Pre-dawn epiphany

It's 4:34 a.m., and I just stepped out of the shower. I don't know if this heralds the end or the beginning of the day. Whether I'll drift off to sleep with my body as clean, pure and well tended as my soul should be or I've merely braced myself for what lies ahead is still up in the air. It may sound peculiar, this moment is palpably enjoyable. I have something to look forward to whatever happens. Sleep means a rabbit hole world of symbolism and magic. The day to come holds activities and people I'll enjoy.

I know this is sleep deprivation because I'm almost giddy, but anticipation is a wonderful thing. That I have things to anticipate is possibly the biggest and definitely the most positive change in my life lately. I know things are actually going to happen. I can count on them. I've worked to make things happen. Granted, they're little things, but accomplishing little things is restoring my confidence in my ability to achieve bigger things.

I want to remember this feeling when I haven't been up for over 40 hours -- to hold onto this moment when regardless of what might happen, I know it's going to be good. It's almost worth going without the sleep.

Scattered

My mind has been a masterpiece of distraction for days. I've had thousands of ideas but haven't had the focus to develop any of them. I've taken to jotting down phrases and images in a notebook, just hoping I can develop them later. If I had a therapist to show this too, we could have months worth of discussions or I might end up in a hospital. (Specially since I've been re-working a violent episode for the book in progress that was set aside last year.)

The distraction has shown itself beyond just my mind. I flit from one task to the next, completing some, getting others to the good enough for now stage. I've been trying to just be more active, to bring all the unseen mental activity into my tangible world. The goal is to become more purposeful and to really build the kind of life that I want and enjoy, but right now, it looks more like impulse and whim. There really are goals behind what I'm doing, but I'm working in short spells. From my inner critical observer point of view, I look undisciplined and lazy. I keep telling that bitch part of me to just shut up and be patient.

My week has been filled with little surprises; pleasant (and awkward) like a date with the father-in-law of a co-worker, unpleasant like an attack of heat stress, and weird like finding out I've had a hunk of windshield glass embedded in my elbow for over a decade and it working its way to the surface. Another pleasant surprise is that I've continued to meet the same group of women for a weekly lunch, and it looks like we might start a book club, something I've wanted to do for years. We're also talking about going to a wine tasting at a nearby vineyard, something else I've wanted to do for a long time. I admit my dreams were more Napa Valley than west Tennessee, but this is a good step in transforming a dream into a reality.

I've always been this hybrid of purposeful worker bee and otherworldly daydreamer. When the structure I had for years disappeared with my husband's death and daughter going to college, I let my interior life just take over. I over thought and over felt everything and let it paralyze me. I haven't replaced the old structure with anything new, but this wafting from activity to activity suits me now. I'm no longer huddled, emotionally devastated, in the not so comfy chair, and the day is coming when thoughts and dreams will merge with goals, purpose and structure. I'm recognizing a change while it's happening instead of afterwards. That feels good.

Birthday Eve

On weekends I work retail. From Friday to Sunday, I'm almost constantly smiling and talking. If I'm not face to face with a customer, I'm on the phone and still smiling because that affects the tone of your voice. When I'm not working with the public, I'm cleaning. A shop that features white gowns, crystal tiaras, cabinets of glass and solid walls of mirrors has got to sparkle. I'm good at this. I make young brides feel hopeful, their mothers a little less stressed, and goodness knows, I know how to clean.

Come Monday though, I'm in need of a different pace. Time away from people with no need to smile or charm is what this day demands. Even when I was working outside sales, after a few days of heavy prospecting, I'd plan the following day for planning, organizing and written followup. A natural introvert, no matter how good I am at working with people, it's an expense of energy, and staying on top of my game means that I must recharge with time alone.

This was that day. I filled my brain with an easy reading mystery that I'm just not quite into yet and TV reruns from Hulu. My house doesn't have to sparkle today, and I successfully ignored that inner voice prompting me to scrub and polish. There will be time enough for that later.

Tomorrow, I turn 49. Most days, I neither look nor feel it, but it's absolutely undeniable that my forties are drawing to a close. Other than grasping the statistical probability that I'm entering the last third of my life, I really don't mind that much. The forties in some way have been the most challenging decade of my life. They've been marked by the illnesses and deaths of too many people I love. Other than a few bouts of pneumonia, my knee blowing out and the ongoing depression management, I've been basically healthy myself, but I've felt like I lived in the eye of a storm. There is a cost to watching people you love suffer, and it has changed me. I'm still figuring out what all those changes are.

