Bikini Babe?

135

I've just come inside from trimming the rosemary bush next to my front door. I also tried to use the same hedge trimmer to trim the weeds around my fence - you know, the wrong tool for the job.

And I did this yard trimming... in my bikini top and shorts.

And my biggest concern was the short battery life on my little trimmer and how I don't have a rake to rake up the rosemary.

My neighbor came home on his bike - his name is Gary. He's a university professor who teaches early middle eastern literature. I enjoy our chats. We talked for a while about how I need a REAL weed trimmer and not some hedge trimmer that isn't designed for what I tried to force it to do. Gary and his wife have the most beautiful yard. They never say anything to me about how mine is, um, lacking in tidiness. We get along really well and it is one of the reasons I like where I live.

I do have pink flamingos in the front yard though, so there's that.

Yet, there I stood in my front yard in a bikini and not once did I think - OMG I'm in a bikini, he can't see me in a bikini I'm sooooo fat. Honestly, I'm a size 18 on a good day.

I didn't care. I've been wearing my bikini on the back porch to sunbathe and mow my back yard, but haven't ventured out into the front yard yet. I mean CARS drove by while I worked in the front yard. And I was in a bikini. And you know... I didn't really think about it. I just worked on my lawn.

I've come a long way from the fat girl ashamed of herself and her body. I know there are some larger women who are so angry and think things like,  "Screw you all if you don't like how I look." But that's not me. I'm not an angry person by nature. There are no demands on anyone - you don't have to like how I look in a bikini or you can like how I look in a bikini. That isn't really my issue anymore. Would I wear this to a public pool? I don't know, maybe. I don't particularly want to attract attention, nor do I want to avoid it. I kind of just want to weed my front yard and get some sun.

Here is a pic. Not a great pic because I have been working in my yard. But an unedited pic none-the-less.

I'm still a long way from being happy with how much I weigh - but no longer because I hate my body. More because there are so many things I want to do and my weight prevents me from doing them. So I keep on the journey. I've been stuck at the same weight for four months now. At least I haven't put more weight on and even though my weight hasn't changed my body has. So I don't get upset, I keep taking care of myself and eating well (or trying to) and exercising (more of that this summer for sure). 

I am done with having people in my life who spend their time telling me all my faults and how if I would just do 'this': lose weight, talk more, talk less, be more friendly, be less friendly, be more spiritual, be less spiritual, write more, write less, sing more, sing less, don't think so much, tell better stories, be more grateful, be more kind, be nice, be less messy, be more respectful, be less demanding, be less serious, be less self-absorbed and solipsistic (I actually had to look that word up when my ex called me that - thus the 'ex')... the list goes on and on. But always with the idea that if I would just follow these helpful suggestions, I would be more desirable. I'm done letting criticism push me down - it makes the work of being happy in my own skin so much harder. 

Criticism is the wrong tool for the job. Criticism, void of compassion, is empty and destructive. 

I don't need anyone to tell me how to be. I'm not perfect, however,  I'm desirable just the way I am.

I'm done having people in my life that reflect back to me my own critical nature. Lately, I'm spending time with people who are kind to me and at the same time honest when I ask for input. I have some events going on in my life that have made me nervous and anxious. And these people around me that appreciate and respect me say things to build my spirit, not tear it down. These people have changed me. They've helped me realize it's time for me to be kinder to myself. If that means wearing a bikini even though I am NOT the typical size of a woman that wears a bikini simply because I want to, so be it - they love me and cheer me on, because that's what people that care and respect you do.

I love who I am and how I am in this world. I love that I see the world as a beautiful place, even when the people here do some ugly things. I love how I treasure every moment I have here.

I love how I see the best in people - even when they don't see the best in themselves; it's high time I do the same for myself.

peace and love,

MaryKate

Those Weirdos are your Tribe!!

118

I learned this week, again, what family means. And what it doesn't mean. It was another hard lesson that I seem to continually draw into my life.

Michael J Fox once said,  "Family is not an important thing. It's everything."

I realized this week how true that is.

Family has very little to do with blood. Although in my case, I am incredibly fortunate to have such a wonderful and supportive sister and father and extended family. I am also amazed at what a tremendous daughter I have now in my life.

What I was reminded of this week, is that family is a space in your heart. It is feeling safe. It is feeling loved. It is fighting. It is knowing you can tell the truth - even if your truth is wrong - and be loved. It is knowing when things get difficult, you have someone who loves you and will stick with you. It is crying under the kitchen table and having your dad not know what to do - and having your mom say, "Just let her cry honey. There isn't anything you can do, but let her cry. She'll be okay."

I am so loved. And I can't believe every single day how big my family is. I move through my life trying to emulate what it is to love and as a result, the people I choose to have in my life love me - and if they don't? Then I guess it is better that those people get weeded out, however that happens.

Because in the end, my family are the people that stand by me. They are the people who work through the hard stuff. They are the people I come home to. And it isn't always easy. Families have fights. Families struggle. Families have financial difficulties and personality conflicts. My daughter once said about her brother, "I don't care if we sometimes don't get along, I got his back." And I think that is what it means to be a family.

And maybe family is a poor choice of words. Because there are many unhealthy families in the world. Many families who punish each other instead of supporting each other. Maybe, like the quote below, the best word is tribe:

And sometimes, people I think are part of my 'tribe' or my family, turn out not to be. They choose to leave. They choose to not want to work through the hard stuff. The complications. They don't think working through the challenge is worth it. And that is okay. I have had that same experience where I know working through the struggle isn't what is in the cards. Sometimes you have to make the difficult choice of walking away. It hurts and it is complicated but that is when those who do want to be part of your tribe become even more valuable.

I just know that for me, true family isn't about blood. It is about love. It is about honesty. It is about finding people that honor my heart and journey - and want to share their journey with me. It is about people who are as happy to be part of my life as I am happy to be part of theirs.

So, if you are part of my tribe -  and if you read my blog consider yourself part of my life - then thank you. And know I love you. And when you are done reading, remember to appreciate the people in your tribe. Call your partner,or mom or dad or best friend or sister or brother or son or daughter or niece or nephew or or or...

Because as I have been reminded again this week, there is nothing more valuable than family. Nothing. And there is nothing more valuable than telling the tribe you love, how much you love them.

Peace,

MaryKate

Come and Gone and Come...
98/100

It was good to be home for the three days I was there. My cat got over her stoney hello and purred happily, (until I left again), I got to connect with my support network there and I went to work to finish up a few things before I left for Ohio. I love my home. It is airy, and quiet. I get centered there. I am lucky to live where I do.

Mexico was amazing. My batteries were recharged and I regained my sense of delight and joy.

Ohio? Has been an adventure so far. The first day I arrived, C had just returned from the hospital. She was sick, unable to keep down food, everyone was in a state of chaos and I... quickly lost the centered feeling I had when I left to arrive here. I don't know why I didn't make the connection that C has been in the hospital for almost 2 months. She is weak, tired and on a lot of medication. Her personality is still as strong as ever, and as she gets better and better we have more and more conversations, but she is exhausted. And she is struggling to manage just the simple things. And I? Had no idea of the situation I was walking in to. I had no idea what it meant that she had two pulmonary embollisms in her lungs (two blood clots in her lungs). She's been in pain, she's recovering from hip surgery and the radiation is knocking her out. The main thing I find myself doing, is just loving her. Everything is secondary.

