Photo - the grotto at my undergrad alma mater

I'm not Catholic anymore, and haven't been for a really long time, butI still find the image of the crucifix to be strikingly dramatic. It doesn't move me like it used to. I just find it artistically and aesthetically appealing.

This is a close-up detail photo of the Rosary draped around the hands of the statue of Mary that's the main focus of the grotto on the grounds of my alma mater, Dominican University in River Forest, IL.

Next to the grotto was a major makeout place, a hill in a secluded part of campus that was the destination of many canoodling couples. My first date with my first boyfriend ended up there, but I didn't get so much as a kiss. Instead, we lay on the grass looking up at the sky, while I couldn't help wondering if he'd ever roll over and lay one on me, already. I was all dressed up and everything, dammit!

Such a fool that one was. He didn't. At least on that occasion. It's still a nice memory, though. One of the only pleasant times I had with the one I not only let get away, but threw away with great force. A very wise move, as it turned out.

The grotto was never so much a religious spot for me as it was a contemplative one. I walked out there when there was something bothering me, when I had a heavy burden on my mind and needed a little alone time to think things through.

It was tranquil there, and it still is.

I was the only one there this morning, just after dawn when I walked around the campus. The ground was still muddy from winter, and a couple piles of snow still lay on the ground, but the tranquility was, for lack of a better term, heavenly.

In spring they plant flowers by the grotto, filling the space with color. Now it's uniform grey and brown, dull as the end of winter always is.

But it's still a beautiful place, a place of peace and tranquility.

Hangin' in

" The horizon leans forward, offering you space to place new steps of change."

- Maya Angelou


A thought occurred to me today. They tend to do that sometimes. I realized I've been saying "hang in there" to a lot of people lately, friends or acquaintances having difficulties with a wide variety of things, dragging them down. It's my form of counseling, my attempt to enforce my hope the person will find strength when he or she needs it, so they can cope with difficult times. It's a catch-all phrase most of us use from time to time, a sort of shoring up, letting the person know we care.

A lot of life is made up of hanging in there, basically waiting out tough times and hoping better things are right around the corner. Much like the time we spend waiting, whether in line or at the doctor's office, whatever, this "hanging in there" time is a sort of dead time, a time of suspension.

It also occurred to me, what a waste this time can be. It's stagnant and unmoving as we resort to some sort of primal hibernation instinct, a self-protecting reflex designed to prevent us from any more harm while we work out what's first and foremost on our minds.

What I do when I'm faced with a big life challenge like this is journal about it. I like to look at things from a variety of perspectives, taking the different sides of myself into account and commenting to my core, my "higher self" as it's so commonly called, talking things out until I feel I have a better idea what's going on. Often when you really dig into things solutions will occur to you, or sometimes just temporary patches that will make things feel a little better and allow you to move on.

We all have those dead times in our lives, whole weeks and months, sometimes years when we're static, making little or no forward progress whatsoever. The evil in that is it's time you can't get back, no matter how much you may wish it. We know the best thing to do is to get unstuck and move forward, but that's so much easier said than done. For the time that is gone, that we can't get back, the important thing is to figure out the lesson and move forward as positively as you can. But while you're stuck, it's equally important to work hard to dislodge yourself, moving out of the rut as best you can and as quickly as possible.

Maybe I should change my "hang in there" phrase to something more like, "write on!" or "talk it through." It occurs to me now that telling someone to essentially stay in place, hoping life will step in and move them forward may not be the best idea after all. Getting them unstuck is much more crucial, helping them through the rough patch until they can find a new grip on things.

Funny how sometimes the most common, everyday things we say suddenly become epiphanies when we really stop to think about them. That's another step toward the goal of the life that's lived, rather than the life spent waiting around for something to happen. And I'm not some guru, not some perfect person (ask my husband, he'll tell you...), but I have found becoming more conscious of every little thing can lead to a whole lot of bigger ones.

So, don't necessarily just hang in there when life gets tough. That's my advice. Write it out, talk it out, think it through, whatever's your style. And keep moving forward.

Karma's whippin' girl

" I used to think anyone doing anything weird was weird. Now I know that it is the people that call others weird that are weird. "

- Paul McCartney


" Huh?"

- Lisa Guidarini


In case you aren't getting the drift, I'm a person to whom things just tend to happen. There's something about me that attracts weird and wild things and people, totally against my will. That's always been the case. People on the fringes of society, for example, are attracted to me like it's a magnetic force beyond their power to resist. If you observed it from above, as an apparently sado-masochistic supreme being very possibly does (and I am his/her favorite form of entertainment, obviously), you'd see that when I pass through a crowd, any crowd, all the yahoos gravitate toward me. I can't be angry with them. They can't help it. But it's getting annoying as all hell.