Tonight, I'm observing one year of my life come to its end and another begin. Coincidentally, it's also the night of the dark of the moon, the beginning of another lunar cycle. The part of me that always seeks the positive in everything tells me to embrace this beginning.

In many ways, I'm freer than I ever have been. I no longer have to weigh every decision in terms of how it affects family. I'm getting used to making decisions just for me, and I think I like it. With the changes in the economy and the change in my age, I'm also free from feeling like I have to stay in the sales oriented career I had for so long. Everyone is adapting to a very different market place. I'm just being trendy. After the aforementioned illnesses and economic changes, I'm also free from such things like savings, investments and retirement funds. Kris Kristofferson knew a thing or two when he wrote that freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose.

What I haven't lost, in fact, what I've gained in my forties has been a sense of my own strength and worth. I quit defining myself by what I do for a living. My personal value is the same regardless of the job I hold. That's been a real gift. I know that I can keep going through very hard times and come out with my sense of perspective, sense of humor and inner peace relatively intact. I've learned that a lot of things that I used to think were my responsibility actually fall into someone else's lap.

This time last year, I was reeling from the loss of my husband, going through multiple tests to find if I had a life altering chronic illness, my daughter graduating from high school a year early and losing my job. I look back now at what happened in a two month period, and I'm not surprised that I went maybe more than a little nuts this last year. But I came through it. I've joked that birthdays at my age are survival awards. This year, it's true, and I'm actually rather proud of myself. That's a good way to begin the next year of my life.

Midsummer night, what shall I dream?

I am that merry wanderer of the night. -- Puck, in A Mid-Summer Night's Dream

This is the summer solstice, the traditional beginning of summer and the day of the year with more hours of sunshine than any other. Officially this is the day that the sun reaches its northern most point in relation to the earth -- officially 23.44 degrees north in the tropic of Cancer. From here on out, the days start to get a little shorter. It's definitely a day of transition.

Science aside, the solstices have always been recognized as days to be noticed. Stonehenge, Calendar One in Vermont and the Bighorn Medicine Wheel in Wyoming all are aligned with the rising of the sun on the summer solstice. In some Pagan traditions, this is the day when the Holly King battles the Oak King and takes reign for the rest of the year. Some Goddess worshippers honor their deity now as a pregnant mother, bearing the life that will come to fruition later on and her consort at the height of his masculine strength and beauty. Some ancient Celtic Midsummer festivals involved maidens bathing in rivers so rain would come later on. Hopi males would dress as kachinas, dancing spirits of rain and fertility who served as messengers between men and the gods. Romans held festivals in honor of Juno, the goddess over marriage and Vesta, the goddess of hearth and therefore home. Other traditions focused on fire, including serving foods the color of fire and jumping over bonfires.

The lore around midsummer is vast. Herbs picked today are supposed to be at their most potent. Walking or bathing in the dew of midsummer night is supposed to insure lasting beauty and fertility. Shakespeare knew that elves and fairies were supposed to be wandering freely tonight. This is both historically and superstitiously a time for lovers. Love and fertility spells are supposed to be at their most powerful tonight.


June is still the month for weddings. Some say it began because crops had been planted but didn't yet need harvesting, so there was more time for weddings. Looking at Pagan traditions again, the Goddess and her Consort were supposed to have been married on Beltane or May Day, and humans could then follow with their own weddings. The full moon in June is called the Honey Moon because this is peak honey harvesting time.

Back into modern life and away from myths, traditions and superstitions, ironically, this is the slow season for bridal boutiques, like the one where I work. The dresses for all these June weddings were purchased months ago. I'm celebrating the solstice by staying in the air conditioning. When I was driving home from work in my car with the broken air conditioning compressor, the heat index (the temperature you actually feel for those in areas not affected by high humidity) was 106 degrees.

I watched a glorious sunset about an hour ago, and now lightning bugs (fireflies for non-southerners) are dancing outside my windows. However, I do have three candle holders with the face of the sun in my dining room. In each of them is burning a little green candle that's supposed to smell of cucumber and mint, two of my favorite summer smells. I'm also drinking a Bloody Mary with extra Tabasco, definitely fiery. When the last sip is gone, I think I'll take a little walk in the fallow field behind my house. I'll be on the lookout for any fairy rings.

Changes

Early this morning, I realized that I'd crossed a major threshold. Yesterday would have been my 23rd wedding anniversary, and I didn't think about it until I went to bed. I wasn't trying not to think about it. It just didn't occur to me until late in the day, and then it was with a sweet wistfulness. This evening, I went to the cemetery to make sure that the flowers hadn't been blown away by the storms from earlier this week. They were still there, and I noticed how much grass had grown on R.'s grave. For the first time, I didn't cry when I was there. Granted, I felt the tears building up, but there wasn't the undeniable demand for them to be released.