I have been accused of not liking it when things are unsettled. I've written a journal about it here, and my issues haven't really changed a whole lot. However, I am realizing that feeling uncomfortable also has to do with feeling like I have little or no control in my life. That is a big part of what is going on with me right now.

I feel so out of control. Each day I feel like I get my footing more solid, but it's solidly on beach sand. A wave comes, washes away the footprint and I start over again fresh. I am learning what she needs and what she doesn't need. I know better how to navigate her family. I know how to navigate her mom. I see how to connect with the kids and we have all been enjoying our time together. Her husband and I have had some time to reconnect as well.  I have all these plans in place. I have plans for my plans in case they don't work out. I have plans for my plans for my plans. I am a planning machine.

Yesterday, I was talking to my sister. I told her, I'd like to get a Yurt. I have wanted one for about 15 years; I think it would be a sanctuary in my life. I have been studying them, reading about them for ages. Anyhow, when I told my sister, she immediately started asking me about cost and practicality. I had to tell her to stop (which I don't do very often). One of the things that makes me who I am, is my need to dream. And when I dream? I tend to dream big. I need right now to dream about things that I feel are in my control. I want to be able to dream about having a yurt. I want to contemplate it. I want to design it. I want to think about how it will fit in the yard of my house and what it will take to build one. I want to have all kinds of dreams about it. For some, dreaming impractically must seem pointless. For me it is the best mental health exercise I know.

Sadly, for many of the people I love and have loved, my dreaming has ended up being a source of frustration. When I start to dream, I dream with passion. I dream with conviction. Even though it is just a dream and I know it might very well not happen, I have to have the space to explore it. I want to think I'll be able to do it. Like my big plans to go to India and Africa as a treat for myself when I turn 45. I plot and plan it all the time. Will I do it? Who knows, but I want to sit and dream about it and plan it.

And what I need when I am in that mode? Is for someone to dream with me, not tell me why I can't do it. And I think that is hard for the people I love. Because the devotion I exhibit is hard to deny. My enthusiasm is infectious. But then, when I change my mind, or move on to my next dream people get left behind. They get upset and angry. And I feel terrible. I don't know how to fix it when I move on to my next 'dream' and they are still left behind in my last dream. I often make my dreams happen, but I am generally not attached to how to make them happen. And sometimes I realize it is going to take some time for those dreams to happen. And I send them off to work while I move on in my mind to something else. But the people who are invested in my dreaming... they don't move on. And they get upset that I am not still on the bandwagon. Or worse they think THEY have to do something about my dream. They think THEY have to find the money to buy property on Orcas Island. Or a small summer home by the water or or or. My ex especially freaked out. To the point where he told me not to share that sort of thing with him anymore. I was absolutely crushed. If I can't share my dreams? What is the point? The person I love I want to be able to laugh and dream with.

I suppose it must make people think I am flakey and unreliable. I'm not. I'm at my bff's house helping her and her family. I am reliable. I can be counted on. But when I am in dream mode? I just want to be in dream mode... and what good is a dream if I can't share it? I try to take a certain responsibility for my dreams... But I know sometimes, they get away from me and become something else entirely.

This RV trip? Might be one of my dreams. It might not happen. C is really sick right now. I know if we had planned it for July? It for sure wouldn't happen. However, I am still enjoying dreaming about it. We keep talking about it. Madalyn has informed me she wants to go to the Wizard of Oz museum in Kansas. *grin* That made me smile. I have an alternate plan. If C can't go, I'm taking Madalyn and her brother with me and we're going to drive to Seattle on a different route. There will be some sort of a trip this summer. I have no idea what it will look like. But it will happen.

Maybe that is why I dream. Because dreaming brings things into life. Will my trip go the way I think it is going to go? Who knows. Do I particularly care? No. Because I know it will happen and we'll have a good time together, no matter how things emerge from our collective dreaming. We are all fluid right now, and as difficult is that generally is for me? I am learning to make peace with the uncomfortable feeling of dreaming on shifting sand.

Peace,

MaryKate

Dolphin Days 
97/100

I don't know how swimming with dolphins has anything to do with being healthy, as is the intent of this blog, but I'm going to chalk it up to mental health and go from there.

I swam with dolphins today. It was something I have wanted to do my whole life. It was wonderful.. and? I want to say magical.. except... yeah. I'd be lying. They were incredible, and the two dolphins I swam with didn't seem to be miserable or unhappy.

Not gonna lie, the dolphins were way cuter than I was. *laughter*. Clearly they understand photogenic.

In the end? I am glad I went, although I am still not sure how I feel about dolphins in captivity. I like the idea that on many cruise ships and in the Bahamas, you have an 'ocean' pen where the dolphins swim freely. They choose to allow you to swim with them, then they can leave when they are done. It seems more... free that way. The irony of swimming with captive dolphins on the 4th of July has not escaped me.

Do we, as a species have the right to domesticate animals? We domesticated the wolf, the horse, the cat (or as a wonderful friend once said to me, when we were domesticated by the cats)... is that such a horrible thing? To have domesticated dolphins?

What I know? Is that the dolphins were beautiful. They were loving and gracious to us humans that swam around them. I rode one, got pushed by my feet around the water with one, petted them... connected a little with them, but it is true about their eyes. Their eyes say so much... They are incredibly intelligent creatures. I hope someday, when we look back on our treatment of animals, we don't cringe at what we thought we knew...

 And find out, we didn't know anything at all.

Peace,

MaryKate

A Long Strange Trip...

95/100

"It's in my brain, my lungs and my liver, MK."

Those were the words I heard this morning when I called my best friend. For a moment I allowed myself some tears. Then instead of asking about prognosis (do I really need to ask that question anyhow?)  I told her I had rented an RV.

We are going camping. I hate camping. I just want to be sure y'all know that. However, I'm going to love camping like I have never loved anything before.

My bff's request is to get a big RV and drive across America. She is so excited about it. We talked a good twenty minutes about all the things we want to do. It is the way to get around the big white elephant in the room.

We're going to pack the kids, her, me, a family friend into the camper and go. C wants to go to the Grand Canyon. I told her whatever she wants? I will do my damnedest to make happen. Right now? I'm not even going to worry about cost. At this point, what is money, anyhow. My dad has been amazing and saved money for me to use as a downpayment on a house or retirement someday. I'm going to talk to him about letting me have some of it. I refuse to worry about money.

*I* want to spend the night in hotels. SHE wants to camp. Lord. The things you do for the people you love. My mom understood things well when she said, "My idea of camping is Howard Johnson's".

I want to make this happen. For her. For her kids. For me. I am selfish enough to want to spend as much time with her as I can. Sitting under the stars, talking. Because... well... yeah. I don't need to go into it. There isn't a single one of you out there, with a very very best friend... who doesn't know why.

Peace,

MaryKate

Uncomfortably Numb

94/100

The last four days of my life have been very difficult. In order to explain, it is going to seem like somehow my issues are more important than my best friend's issues. They are not. My life, in comparison to hers has little struggle, little strife and few battles. 