It's not just that, either. Gravity is stronger around me. Compare my frequency of dropping things to the average and you'll see what I mean. Embarrassment happens to me more often, and Murphy's Law? Written for me. Totally for me.

I'm really a fairly unassuming person. I don't go out of my way to attract notice, and in fact I pretty well shun it. Yeah, okay, not online. Online I'm a big publicity hoor. I jump up and down and wave my arms, I fearlessly approach big name authors, I leave no chance untaken. But in real life? Wallflower, baby. Wallflower. You'd so not approach me to ask to sign my dance card at a party. I'd open my mouth and shoot out fire at you, or hypnotize you with eyes that pop out of my head and swirl around and around, transfixing you until you forget what you were going to ask in the first place. Needless to say, I'm a big hit at parties.

So, why exactly it is that action of the most dramatic nature seeks me out I don't know. And I may be just a really big crybaby here. Wah, wah, poor ME. But I could get some sworn affadavits from several people attesting to the fact stuff does happen to me, and it's vastly out of proportion to stuff that happens to other people. It's been verified, people! Verified! And it's making me really tired. Really tired.

I need a vacation. Or maybe even a short retreat. It's been a long, long year, one I wrote masses of pages about, trying to figure at least some of it out. I sat down with my primary journal for a while last night, paging through it looking for insight. Frankly, it reads like something a crack whore would have written while on a roller coaster, while also having a really bad trip. And then the roller coaster car flies off the track and through the air, skimming over the carnival, skipping across the tops of the tents. Meanwhile the crack whore is alternately laughing and gripping the safety bar, white-knuckled. That pretty well describes it.

From entry to entry nothing stays consistent. Well, nothing but my whining. Much like the constant tinnitus I suffer from, the tinnitus that would drive me mad in a totally quiet room, the background refrain of my journal sounds like the noise a mosquito makes when it buzzes your ear in the middle of the night. ANNOYING.

That's not to say none of my points are valid. They are, but it's so obvious I couldn't make up my mind on a goddamn thing. One day it's one thing, the next it's the total opposite. That's what you call a confusing time. And in the midst of it, THE OTHER, the controlling friend who maybe wasn't such a great friend. The great chimera, the force that nearly destroyed me. And I totally bought into it, like I was born yesterday. Idiot.

So now I'm left thinking am I the one attracting all this chaos without realizing I'm doing it? Or are there outside forces fucking with me, just for the sheer entertainment of it all. If so, that's so not nice, and it's one of the very biggest reasons I have such a problem with all of this higher power stuff. Bad things happening to good people (and I don't just mean me here), horrible things and not just annoyances, while nasty people glide along through life. Why?

Just one of the many things I grapple with on a daily basis. Or, well, sometimes just weekly. I keep pretty well occupied. But this one's a biggie. A veritable hugie. It's one I can't find an answer for, at least not one that satisfies or even satisfices. Some things I can content myself with just not knowing. I don't have a problem with open-ended questions. Things like the Universe, that I can deal with (though it freaks the hell out of my kids). But this one? This one I just don't get. I don't know why it all has to be such a challenge. Why it's all so hard, more so for some than others. Why do so many bad things happen to people who've already been loaded down with crap?

Why?

If anyone can "riddle me this" I'd be so appreciative.

Toxic Shock

"Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength."

- August Wilson (1945-2005)

There are people on this earth who, no matter how much credit you try to give them, constantly disappoint. But not only do they disappoint, they also have the destructive potential to wreak havoc on your life, and cause grave harm and hurt to you and others you care about.

Naturally, we'd love to give people the benefit of the doubt in every instance. Most people would like to think the best of others. I think that's so. But much life experience has taught me otherwise. Not everyone is good. So many are selfish, deceptive and awful no matter how much we'd like to think well of them. Some people are simply toxic to the soul.

In some cases it may be that it's a certain combination of individuals that makes the toxicity, that there's something about the mixture of the two that turns corrosive, no matter how hard they may try to get along. Separately the two are fine and good but together the mixture is awful. Or it could be that one of the individuals is just a genuinely bad person. It can be hard to discern the difference when you're in the midst of it all; it's only afterward that you can look back coolly and rationally and see how it really was.

There come times in all our lives we find we have to break from people who have the capacity to destroy us, from these toxic people who would be ruinous to our lives if we let them be. Especially those of us with a self-destructive impulse, we have to be even more vigilant because it isn't in our nature not to be self-shielding. It's much more dangerous in cases like this, and much more crucial to break the cycle. And it's better not to go this alone, without help from caring people who honestly have our best interests at heart. Discerning who these good people are can sometimes be a challenge, but they are out there.