Things have definitely changed. I'm finally accepting this new phase of my life. I'm not quite into enjoying it, but I can see possibilities as well as memories. One of my favorite lines of poetry is from Mary Oliver's Summer Day.

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life? "

I really have no clue what my plans will be, but I am beginning to see my life as precious again. I think I might have a clue about what the wildness could be. It wouldn't be the excess, recklessness and daring of my youth. Those days are happily past. When I read those words, I think of the wildness of an untamed animal, whether it's rabbit or lion. I think of the power of this humid summer night lying on my skin like damp silk. I think of the freedom of a bird in flight or the wind in the trees. I think of what is natural within me, what is truly me, with all the layers of over thinking and over socialization stripped away. A glimpse of that every now and then sustains me now, but I can believe the day may come when I'm just living it.

Candy coated memories, and they're not all sweet

When I was a kid, the only times that candy was allowed in our home were Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving. At Christmas, my mother made the candy. The divinity was the purest of white and had a a softly crusty surface that yielded to an interior that just seemed to dissolve in a mouthful of sweet bliss. Her divinity had the same effect on me that Scooby snacks had on my favorite cartoon dog. Her fudge was heavy and creamy. Two pieces were enough to teach this budding chocoholic the meaning of too rich. The bourbon balls I never cared for until I was older. To tell the truth, mixing paraffin into food turned me off more than the taste of the bourbon. I couldn't get over eating wax.

That is, until Halloween came around and candy wax vampire fangs were a standard 60s treat in my neighborhood. I loved those things. The good ones dripped red when you got down to the fangs. (I've had a vampire fascination going on since before I read Dracula.) The best part of Halloween for me was sorting out the loot after I got home. I was one of those kids that had to rank their candy. At the top of the heap were full sized candy bars, rare even when I was a kid. Next came the mini chocolate bars. I had a particular fondness for Three Musketeers. Candy Corn and Smarties were somewhere in the middle. At the absolute bottom of the heap were those chewy peanut butter things wrapped in orange or black paper. The paper never fully came off and they didn't really taste like peanut putter. Plus they took forever to chew and stuck to cavities. When all I had left was the peanut butter, it was almost time for Thanksgiving and pies, so I didn't mind throwing them away. Now, on Halloween, I only give away the mini chocolate bars to honor the kid I once was.

Easter was jelly bean heaven. The red and purple ones were my favorites. Orange came next. Black was at the bottom of the heap. I've never gotten the appeal of licorice. Black just isn't a good color for foods, unless you can get some black truffles, the earthy fungus kind, not the chocolate ganache kind.

As soon as I could earn money of my own, being able to buy a candy bar was a thrill. That's a problem with making candy or sweets associated only with fun or special occasions. The presence of candy can then make any occasion special. Rough day? Here, have a Snickers and have a little fun. You deserve it. Let it make up for whatever slough you had to crawl through today. It essentially transfers emotions to foods, where they simply do not belong.

A healthy diet gives the body food it needs to satisfy nutritional needs, provide the body with sufficient energy and just as importantly, provide the body with pleasure. With a lifetime of obesity and yo-yo dieting behind me, candy is more than just an occasional treat for me. It's an issue and a sore spot. At times, it's been something I've regarded with fear. Other times, it's been the visual symbol of what I though were my failings.

Every time I ate a piece of candy as a child, I heard that if I simply had the willpower to leave it alone, I could have a better life. Not only that, if I chose to eat candy, it meant that I would never have what other people consider a normal life -- friends, boyfriends, any kind of social life, cute clothes, decent jobs. As an adult, I've heard that I wouldn't be treated rudely, be ignored, earn less money, be charged more for clothing and travel, have things thrown and shouted at me or even be regarded as less than normal if I wouldn't just stuff my fat face with sweets.

There's a problem with that. I lost 135 pounds with a diet that included candy and other sweet treats. To lose the weight, I had to learn that food was just food, and that deriving pleasure from eating was just fine. In fact, it was excellent. When I learned to take the emotional weight off certain foods, they became foods I could enjoy every now and then. I didn't require food to have special events or pleasure in my life. When I could quit demonizing sweets, I could take the time to savor them and know my body well enough to know when enough was enough. For me, it took a diet, specifically the right diet for me, to learn this. For other people, any diet has just the opposite effect.

It's a difficult line to tread. I'm working out the answers for myself with every meal, every snack and every drink. I've had to learn what should make up the biggest part the food that I eat and what I only really want and need every now and then. That can change almost daily if I really listen to my body. It requires a lot of attention, and I'm not going to pretend that I have the answers for everyone.