Many of you know my best friend has survived breast cancer for two years. Thursday I found out the cancer had returned and eaten through her hip and was in the bones of her back. She's had severe neuropathy in her face for the past month. She couldn't look at lights or use the computer and was pretty much bed-ridden from the pain.

Yesterday, she found out the cancer had reached her brain. When she called me yesterday morning to tell me, we cried together. I felt my life shift sideways.

My best friend is one of the most amazing women I know. And I know a lot of people. She has always been my cheerleader. Always supported me. Always loved me. We met almost 20 years ago and from the first time our energy connected, for me? It was like the world had been put right. I have not met a woman so strong. I have not met another woman so determined, so loving and so giving. She is my best friend and my life is full because she is in it. Always the first to offer to help, the first to suggest things in my life to support me, the first to rush to my defense, the first to hold my head when I cried over ended relationships, the first to come out swinging by my side. She is an incredible mom, taking her kids to COSI, museums, listening as her daughter grows up to be her own person. Talking about the complicated issues. My best friend and I planned on growing old together at the lake. Driving in our golf carts, mumu's and bath robes over to each other's house early in the misty mornings to drink fresh coffee and gossip about her kid's lives and her grandchildren and our lives. Even now, as I sit here, I can see us in those golf carts up at the lake, tooling around, laughing and loving each other. I am not ready to give that up. I am not ready to give up, period. 

Saturday, we both cried. We didn't say anything about the future. I tried to be strong, but I wan't very successful. By Sunday, she was ready to do whatever she needed to survive. I don't know what that will mean, likely radiation and the surgery on Monday (today) to do a hip replacement. Right now, she can't walk.

My best friend has two children, my beautiful goddaughter and her wonderful brother, 11 and 8. She also has a loving husband who also has his own battle with cancer he's fighting. If anything happens... well... besides being without my greatest cheerleader, as the godparent, my life will change considerably.

I am not ready to concede to cancer. I do not want to look down that road to some end that seems inevitable. At first, when I found out, I held on SO tightly to my life. Thinking that my life mattered. That my job mattered. That my house here mattered. Having had a day or two to process? I realize it doesn't matter. What matters is doing what I am called to do. Because in the end, I am lucky in my life to have a friend like her. I am lucky to have so many wonderful friends in my life, period. But when you make a promise to a friend, especially one involving her children, that promise is your bond. At least in my world it is. And if the day comes I have to navigate that, I will find a way to do that.

I feel grateful to every single one of my 'family' who have supported me. Even people I *just* met have been incredibly kind and loving. To every one of you with a kind word to me and a prayer for her and her family, thank you. To the amazing ladies in my writing group, who found me sobbing in my kitchen two hours after I found out about the brain cancer and who loved me and loved on me and helped me focus on my writing for a while and not my shattered heart? I love every one of you. <3

This chilly Pacific Northwest morning, I have my feet (mostly) back on the ground. I am alive and so is she. Today? That is what I have. Tomorrow? I will deal with tomorrow.

I will be leaving for the summer to spend my time in Ohio with her and her family. She will require 6 weeks of therapy to be able to walk again. I will stay there as long as I can. I won't be able to do the triathlon, but my friend Perry is going to help me ship my bike there, so I will have a bike to ride with my goddaughter this summer. (Thanks Perry! You are such an awesome guy!) I'm going to try to keep up with my swimming and walking. Perhaps when I get home, my friend Trish and I can find another smaller triathlon to do in September. I don't want to give up on the idea of doing a triathlon, I just realize I can't do the one in August.

Again, just in case I haven't had the chance in person, I love you. I say it to my family whenever I talk to them and I am saying it to you, because in the end, it isn't *really* blood that makes a family, is it?

Peace,

MaryKate

The Tao of Brisket

84/100

Sooo... this weekend I was going to clean my house. Top to bottom I had it all planned. It's Sunday right now and my house is a *bigger*disaster than before I started on Friday. I spilled brisket broth all over my kitchen. If you don't know? Brisket broth is mostly fat... I've been cleaning up grease now for 20 minutes and it isn't even 9am.

I was pissed about the brisket anyhow. Stupid 20lb brisket was WAAY more brisket than I needed. I had promised someone I'd make brisket in exchange for Windows 7 and *maybe* the new Office Suite software. The only brisket available without going all over town was a 20lb brisket. I was irritated that I couldn't even fit the stupid thing on the grill. So I cut it in half, wrestled the 10 pounds of beef and spice onto the grill, closed the lid, finished spicing the other half to put on the grill 12 hours after the current piece came off and started to clean the disaster a 20lb brisket made in my kitchen (notice how I blame the brisket for making the mess, not the person cooking the brisket?). That was the moment the 'intended recipient' texted me to inform me that work was quite busy and that brisket was probably out for the weekend. I stood looking at the disaster of a kitchen and thought... "Really? REALLY? I couldn't have gotten that message, oh I don't know... maybe 15 minutes earlier before I started wrestling with the dead cow in my kitchen??????"

I fumed. I was put out! I felt sooo disrespected. It pulled up a lot of deeper issues and I could feel my frustration level escalating. But as is wont to happen lately, I'm roiling in my anger about the whole situation getting a good hatin' on and I hear a voice... well... maybe I shouldn't write that. Admitting to occasionally hearing voices in my public blog might *not* be the best choice. Still, that doesn't change what happened. I heard the sweetest, gentlest voice say to me, "MaryKatherine, stop. Just stop. Be still a moment and listen."

When I hear a voice? And that voice tells me to stop and listen? I tend to do that. And what happened when I stopped and listened was worth it. Because a feeling came over me (no, no more voices :) ) of being grateful. It started with a feeing I needed to stop being angry at the poor cow. It had already given its life, I didn't need to heap on any more anger at that poor beast. So I took a moment to thank the cow for sharing its life and its meat. Then? I got this picture in my head of what to do. Instead of being upset by who couldn't eat the brisket, I decided to be grateful to those who could. First? I invited over my friend Leanna and her husband Mike. They took care of my cat while I was gone for 2 weeks in Ohio with my dad. I invited them over for dinner and they happily accepted. Then I started to think about the 15 pounds of brisket I'd have after I trimmed off the fat and it cooked down... I decided to take some over to my friends F and R. They have been so wonderful to me and supportive. We always have a wonderful time when we get together. Another friend just had a beautiful new baby... what new mom doesn't want someone to bring them fresh brisket and the trimmings for a dinner? I realized I could take the remaining brisket to work on Monday. Every single person at my job had to make a sacrifice because I was in Ohio for two weeks. My sister and I had talked about doing something nice, and I realized this brisket? And taking all the fixings for lunch? Would be just the thing. I didn't realize when I started cooking the brisket that it was going to end up being an exercise in grace more than an exercise in cooking.

I know that life doesn't always take the path I think it is going to take. When it doesn't? I get frustrated, probably because the unknown makes me nervous.  Part of the idea of Tao is learning to go with the flow of life instead of fighting against it. And a big part of going with the flow of life? Is remembering to stop and listen and let grace in. When I do, I see the bigger picture. It turns out, this story wasn't about who didn't want the brisket, it was actually about who did. And I miss that sometimes when I get stuck in my own self and forget the bigger picture.