I had to break from a toxic person recently, from someone who seemed intent on destroying me through a series of manipulations I didn't even see as manipulative for so long it's almost embarrassing. I have my share of blame, too. I'm not saying I don't. Nothing is ever just one person's doing, but it's usually one person who has to stand up and say ENOUGH. This has gone on too long. It's been a difficult and emotionally draining thing, but with every day that goes by I feel that much stronger, more certain I've taken the right action.

Life has so many rites of passage, some we know to expect and others, like this, that are unpleasantly unexpected bumps in the road. Like everything that happens to us, the important thing to take away is how you'll use the experience going into the future. What's past is past. You can't change any of that, no matter how much wishing and wanting you do. All you can do is look at what positives you can draw, and how you can use the experience to go forward with your life.

The positives won't always be obvious. Sometimes you'll have to dig for them, but they'll always be there in some form. At times the only positive you'll find is the added wisdom the event gave you, the lesson being the lesson in itself. Though it's tough, that may be the only take-away grace from a really bad experience.

But in any event, grace it is.

As disorganized with this as I am with everything

Is it just me, or do other people think they're way too disorganized in every aspect of life? Even here, with my spiritual quest, I find myself thinking, "You know, you should have this outlined. There must be a logical way for you to progress through this. Maybe there's a book on that."

Yeah, and maybe there's a book on life that I've missed out on, one that explains everything in plain language. One I'll find in my dreams. You know those dreams. You're walking around your house, only it isn't your house, and you discover there's an extra room, or rooms, you never knew existed before. And you marvel, thinking, "Damn! I could really put a lot of crap in these rooms!" Somewhere in that dreamworld room is the book holding the key to life, the Universe and everything. The only problem is when I reach for it in my dreams it turns into a spider monkey. It bites me and runs away, just before I realize I'm not wearing pants, and the room becomes a classroom, and it's the final exam....

So, maybe it is a little anal to think I should find a logical way to progress through this or any aspect of my life. If we'd been handed outlines when we were born I think a lot of us would have committed suicide by now. You want me to WHAT, when I'm HOW OLD?! Screw that. I'm outta here.

Those of us afflicted with monkey mind are always a little paranoid we're not organizing things effectively. Usually we're right. That's the kicker. A small voice inside our primate-infested minds tells us to slow down, take a breath, write out an agenda. Look at things logically and plan. It'll make life so much smoother. Meanwhile our minds are saying, "Chocolate! Bookstore! Cute guy wearing glasses! Did I take my meds this morning? Damn, I didn't! Or did I? I want turkey for lunch!"

It's hopeless. Just hopeless.

This Sunday is Week 3 of the UUC spiritual quest. To be honest, I don't remember what we're working on for next week, but that's okay. I barely remember an hour ago. Hell, five minutes ago. I'm sitting here with 12 windows open on my computer, which is a relatively small number for me at any given time. I've been to a gazillion websites in the past two hours, looking for a gazillion things. And you want me to remember what I'm doing next week?!

Oh, sorry. That was me, not you. I lose track sometimes.

I guess I'm coming along on THE QUEST. Improvements are being made in the form of having just a touch more insight into my monkey mind and all the attendant truths I may or may not believe in. Progress appears to be a really slow thing. I guess there are no quick fixes. That totally sucks ass.

One thing's for sure. I got a lot out of the whole Anne Lamott experience, listening to two of her books on CD within the past couple of weeks. I learned it's okay to be royally messed up, that we pretty much all are, and that it's more okay than we think. In the big scheme of things we really do matter so little, and most things are little things.

I was trying to decide which Anne Lamott quote is my favorite, but it's kind of tough considering I didn't read the physical books so I didn't get to write anything down. I'll probably read the books sometime, but for now the quote I'll pick came from near the end of Grace (Eventually). It was:

"You can get the monkey off your back, but the circus never completely leaves town."

Ain't that the truth?

I'll leave you to ponder that one while I go off to open another dozen windows. So the monkeys can climb out.

Un-freaking-believable: A rant

"Mothers of teenagers know why animals eat their young."

- Unknown, but could be anyone...


I am raising a monster, or, if not exactly a monster, at the least a selfish, fire-breathing beastie who seems pretty certain she's at the dead center of the universe. In other words, a fourteen-year-old daughter.

Conversation last night at the dinner table turned to the fact I'm gone a lot lately, since I'm in grad school and also I'm working part-time. I have a lot going on, especially through May when the semester ends. After that I won't have to commute to school. Everything after this semester will be online. But for now, yeah. I am gone an awful lot.