There's one thing I'm absolutely sure of though. If you want your kid to have food issues, weight problems (whether it's not enough or too much) and body image issues that last long past childhood, put them on a diet. Make your child's body proportions the most important thing in their life. Demonize all sweets and fun foods. Make them so taboo, they become the most desired thing in your kids' world. Personally, I'd rather just let a candy bar be a candy bar.

This entry was written for Women On and has been cross posted here.

The Friday Five

1. Grocery shopping--love it or hate it?
I am a grocer's daughter. When I was a kid, going to the grocery store, seeing my dad at work, how his customers and employees liked and respected him was a real pleasure. I was probably the only kid around who had to dress up to go to the grocery store, but I didn't mind. When I was a young adult and would just drop in on my dad at work, he always enjoyed it and took a few minutes for me no matter how busy he was. Then I grew up and grocery shopping became a chore. When my daughter developed her eating disorder (now other than body image issues inert), it became a nightmare. In the last year, I've had to relearn how to cook for one again, and grocery shopping has become more pleasurable again. It's almost me time, thinking about the things I'd like to cook and enjoying anticipating a good meal.

2. Who is the primary food shopper in your household?
Household of one person and 7 animals. Until they learn to drive and use the debit card, it's me.

3. Do you have a beloved store like TJ's which is unique to your location or family?
I simply adore Latham's in Jackson, TN, the best real butcher shop in the area, not to mention absolutely wonderful barbecue and a wonderful daily lunch buffet. Hmmm, I'm thinking ribs now.

4. How about a farmer's market, or CSA share, as we move into summer? Or do you grow your own fruits/veggies/herbs?
I would love to find a CSA group around here, but so far no luck. We do have an abundance of vegetable stands and a farm right on the edge of town that sells strawberries in the spring and early summer and pumpkins, gourds, hay bales and corn stalks in the fall. The strawberries they sell at a large stand, but the pumpkins are displayed in the front yard, and there's even an honor system payment box if no one is there to help you. I've lived here 10 years, and this town has been a part of my life for over 25 years, and that honor system has held up all this time. That's one of the really great things about living in a small town.

5. What's the favorite thing you buy at the grocery store?
Buying fresh produce always makes me feel good.

Set up

The womanchild's car has been in the shop for nearly a week, and this has given me the opportunity to spend some time with her. I know that the need for a free taxi has been her main motivation. Even though, I've run through the gas, I decided to enjoy the time. She's getting ready to move to another city in just a little over a month, and the preparations have begun. She's arranged for a transfer with her job, has her college paperwork in order and is packing up her belongings. Sorting books and DVDs has created an ongoing dialogue about who gets what.

What's struck me as really interesting is that she's bringing her friends, the kids who'll still be in the area (the ones who already call me mom), and me together almost daily. It's almost like she's trying to set up parenting opportunities for me since she won't be around to provide them. "You know, mom, B. and C. will be glad to help you with some chores, don't you? And you really ought to call R. sometime. She just enjoys talking with you." Sweet kids, sweet daughter. She's even told me that she wants me to start dating and would pay half an E-Harmony membership. Thank goodness, she's not trying to set me up with dates.

Muddling through science, art, religion and belief

I just read an interesting article about sea life and volcanoes. Animals like shrimp and crabs are adapting to live in an environment that's more acidic than a stomach. Behaviors and bodies are changing, and new species are actually being found. We're actually seeing evolution in action, and it's fascinating and beautiful.

The schism between evolution and certain groups of Christians has always fascinated me. I cannot look at the world around me without seeing evidence of both a divine Creator and evolution. Not seeing the change in species (just look at the average height of man over the centuries) requires a blind eye, a stubborn unwillingness to accept what is before us. Not only does it take a literal belief in the Biblical account of creation, but it seems to demand that God stopped working in the natural world at that point. That seems like limiting God to only what is in the Bible, and I believe that God is greater than the book. I don't understand why we can accept that God is still working within us, but not get that God can still be working in the rest of the world as well. We may be a species that has been gifted with the language to describe what is happening in the world around and within us, but we are still just one more element in a vast world. If God can care about us, God can care about the sparrow or the volcano dwelling shrimp.

The question of God is a bit trickier. For a believer, evidence is both everywhere and not required. For the nonbeliever, my assurance is their circumstantial evidence. If it can't be pinned down, it just can't be. Some people live well with mystery, and others can't. That's just a sign to me of the beauty and diversity of man and of the free will we possess. I believe in a God who values a love and a worship that is freely given by choice, instead of requiring it by making it a very part of our systems.