Being healthy means having grace when I think of others. When I take a moment of grace, I remember they are struggling as well. Often their issues are hidden and it is easy for me to jump to conclusions that aren't accurate. And as important as it is to have grace with others, having grace with myself is just (if not more) important. Not being harsh on myself, not being overly critical or perfectionistic is a way of remembering to have grace. If grace starts with me? It is easier to hold that space for others.

So, thanks 20lb brisket! Thanks for reminding me to be grateful... from the life of the cow? To the lives of the people I love and love me in return.

Peace,
MaryKate

Tri what???

79/100

I have wanted to do a triathlon for seven years now. I get excited about it... I think I can do it on my own. I start to train. In a week? I've given up. I tuck away those feelings of failure and just move on. People just smile now and I am sure they think 'oh sure she's talking about that triathlon thing again'. I know I like to dream. And I know, I like to imagine me having already DONE the thing... but I actually SIGNED UP for one!

One of the wonderful things about my life, is that when I really put the energy out to the Universe that I want to do something? Wheels starts turning and *boom* it pretty much happens. Not always in the way I thought it would happen, but when I am open to life and let go of control? It really seems to work itself out beautifully.

So... about two weeks ago, I decided it was time to get back to working on my weight and my exercise. It's been a lifelong issue with me. My struggles with weight. I remember about seven years ago, I had lost a bunch of weight. I went with my sister shopping. I tried on a pair of tight leather pants. I walked out and my sister told me I looked *hot*. I went back into the dressing room, panicked, started to cry, took off the leather pants and within a month put the all the weight back on (and then some for good measure)... that was sort of the last time I really invested in losing weight.

But since I started writing this blog, since I really started digging into my 'stuff', I've realized I like myself more. I still have issues (don't we all?), but I realize I have made some shifts in how I see who I am. At lunch the other day with my friend Lori, I said that within a relationship I often have a difficult time speaking up for what I really need. She just shook he head and said, "I don't get it MK, how is it *you* can't see what everyone else around you sees? That you are this amazing, strong, wonderful woman?" I couldn't answer her. For most of my life I did *not* see that. And heaven knows, my self confidence and self image took some beatings over the last year. I had few reserves to pull upon to boost myself back up - I mean I have amazing friends who never let me fall *too* far. But finding that resolve within myself and that confidence inside has taken me a while. But within the last month or so, I have realized I feel like I am back on track. I feel like I have found that spark inside of me again - I feel alive and I feel back in the flow of my own life, not trying to swim against it.

So when I said to myself, I'm ready to get back into an exercise program, *poof* two days later my friend Trish mentions to me that she has signed up for a triathlon to support breast cancer! SCORE! Next thing I know? I have signed up as well. I'm excited about it. It's sort of a baby triathlon, but it's perfect! And I am not doing it alone, I'm doing it with someone who isn't counting on me, but *is* excited to share the journey with me.

So, things are moving in my world. I feel like I was stuck for a while... but here I go, back on to my next adventure. I didn't make it up at 6:30am today to workout, but I will either go tonight or go swimming at my place. I think the important part is to do something every day, not get hung up on when the plan for that morning takes a left turn. My goal is to do *something* and keep working towards it. I have to get to the point where I can swim 1/2 mile, bike 12 miles and run 3.1 miles! I can do this! If you think you might want to come with? Let me know :).

I'm excited and nervous, but I think this means I will *finally* get a bike that I like! *laughter*

Peace,

MaryKate

The Best Medicine
73/100

Laughter. I think sometimes I forget how healthy it is to laugh. Looking back I can see that the friendships in my life that have lasted have been ones rich with laughter. I was thinking about why laughter is so important in a relationship.

Laughter implies ease. It shows connection with another human being. It shows delight and devotion. If you feel safe enough to laugh with another human you feel safe enough to cry with that person. My sister says, "It's that moment when you know someone 'gets' you. When you experience being heard." Within that delight at life, that recognition, that pure joy shared for a moment with another, a bond is formed. A bond of connection. Trust, built in moment of joy, is a foundation that can last in moments of sorrow.

I can remember being with someone where I was constantly apologizing for laughing. I'd be watching the television and something so funny would come on... or I'd be watching a movie (Galaxy Quest is my favorite for just pure laughter) and I'd laugh so loudly with such pure delight. And I'd be laughing alone. And I'd find myself apologizing. I suppose the fact that I wanted to hide my laughter was a signal that it wasn't going to last. I'd look over to not even see a smile.

Laughter to me says "I live a passionate life!" Now... I will admit that there is certain laughter that I don't include in this category. Nervous laughter, for one. That laugh you do when you feel so uncomfortable, or when someone laughs at a funeral or some other sad occasion. It's that 'laugh so I don't cry' that sometimes seems so accurate. Or when someone laughs when an animal gets hurt, it's a reaction that I truly don't understand.

Another type of laughter that isn't joyful or kind, is laughter 'at' someone. At first, it may seem like it brings two people together to laugh at someone else. It gives that false sense of connectedness to another person, but there is no safety when you are in a relationship with someone willing to be cruel to another.. 'Trust' built on moments of cruelty is a foundation that cracks and crumbles at the first sign of trouble. And friendships that are built with laughter that is cruel? Are the friendships where one day you are laughing at others and the next? That person you once laughed with is now laughing at you. It's why I never liked shows like "Candid Camera" and shows like "Punked." Those shows make people laugh at the expense of another person. They make it seem like humiliation is acceptable when the person being humiliated laughs. Except it isn't. And that kind of laughter isn't the type lasting friendships and relationships are built upon.

I'm not perfect. I've been known to make a joke or two at someone else's expense. I'd like to say I've never made fun of someone... heck I'd like to say I've never been made fun of but I'm not perfect and neither is life. And heaven knows if I can't laugh at myself I'm  in deep doo doo. I have to be able to laugh at myself sometimes. I can't take my life too seriously. I am a mistake maker and sometimes the only way to lighten my own mind is to remember to laugh. Not to dismiss the problem, but to help put it in perspective. Because even when life is difficult, it's still a joy to be alive.

But laughter? Laughter matters. And I know, as I seek fulfilling relationships in my life, that I will seek relationships where laughter - the nurturing kind- is effortless. Because the joy inherent in laughter is the joy reflected in the relationship.

Peace,

MaryKate

Something's Wrong...

69/100

When I was in high school, there was only one thing I truly ever wanted. Well, besides a boyfriend and to like myself. More than anything I wanted to be in our show choir. I had zero self confidence and I could be difficult to get along with. I had a few good friends, but mostly the other kids were okay to me, or they were horribly cruel. Either way, the one thing I always thought I had going for me, was my singing voice. I could sing two and a half octaves. I had clear pitch. I had (and I would like to say, still have) talent. And more than anything, I wanted to be in show choir. Somehow I felt that if I was in show choir I would be 'okay'. It would somehow make me feel like I belonged somewhere. It would make me part of a group of people I admired. I think it made me think I would be special. Anyhow, I auditioned with the idea that it was a forgone conclusion. I auditioned knowing there really wasn't anyone with a better voice or better attitude for show choir. I was a Gleek before anyone even knew what Gleek meant!