So my daughter tells me I'm ruining her life by having my own life. For a dozen years I was a stay at home mom. I went back to work in late 2005, once the kids were all in school all day. I started grad school last year, knowing it would be rough fitting everything in. The least I expected was a little support from the family. From my daughter I'm getting nothing but grief.

I have to remember she is a teenager, and teenagers consider nothing in the world to be as important as their interests. Like toddlers they're selfish and demanding, only now they have the added benefit of a full vocabulary. An annoyingly full vocabulary. Kind of makes me long for the days she'd just throw herself on the floor screaming. At least then I could put her in her crib and close the door. Now I can't lift her, but if I could I'd gladly try to lock her away SOMEWHERE, ANYWHERE if I could.

The thing is, I don't see how she's gotten this way. By insisting on my own life and career(s) I thought I'd be setting a good example for the kids, showing them life doesn't end when you're a parent. Parents are people, dammit! We have lives, too, and they're just as important to us as theirs are to them. I'm asserting myself, getting back out into the world, finding my niche. And my daughter? All she does is whine about how UNFAIR it all is.

The girl's already in activities like you wouldn't believe. She's in chorus, show choir, regular orchestra, chamber orchestra, fiddle club, dance and she has a part in her school musical. I drive her to school early some mornings, pick her up late some nights, take her to dance, wait for her, take her home... And that's not counting all the extra trips, the other places she needs to be driven. Her complaint? She can't do every single thing she wants to do, partly because I now have a life.

Ah, poor child. That's life.

Sorry, had to vent today. It's a little frustrating sometimes, you know? Grrrrrrrrrr.

A certain slant of light

" There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons That oppresses, like the Heft of Cathedral Tunes. "

- Emily Dickinson


Dear god, I am so sick of winter. We had more snow last night, less than predicted but still. Snow.

I've never been this impatient for spring. By late winter I'm usually ready for a little warmth but I was ready far earlier than that. In fact, since, oh, around January 2 I've been impatiently waiting for the snow to melt away and the daffodils to start popping up in my garden. Needless to say, that hasn't happened yet.

It's hard to recall a time there wasn't a blanket of snow on the ground. It is better now that it's covered by fresh snowfall, because the look was getting ugly before that. Dirty snow is one of the ugliest looks. Mother Nature so doesn't look good in that. But now, with the fresh powder, it's better. Well, better in a HURRY UP AND MELT ALREADY! way.

Last fall I thought to myself the winter season will be good; I'll be sure to stay inside more and I'll get my homework done. There's not so much temptation to get out and take photos in winter, at least once you've taken a thousand pictures featuring the white theme. But now? The novelty of cold and snow has totally worn off.

Totally.

I'm trying to see a positive to this winter. So far no luck. It's been snow storm after snow storm. While snow days are good things, unexpected bonus days that they are, even that's not really much incentive anymore. I'm getting stir-crazy. I want to get out of the house without having to bundle up in layers upon layers. My new leather coat, the one that's more fashionable than the old one (with the fur trim on the hood, which the dog decided she needed to kill) isn't warm enough. And yeah, that's my own fault, I could wear another layer under it, blah blah blah.

BUT I DON'T WANT TO!

I want warmth, or at least regular sun to melt off the snow and bring out some green already. The snow does really oppress. Or maybe it's the cold outside that keeps us all clinging indoors, wrapped up in blankets. It drags on too long, and seems like it'll never loosen its grip. It's a lot like the Republican party that way.

What I need to do is take a deep breath and just acknowledge no amount of whining and foot stomping are going to make winter end any earlier. I'm looking at probably another couple weeks or more of just this snow that's on the ground now. Maybe a little longer. The potential's still there for more of it, too. And as for cold, I won't see 70 degrees for another month. Or two.

March is an uncertain month. April, too. Cold and rain aren't strangers to them. We can't even plant flowers 'til after mid-May here. That's when the danger of frost is most likely past. But even that's not a guarantee.

But there must be a positive about this, some way to look at it so it's not so dreary, so unbearable. Homework I have aplenty, and other reading, too. I have enough to keep me busy, that's not the issue. It's warmth and budding new life I'm looking for.

Maybe I'll stop by Trader Joe's and pick up a bunch of tulips or two today, after work. Tulips are one of the first heralds of spring. Even if I won't be seeing them in my garden anytime soon I can at least see them in a vase.

I'll do that.

As Anne Lamott said:

"You reap exactly what you sow, that is, you cannot grow tulips from zucchini seeds."

Amen to that.