the aloneness. I think that's a myth we're sold.
I really think it comes down to what we opereate from. Either fear or love. I've chosen love.
I think the aloneness is just part of the deal in a randomly assorting universe.

still..

I'm still sick. This headcold just won't leave me. I was supposed to fly out West to see my daughter and then drop down to spend time with my sister. But my daughter is sick and in NYC for treatment and I just decided -- I'm sick, she's sick, might as well just hang out in NYC -- so here I am. I do miss my sister though. It's either gonna be visiting her or Ireland in April. Dublin might be the ticket.
I've decided to be healthy. I've started to walk again and tomorrow the gym beckons.No, silly.....I still intend to smoke.Yeah, yeah, I know. Do we feel better now? But I do want to get back into the gym and walk and be a bit smarter about how I eat, etc.

just thoughts....

I'm preoccupied by things. I'm sick with a nasty headcold.. I'm flawed. I've got to deal with the flaws -- I know, I know...when? I dunno. And one daughter is unhappy where she is while the other is physically sick and faces surgery. One just deals. I can't fix it all even though my instinct is to believe I can. But I know, deep down, I can't. The trick, right now, is to be nice to myself. In the past I would tear through, and beat myself up, and demand more. Of myself. But I won't. I'll do what I can. And that will have to be good enough.

on things that occur

My daughter came home unexpectedly. I have two. Daughters. One is dealing with an auto-immune illness. It's been checked for a while. Until now. She lives on the other coast but flew in because....even in this time of "hope" her insurance is only valid here. Unfortunately, she lives there. As a parent when your child is sick it just rips your heart out. Maybe I should have insisted -- even though she's a grown woman -- that she live here.I really wish I had been there the day they gave out child rearing manuals. I have to figure out how to be there for her regardless of the feelings raging inside of me. I keep reapeating, it's not about me.
Other things, I wrote about being flawed. I am. And I'm okay with it. I know what I bring to things. I know my demons. Accepting being flawed does not give me an excuse. The recognition doesn't ennable me to slide forward. Acceptance of being flawed entails acceptance of fixing the flaws. That may be the drawback. I know my flaws but am not always ready to fix them. It's a problem.

on being flawed....

I have to get my car cleaned tomorrow. We've had cold snaps, snow, rain, below freezing temps, and my 9 yr. old car needs a carwash. Badly. People tell me, because of my job, I should have a newer, sleeker, jazzier car. Tis okay. My car, much like it's owner, is flawed. Oh, it looks okay but there are nicks and scratches and cracks, and a window that doesn't work and needs to be duct taped. I generally get my car washed regularly when I'm in a relationship. I haven't been for about 2 yrs. I have been dating. So I clean it occassionally. But there isn't a rush to any of this.
I used to believe I had to be perfect. It caused me great stress and anger. I wanted to be perfect but I've learned to like myself as I am. Flawed. But I've learned I just have to try to be the best "me" I can. It's a subtle but effective switch in thinking.

this moment

I've been swept up in the inaugural and Martin Luther King Jr. Day. It's a nice feeling. I really believe that this election will be a transforming moment of hope for us as individuals and the country. And that's a great thing. Lord knows we need it. What's coming across to me through all the media, etc. is that we now have to take personal responsibility. And that's a good thing. No excuses.
Excuses are done.
And they should be. As I've grown, I spent considerable time trying to discover who I am. Through three different jobs, two different relationships, through being a father, always the questions for me have been how do I become more honest with myself and who am I?
For most of my life, music has played an important role. And the music of U2 has been predominant. Right now, a line from "City Of Lights" has stayed in my mind. "What happened to the beauty I had inside of me?" I've been wondering about that. I always try to look to the light (love) rather than the darkness (fear) to lead my life. I've been trying to get back to the "beauty" I know I had inside me at various points. It's a struggle. I've said it elsewhere. I'm flawed.

i have always

needed, and wanted, to write.
I have a story to live, share, write about.
I share it only in the hope that you might glean some insight into your own journey. Nothing else.
I'm lonely. And alone. My life is full. Yet empty. I'm whole. Yet you can see the cracks. I'm many things.
Mostly.
I'm flawed.
Full of positives and contradictions and shortcomings,
But flawed.
At war with myself. At peace with my place in the world.
Like Gatsby, I know appearances are everything. But i may not care what you think.
I know, and accept, that we are motivated by love (good) and fear. I try to avoid the fear and move toward the good. It isn't always easy.
Hence my war with myself at times.
But mostly.
I'm flawed.
I'm okay with that.

i need

to write. I always have. From the poetry of my early years to this blog, I've had this need to write. For a long time I didn't accept, nor understand, it. But not anymore. Writing is just part of who I am.
and that's been the real journey, figuring out who I am. I've learned more and more as the years have past by. I haven't always liked what I learned. But I know it's the truth. Through therapy, through meditiation, through discussions, through reflection. I get closer to learning who I am. Can I accept it? But through it all, I write.
now a blog. that evidentually nobody reads. I'd like to say that's okay. I write the blog to enter into a discussion about what we all -- since I believe we're interconnected -- experience. And plus, my ego likes feedback. But maybe it shouldn't. Maybe the writing, the "putting it out there" should be enough. Lord knows there are larger issues than this that I want to address.
i've been thinking a lot about relationships and intimacy lately. After my divorce, I went through a terrible time learning how to live alone. ANd deal with the loneliness. I lived with my sister for a while, and then got an apartment by myself. It was a difficult time. My sister was amazing. She helped me so easily. But I had been married for so long, and at such an early age, that I never learned how to be on my own. I stumbled into a short (3 months) intense relationship that was a disaster. I went into therapy. A few years past. The point was that through it all I felt like someone "de-iced" from an earlier time period. I knew none of the shorthand, none of the tells.Simply, I was lost.
married for 20 years, alone for 6, through therapy and all the rest, I started to feel more comfortable in my own skin. The point being that I continued to examine, reflect, question. And amazing things were happening for me professionally. I was given the chance to do something truly special in a field that was going to define my life. I leapt at it. And my girls. The reflection they held up to me forced me to understand that it was not about me. And that thought settled in....deeply. It isn't about me.
i learned it was about what I give back. That, I've learned, is the real key. It isn't about getting things -- recognition, money, etc. -- it's about what we give back. What we give back nourishes what's inside us. And allows us to grow.....and change.....and keep grasping at hope.
i wish I could say I fell into a relationship and everything was fine and I'm wonderful. But I can't. Life is never that simple. More about that later. And I'm definitely not wonderful. I'm not done. There's work I need to keep doing.