My audition was awesome. I hit every note, smiled, showed my enthusiasm. I pretty much worshipped the woman I was auditioning for... and at that time, I still believed that life was fair. I had talent, therefore I would make it. When she posted the list of people who made the show choir and my name wasn't on it? I was... well... crushed is kind of an understatement. I went to her office, determined to be 'okay' with it. I asked her why. And? She said all kinds of platitudes. She fed me lines like, "You don't blend very well. Your voice is too loud." I didn't understand. I was first alto. I HAD TALENT. Damn it. But I started sobbing. I couldn't stop - and I had this vague feeling that something was wrong. That something wasn't true. That I was being lied to.

As I am a teacher now, it must have been so hard for her to watch me cry like that. I want to think that anyhow. I want to still think that about her. I don't want to think that her image was more important than the devastated child in front of her.

I went home. My dad knew how excited I had been about show choir. He asked me how it went. I started crying again. I told him I didn't make it. I told him what she had said. And in a moment that changed my life forever, he gently, but clearly said, "Honey, it has nothing to do with your voice. You didn't get in because you are fat."

"NO!" I screamed. "She isn't like that!! She TOLD me it was because of my voice!" I screamed at him that he just didn't understand. I think I accused him of lying. My dad realized it was a losing argument and just said in that wonderful but slightly condescending voice, "Okay, honey."

But I knew he was right. It was like a lightbulb exploded in my head. I went back to school the next day and watched the rehearsals for show choir and pretended everything was fine. But I knew something was wrong. I knew I had been lied to. I was never able to shake that feeling. I'm not sure I ever really got past it. It has given me a pretty high bullshit meter. Ask my students, they'll tell you. They often *think* I buy their stories about dogs and homework, but they know and *I* know... BS is BS.

Today, when I start to feel that "something is wrong" feeling, I've learned to trust that on some level I  know something isn't right. I'm probably being lied to or more accurately, either I am being inauthentic or someone around me is. Something doesn't 'feel' right. The problem isn't recognizing something is wrong, the problem is figuring out exactly what that 'wrong' piece is. Part of the problem is that often the lying isn't intentional. The other person perhaps believes what he or she is saying. But the net result is that feeling that 'something is off base. Something is wrong..."

Without going into too much private detail, toward the end of my previous relationship, I had that feeling. I couldn't put my finger on what was 'wrong' but I knew something was.  I was crying a lot, I was frustrated. I was in therapy. I had all these pieces but none of them gelled. I had the frame of the puzzle but no box to guide me in putting together the image. Then, one day my best friend, in one succinct sentence said more or less to me, "MK, what you are describing isn't friendship, it's dating!" and all the issues going on in my situation became clear. It was the reality I didn't want to see. That the person I was with was dating... but it wasn't *me*. The same thing happened the next time I got into a relationship. I was sooo invested and then I had another one of those... 'something is wrong' feelings. This time? I had, without the feedback from friend or father, a shining moment of clarity that I could not doubt or look back on. It was only a month later when I was proved correct and the relationship ended.

It seems like once I establish that something is wrong then have that 'ah-ha' moment, I can't pretend I don't see. It is clear and it is a light bulb moment from which I can't turn back. The stark truth. Unsweetned. Bitter. Unavoidable.

I'm having one of those moments in my life again. A feeling that something is 'wrong'. I both dread the moment of knowing and ache for it to show up. That moment when I can't look back and pretend I don't know what's wrong. But I don't know what is worse - knowing that I am about to have one of those moments, or when the moment actually arrives and I say to myself... "oohhhh... crap. That hurts, but now I know the truth of it. THAT's what I am feeling!"

As painful as that moment in high school was, it forged who I am. It taught me to trust that 'something is wrong' feeling. To figure out how to slice through the bullshit to find the authentic self and the (often painful) truth of things. I still lie to myself at times. I think we all do. But as hard as the truth is to hear, I have learned to honor it and respect it - even when it isn't what I want to do.

Honoring my truth is healthy, even when it hurts. Trusting that voice (even when I'd rather ignore it and hide under the covers of my new, comfy bed) takes courage. I'm glad I have people in my life that hold me up and remind me that healthy? Isn't always easy.

Peace,

MaryKate

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.”

~Mother Teresa

68/100

I wonder sometimes why the word 'love' is such a loaded word in my life. How is it, a species so designed to love has such a complicated relationship with such a basic need.

I am amazed at how complicated love is. I think about how easily that word comes from me. I love food, I love friends, I love a book... and how difficult it is when someone says to me, "MK, do you love him?" Suddenly? That word changes complete meaning. A word I toss around like candy at an Easter Parade, suddenly seems precious. Almost hoarded. And I think to myself... I don't know, there is so much pressure with that word. And I think when we add the word 'in' to 'love' the whole situation becomes loaded with expectations and pressure that makes just 'loving' someone seem easy.

Recently, I had to contemplate love. I think it is one of those words that has changed meaning as I have grown. What 'love' meant to me at 15 is not the same now. Much like the word home which I talked about before.  I remember about 6 years ago, I dated a guy I called the cowboy. He was 6'7", well over 300 pounds and I was pretty sure the most handsome man I had ever met. After ten minutes? I was smitten. We went on a drive to Deception Pass. I remember kissing him and thinking the world was spinning so crazy! *laughter* Anyhow... a date or two later, he said to me, "MK, I think you care too much about me." I laughed. I said, "Cowboy, I'm probably inlove with you, but *you* don't have to do anything about that! You aren't responsible for how I feel. Just let me love you." But he felt obligated. If *I* felt that way, he felt like *he* needed to feel that way.

Of course admitting to the joy and abandon I was feeling was too much pressure. Eventually, about two months later, the cowboy and I went our separate ways. I was sad, but life goes on. I didn't regret *how* I felt, but I suppose some part of me regretted *telling* him how I felt.

I'm not sure what to do with the word 'love' now. I've realized in my life it isn't so hard to love someone, but sometimes it is really hard to *like* someone. And I find I have become more stingy with the word love. Someone close to me told me the other day that she was the first one in her relationship to use the word 'love'. She said it changed the whole mood of the relationship. They have been dating a few months now and I was surprised they hadn't said it before. But he wasn't sure what to do with that word. And I remember her saying to me, "Dang it MK, I was NOT going to be the first one to say it!" Huh? Why is it that if you feel that you love someone, it is a bad idea to tell them? It's part of this dating game I don't think I get.

I started thinking about how I hoard the word "love" these days. I hand it out pretty freely with my friends, but with guys? Not so much. What *is* that about? Why should I be afraid to say I love someone? Just because I love someone doesn't mean I expect to spend the rest of my life with that person. How is it I have become so unwilling to just 'love' and see where it goes?

I have no answer for these questions. I just know I have been thinking a lot about it. About the weight of the word love, and I wonder if that word deserves so much angst surrounding it.

Because in the end, I wonder if it isn't "love" we are afraid of, but being vulnerable. And somehow the word 'love' seems to open up that door to our hearts. Then? What do we do with that love if circumstances change and we are no longer with the person? One of my dearest friends D and I went our separate ways several years ago. It was a misunderstanding that wasn't able to be healed. For a long time I was so angry. How could he just walk away from such a long friendship? How could he 'toss' me aside? How could he not be willing to talk through it? After all, we loved each other. Why couldn't we make it work? Then, when I realized he really had shut the door, I didn't know what to do with all that love that once belonged to him. It was a big pile of the stuff and I didn't want to throw it away. It sat, mocking me in my living room. I'd see a photo of him or an old email and that big pile of love would torment me.