We have the ability to choose what we believe. Science, God or both. I see science, art and religion all about the search for truth, all aspiring to the same goal but taking different paths to get there. Personally, I think that truth, the big Truth, the answer to life, the universe and everything can only be found in God, outside of this limited world. Just as God is greater than any book, even spiritual books revered by God's followers, God is greater than any search for truth.

It doesn't take much to see how science has been flawed throughout time. You cannot search for truth and not make mistakes. That's part of the process. Any artist can tell you about the flaws in art. Is there a writer alive who hasn't read something that they've finished and later realized how they could have gotten at least some part of it better? Religion is not exempt from that process. In the vast scope of time, it hasn't been that long since institutionalized religion even admitted that over half of all humanity had souls. Neither science, art nor religion can hold all the answers, but an open mind should be able to see where all of these fields contribute to the search.

A sleepless night, a steak sandwich and what lies beneath

Last night was one of those nights where I just couldn't sleep. I wasn't fraught with worry. My mind wasn't moving so fast my body wouldn't slow down. Sleep just wouldn't come until after I watched this incredible, misty sunrise that both heightened and altered the reality of the woods and field across the street. My night ended with a sense of wonder at the presence of God in this world. It was truly a moment when I was aware of both holiness and the humility of humankind in a tremendous, mysterious, beautiful universe. Best of all, it was completely without the pretension of a wisdom I don't possess and full of a simple, innocent happiness. That's a wonderful state in which to fall asleep.

Sleepless nights have the price of a hurried morning. I'd promised a friend that I really would meet her, some acquaintances and friends of friends for a lunch. I've bailed on her so many times in my hermit days that it's truly embarrassing. I've wanted to honor this little commitment to her and the bigger commitment to myself that I would make a more concerted effort to be sociable and have more of a life outside my own head. I had to rush to get ready.

I knew my friend wouldn't care what I looked like. Goodness knows we've seen each other looking our absolute worst. However, this was a ladies lunch in a southern town where women wear waterproof makeup when they work out. Worse, it was "casual." When it comes to wardrobe, casual is my least favorite word. Is it designer outfit casual or blue jeans casual? The morning mist had become a steady rain, and I opted for my favorite jeans (the ones that make me look like I actually have an ass) and a light purple summer sweater. I added a silver necklace with a large moonstone and garnet pendant my friend had given me, some silver and unpolished ruby earrings, a silver watch in a Celtic knot pattern, and my mother's monogrammed bangle bracelet that looks like it was fashioned from old silverware, and a few rings. I was hoping the jewelry would make enough of a statement in case I was seriously under dressed.

The small group did run all the way from denim to silk, and after a few moment's hesitation, it didn't matter. The most elegant woman there and I ended up having a conversation that ranged from books to spiritual journeys (and the books we've both read along the way) to how we exercise our creativity and passions to gardening and housekeeping. When I first saw her, I was a little intimidated. As we got to know each other a bit, I realized that if I'd been in the mindset I was a few weeks ago, I would have have been even more intimidated. By the time lunch ended, we were both saying we were looking forward to getting to know each other better and acknowledging that in a way, we did already know each other.

That was another good moment. I knew I'd released some fears and anxieties. Though appearances are superficial concerns, they're still real fears of being judged and found wanting. I took the risk of really engaging myself instead of just relying on good manners, other people's interests, and a decent sense of humor to keep small talk going. I honored my commitment to my friend and to myself. Both my integrity and ability to succeed at something personally challenging were reinforced. A ladies lunch may not sound like much, but it showed me some positive things about myself.

On just a regular, rather dreary looking day, I drew closer to God, to other people and to myself. Now, at its end, I'm reminded of just how much is happening all of the time. It's actually been a rather significant day.

Checking in

It feels good to be able to get back on my computer again. The tech gods decided to blight me again, and my computer has been moving at the speed of January molasses for weeks. It hasn't just been my internet connection. My other software was affected as well. A few days in the shop, and it feels like I have a new computer, especially since I had to reassemble everything tonight

It's good for me to take a few days break from the computer every now and then. I've been productive around the house and yard, energetic at work, and actually socializing with people face to face. I've even been a little flirtatious. I'm loving it. Heck, I'm even having lunch with girlfriends tomorrow.

It hit me last night that what I've been feeling is a sense of well being. The same old boring stressors are there, but I'm feeling confident in my ability to handle them. I can ride out the rough times and eventually change them. I do a lot of positive talking to myself to keep going, but right now, I really believe it. I feel it in my gut. Remind me of this the next time I start whining.