Then one day, I realized that love wasn't going to go away. It would always be there. Instead of being angry I felt it, I welcomed it back into my heart and made peace with it. It is still attached to him. And someday, I still hope he and I are able, again, to be friends. But for now? There is no need to toss away that love or deny it. I feel the same way about others in my life that I have loved and that are no longer part of my life. Even if the expectations I had for that love have shifted, the love itself is still there. And being angry or bitter about those lost expectations really serves no purpose.

I guess, in the end, I am working in my life to be more present with loving and vulnerability. I don't have the answers to the difference between love and 'inlove', and I still find myself more 'careful' about using the word 'love' in relationships, but the reality is that I am a person that loves. And instead of thinking that is a bad thing, I'd like to shift my perspective a bit. I realize that being a person that loves might mean I get my feelings hurt, but in the end, I'll be better off for having let myself love, than I would if I hoarded my 'love'. Besides, I've watched that tv show 'Hoarders' and if that is what happens when you hoard things? I don't want to know what I'd end up like if I continued down the path of hoarding love like it came in some limited quantity.

I'd probably truly end up that 400pound, single, crazy cat lady with 40 cats and photos of all of them in my wallet. There ain't nothin' healthy about that image.

Peace,

MaryKate

Because you got to have 'frieeeeeends... la la la la la la la

65/100

This morning as I was making my breakfast, I had a crazy 'insight' flash in the kitchen. I get those sometimes. You know, I'm minding my own business, warming up my leftover egg casserole in the microwave when *bam* out of the blue I have this insight. Usually I hear a voice along with it, but that might make me sound crazy, so this morning I'm going to go with *just* the insight and leave the 'voice' out of it. ;).

Now, this insight may not be so life changing for you, but for me? It's as if my energy just shifted and I suddenly realized something I haven't ever really grasped before.

I'm dating right now. Met this guy. I dig him. He's got a great smile, great eyes... blahblahblah. It's been a bit turbulent because we met, then a week later I went to Ohio. Also, he's been working a couple of different jobs to make extra money this holiday so he has been really busy. The chemistry is way there, but I've been trying to process what it is that has been making me feel so out of sorts about it.

To start, I have been insecure. Alternatively thinking "this isn't going to work" to "ohh I *want* this to work". Roller coaster ride. It isn't this guy. It is *every* person I go out with. I get on this crazy expectation train and then start to over analyze and over-process what is going on. I end up processing with my sister and friends trying to figure things out. Last night I hit a wall with it. Started to see a pattern in my life and then this morning? Big ah HA! moment.

What I realized is that I change when I start to 'see' someone. I get anxious. I think I talked about this before. I become demure, quiet and I become needy. I question myself, start to question my abilities to navigate a 'relationship'. I put all these expectations on my partner and on myself. I will behave this way, my partner will behave this way and I will understand what is going on because I have it all under control. For example, "I will text every day and HE will text every day and even if we don't see each other we will connect EVERY day" and somehow that will make it all better...

So far? This relationship has *not* been like that. And last night I realized how lost in the 'expectations' I had become.

Then? I started thinking about the dinner I had with a friend of mine two nights ago. Love her and we haven't seen each other in probably four years. Our lives went separate ways for a while and I think she was worried *I* was upset and I was worried *she* was upset and guess what? NEITHER of us was upset and we laughed for hours and talked all afternoon when we saw each other again.

The question I asked myself this morning in the kitchen was, "Why can she and I see each other after several years and it was like we hadn't been apart, and yet in my romantic relationships, I can't go four days without hearing from the person without freaking out?"

I thought to myself, "Well, maybe I am more vulnerable in romantic relationships" but that isn't true. I tell my friends my deepest truths. I am supported by my friends, but they tell me the truth and I listen and process it with them. I sometimes hide my deepest fears and anxieties from the person I am dating because I fear rejection or discomfort.

What I finally realized this morning is something my sister has been hinting at but I'm not sure either of us really put it into words. When she started dating someone recently, she told me, "Why would I want to date someone that didn't make me laugh and that I couldn't talk to like you, MK?"

And this morning in the kitchen I realized exactly what she means. Dating for me, should be about finding a 'friend' not finding a 'husband'(because god knows if I EVER want to get married again). What I mean by that is that if I can't laugh and joke and be myself with the person I am dating? I shouldn't be dating that person. Now, I do think dating is taking friendship to another level. I certainly don't want to be intimate with my 'friends', and I know that adding 'intimacy' to a relationship changes the parameters of the 'friendship'.

The 'problem' as I see it, is in the past, I have dated and partnered with people I wouldn't have chosen to have as a friend. People that didn't treat me as well as my friends, didn't understand me as well as my friends, didn't want to get to know me as well as my friends and more, people that weren't *able* to do that. I changed my standards because *I* change when I date. I become more reserved and I pretend I'm not as intelligent as I am because guys seem intimidated by it. Some of the guys I have been partners with have felt that they needed to 'teach me' to be less opinionated, they needed to 'correct' how I see things. They needed to 'counter' my intelligence by disagreeing so that I could 'change' to how I present myself to a more 'acceptable (according to them)' way of being. Often, I think they do it because they feel intimidated. But my friends? Don't do that. They may say to me, "MK, that's harsh" or "MK, what do you mean by that?" My friends LIKE who I am. They may disagree with me at times, but they are kind in how they disagree. They love me and they process with me to help ME become a better person. The people in my life that are my friends listen and laugh and share their lives and help push me to grow outside of my comfort zone without being cruel or unkind. Those that are unkind? Don't get a second visit to my house or my life.

I realized, in the kitchen this morning, that not only do I want chemistry with the person I am dating, I want to establish a solid friendship as well. I can let go of this pressure to hear from this person all the time, let go of this neediness - I don't expect that from a friend I don't need to expect that from someone I am dating.

However, the catch? Is that I realize I have higher standards for my friends than I do for the people I date! So from now on, I will be comparing the people I date to my friends. If this person doesn't make me laugh, doesn't want to really get to know me, isn't interested in my life or what is happening in my family, isn't curious about how I think and how I see the world, and doesn't think I am amazing? I am not interested. Because I think and want ALL those things from people I see as a friend. I want to know about my friend's lives and I am curious about how my friends think. AND? there has to be chemistry. Because I have lived through a relationship that was just 'friends' and that doesn't work either. There has to be that spark, the desire for each other BUT it has to come with wanting a deep friendship with that person. Otherwise? Chemistry burns out, but true friendship lasts a lifetime.

If the person I want to date, doesn't meet the standards I set for the people I consider my friend? Then I shouldn't be dating that person - it isn't healthy. And while I'm all clear that not all of my friends are people I would want to date, the person I want to date certainly has to be someone I would want as a friend.

Peace,

MaryKate

Write On The Sound...

47/100

I have spent hours today enveloped in writing, with little left over for my blog. I spent the day at a writer's conference in Edmonds. I go almost every year and have not been disappointed. Today I heard a lecture by Natalie Goldberg. She wrote the book Writing Down the Bones.Her speech was great and I felt very connected to the people around me listening to what she had to say about getting in touch with the deeper writer within.

There is something so empowering when you spend time with like-minded people. I can't begin to describe how much I enjoy spending time with other writers at this conference. Now, some of these people are a little off the beaten path (okay, some are so way off the path they need a Garmin) but that desire to write? That push to compose? It's wonderful immersing myself in that energy and connecting with the people that swim in that particular pool. I suppose every human craves a community. A place to feel loved, connected, accepted. I feel that way with my writing group (I <3 you Teri, Val and MaryAnn) and I feel that way with the people at this conference. I may never publish anything, but who knows! The world has room for all sorts of magic and dreams are a part of being happy. I remember once telling someone in a jovial manner 'hey, I could publish a book and never have to work again!' His response was, "You know that isn't going to happen, right?" well phooey on that response! I *like* to dream, it is what makes me a good writer, a good story teller and a good friend. I believe being around people who also like to dream and tell stories and laugh.

Being around people that write makes me light up inside. I like hearing and reading their writing, I like how they all want, no it's more than want, it's *need* to tell the stories inside of them.Some people get that community feeling from biking with friends, or horseback riding, or being part of a group that makes glass 'flowers' out of old antique dishes, or gardening groups or reading groups or one of a million other hobbies that bring people together...

I like writing. I like being around writers. Some of them grate on my nerves like steel wool on porcelain, and some? Some of them are like finding family I didn't know I had, but feeling as if I have known them all my life and being so very glad to see them. I met a woman like that today.

If you have a passion... something that makes you sing inside? I hope you follow it. I hope you connect and find a community where you feel loved, accepted, cherished and appreciated. Because I have and I do.

I thought I would share something I wrote in a flash fiction class today, the 'assignment', was to take a phrase (I chose the phrase 'because I could') from some of the handouts and then in about five minutes use words from the previous sentence to compose a piece of 'flash fiction':

I left
because I could
because I could walk away
because I could no longer face your eyes
your eyes that held no passion and never had
once, when I was young, my eyes held great passion
and I thought my great passion was enough
but it was not
and I am not
and because I could?
I did.

:). Not bad, not great but for 5 minutes? I thought it wasn't too bad of an effort. :).

Off tomorrow to the conference again. Looking forward to day two of learning, sharing and just basking in the joy of being part of my community.

Peace,

MaryKate

Morning Has Broken...

30/100

It's 7:15am. I have 15 minutes to write this, then I need to shower and head to work. Today is my busiest day at work and it will be twice as hard considering I got 4 hours of sleep last night. I got up at 4am this morning and even though my body wanted to crawl back under those soft covers, my brain turned on. I tried to force the issue... sleep isn't usually a problem for me, but this morning? It wasn't happening. Finally at 5:30 I gave up and made some breakfast. Two soft boiled eggs. yay comfort food.

I sat in the quiet and the dark and looked out the window at the fog. I listened to the silence. I decided that sitting and feeling bad wasn't a solution. Hearts don't mend that way. So, I put on my swim suit and went and did laps. Twenty to be exact. Then I did some arm and leg exercises using the water for resistance. It felt good. Being in the water felt good. I suppose I am part mermaid. The water was a comfortable 82 and I watched the sky get lighter and lighter while I swam and enjoyed the early morning.

I would love to write how much better I feel and how the world is a nifty place and the sun and clouds are all singing now. They aren't though. It's still foggy out. I'm still exhausted and today is still my longest day at work. But I do feel better. I feel better because even though I am exhausted, even though I want nothing more than to sit here with my coffee, call in sick and just melt into my chair today, I'm not going to. And I'm not going to because I am one of those lucky people in this world that loves her job. I love what I do, I love where I do it and I love that the people I work with are such an amazing group of people. Every day when I go to work I feel like I am making a difference. I feel like I am touching lives. And every day, I feel like those people and those kids are touching my life as well. My students remind me what it is to be young and while I can live without their drama in my life, seeing all that teen angst reminds me what it is to be young, crazy and full of innocence about the world. Of course every teenager will tell you they aren't innocent... and hey... I've had students that have done things by 13 that I have never done at 43. But they are still innocent. A few know about how hard life can be and a few know about the pain that love often brings.

But most of them? Most of them are young and they believe they can change the world. I want them to do that. And I am grateful each day that they remind me that I am changing the world as well. They remind me not to give up. They remind me that being young and being alive may look different when you are 15, but even at 43 I am still young. And? I am still alive.

For me, I could ask for no better situation in my life. And this morning, I am taking stock in my life and the wonderful and amazing things I have in it. While I may not have 'him', I have family I love, friends I love, people around me I love and a wonderful job that nourishes me and allows me the freedom to teach in a way that I don't burn out and my students are challenged and nourished as well.

And finally? I have my health. And today of all days, the day my best friend has yet *another* surgery to try to reconstruct her breasts I am grateful she is alive and cancer free. And that even though this is the hardest surgery yet, I believe she is strong, and I know God isn't done with her yet. So, I'm taking a moment to send her some love and healing energy as well. Because as selfish as I am, when I called her crying yesterday, the day before she had to have major reconstructive surgery, not only did she listen but she held my space until I stopped being all about me and could hold her space. Together we shared our fears, our concerns and we looked forward to the future together.

So while this isn't an 'easy' morning, it is a new one. And with that note... I have to get moving. It's 7:30 and I have a long day ahead of me.

Peace,

MaryKate

ch _ _ ch... what's missing? UR

28/100

I went with my friend to church today. I haven't been to a Catholic church in many, many years. I went a couple of times in college because two of my closest friends at that time were both Catholic. I grew up Missouri Lutheran, so I pretty much knew what I was doing and all the creeds and such.

When I was younger I thought there was such mystery in a church. I remember how I loved to sit in the pews when no one else was in the church and just look at the candles. Our church was a stark one, and very conservative. But at 12, I didn't know about that sort of thing. Later on in my life I can remember wandering through Mexico loving the churches and the beauty of the stained glass and cathedrals. I felt the ancient mystery there and it was impressive to me.

I have wandered into and out of different churches since college. I had a conversation with my father once about the Power of Myth. He said to me, "Believing in God isn't a problem, believing in a personal god, you got problems." I asked him what he meant and like the most irritating koan out there, he didn't say. I railed against him. "I have a personal God", I shouted, "I have an incredible relationship with God!" He just shook his head.

Once I understood what he was trying to say, my relationship with god was never the same. First of all, I didn't even want to use the word 'god'. For a while I used "goddess" but I got frustrated at most of the 'goddess' worshipers I met. Most of them seemed to just be really pissed off "god" worshipers. They hated each other and hate wasn't what I was seeking. It seems a lot of people played the 'my god/dess is better than your god/dess' game and I got sick and tired of all of them. Wars being fought in the name of religion... trade centers crumbling and being blamed on religion... it seems like everyone had the ONE RIGHT WAY... and no one knew how to listen to each other anymore, unless you purchased with your soul their ONE RIGHT WAY bumper sticker.

I tried a more 'humanitarian' church. Unitarian Universalist. It was a good fit for a while... but their all out refusal to use the word god started to irritate me as well. I didn't want to get RID of divinity in my life, I just wanted a way to touch it again...

Then I went through a big existential crisis. There I was... the woman who for all of her life had this amazing relationship with divinity, not even knowing how to pray anymore. Not even liking the word prayer. This time in my life was the most difficult time ever. I felt outside of myself. I had been studying myths so much I couldn't see the forest for the trees. How could I believe ANYTHING??? The stories were beautiful, but all the magic of the myth were lost.

I'd say the last five years of my life have been lost. I have felt outside of myself and my spirituality.

But lately I have felt more myself than I have in a long time. I feel connected again to the magic that is life. I still try to avoid the word "god" or "goddess" or any name to a concept that is beyond my capacity to name it or define it. The minute you start to define you get religion and clearly.. I have some issues with those...

I realized today, I won't be going back to any form of rigid dogma again. Today? I couldn't even see the beauty of the mystery. I just felt so angry with all the talk of sin and guilt. I wanted to walk out of the church when a woman got up and said how proud she was that she was picketing the Planned Parenthood in Everett. I know people who use that Planned Parenthood, that organization does a great deal more than the one thing she felt it was her duty to prevent.

But I am wretched? I am sin? I am an unworthy sinner in the eyes of their god? I couldn't even enjoy the singing today because I kept listening to the words of the music, the sermon and the messages. I could barely get through "Amazing Grace" which used to be one of my favorites. In all fairness, I wasn't brought up Catholic, but Missouri Lutheran is similar in many many ways. The whole service didn't work for me and it truly bothered me. In the past I could sit and appreciate the faith of others. I could have heard the talk about the poor and how it is our job to minister to the poor and enjoyed it. But not today. Today I couldn't get past the message of guilt and sin and how much I felt that the words that were said were one thing and the actions were quite another. I realized the days when I could just go and sit in a church and soak up the mystery of the experience are over.

Then I went to Deception Pass (the irony of the name is not lost on me). My friend walked around while I sat and stared at the ocean. The smell of the water, the gulls, the breeze, the beauty... I felt closer to my spirit than I have in a long time. It was renewing. It was affirming. It was magical.

So in the end, I am grateful for today. I'm not going to lie, I am frustrated that others want to tell me how to believe. I do not think I'll ever be able to join a group again that insists I need a mediator between me and the Divine. I do not need my understanding of divinity to be personal. But I need a connection. And I apologize now if I am coming off as saying that religion is bad. I do not think it is. What doesn't work for me, is a specific form of structured religion that may very work for someone else.

I think faith is beautiful. You seek what makes your heart sing and live that. My issue comes when you tell me that how I see Divinity is somehow wrong or flawed or 'sinful'. Heck you can even believe that if you want, I'm not going to tell you how to believe... even how you believe about me. But for the love of your faith, please don't force me to see things your way. Don't take away my choice to believe how I wish to believe. As long as my way of seeing divinity doesn't take away your rights to see divinity how you want to see it? We'll get along just fine.

I do believe in mystery and magic. And I can see the deeper message in the word both written and spoken. And I may call my connection God, or Goddess or god or goddess. I may quote from Jesus, or Buddha, or Confucius. I may meditate, pray, do shamanic journeying or sit quietly by the beach and feel the earth between my toes. Those are my ways of connecting. And I can barely begin to tell you how glad I am to be feeling them again.

It is good to be back.

Peace,

MaryKate

Music soothes the savage beast...

or not...


20/100

On this milestone of 20 days out of 100 I'm pretty happy with my progress. I've been moving down the scale and loving where I am in my life.

I have a friend who once told me he has no affinity for music. There is a small percentage of the population that doesn't like music and he could care less if he never listened to another piece of music again.

I was more than just shocked. I was deeply saddened. I could not imagine my life without music. Sitting here watching the rain and listening to Mumford and Son's song 'White Blank Page" absolutely expresses my own frustration so clearly I can't even hope to come half as close to giving those feelings life using words. I am going to their concert in a month and I eagerly await the experience. These men put their souls on the stage with each word, chord and are devoted to their muse. You can see it and hear it in every piece performed.

I think I have listened to this CD at least 15 times now. :). I love the whole CD and there is just something about their music that reaches in and grabs me and won't let go. I am so present in my body when I listen. I swim in the beauty of their music; their songs are an homage to hope, the deep pain of rage, the fear and temptation of love - all with raw integrity and beauty. As an artist of some sort myself, I am constantly amazed at the power of music. I try to paint with words as these men paint with music.

And even though I adore a well crafted piece of prose,  of all the mediums of expression I have ever encountered, none is as powerful to me as music. I think I get that from my father. I remember getting up every Sunday and him putting on our local PBS classical music station and spending his morning reading the paper and refusing to let us watch tv until after 12:00. I can especially remember him listening to boy sopranos. He was once a boy soprano and whenever he listens to them he gets misty eyed. He says their voices are the closest thing to heaven there is on earth. Listen to this boy in England singing Andrew Lloyd Webber's Pie Jesu, I beg you to differ...(The boy singing is Andrew Johnson sorry about the clip from the tv show, but it's so beautiful) The tragedy of every boy soprano is growing up, but for a while? magic.

Sometimes, when I can't reach a feeling I have walled off in my soul, I reach for music. I am not super selective, it can be Barry Manilow, it can be Cher, it can even be Bach or Bay City Rollers. But the music has to reach in and touch me in some way. When I don't like a group or a song, I'm totally okay if you do... but if I don't? I don't.  I get so frustrated when, much like religion, that just because something speaks to you, you insist it must speak to me in the same way. We are all amazingly diverse creatures. Don't try to force it on me and don't call me ignorant, condemned or a 'snob' because we disagree on what touches and speaks to our hearts. You may like the voice of a singer (say... Bob Dylan) I might not (and it just so happens I don't). Go to his concerts, support him, love him... but if I don't want to go with you, love me and let me be in that space - we'll get along so much better ;).

And now? I'm gonna step off my soapbox and turn my Mumford and Sons CD up really loud and finish cleaning. Check them out... if you like them AWESOME, let me know. If you don't?You can let me know that as well, just realize I will disagree with you but respect your space! And if you've no time to listen to what is currently taking my breath away, take a minute to enjoy some song that takes away yours! You can even share it with me if you like...

Peace,

MaryKate

"Keep Your Goals to Yourself" 
um... 
no.


18/100


According to Derek Sivers it is a mistake to tell someone your goals, "Derek Sivers: Keep Your Goals to Yourself". While I can see his point (essentially he is saying that if you tell someone your plans, you enjoy the 'rush' of good feelings you receive and are more likely not to actually do the work to accomplish your desired goal) I'm not sure I fully agree.


In some ways, I get what Sivers is saying. Someone who plasters goals all over facebook, a blog and tells all his (or her) friends, ends up garnering himself lots of support. He is energized and that 'boost' of good energy then means he doesn't have to actually DO the work. After all, the ability to remember that sort of thing on facebook is brief and even if he doesn't do P90X every single day like he said was going to happen, in 24 hours everyone's facebook page will fill up with a truckload of new status messages and no one will really remember it was put there in the first place.

When I was working at a new age store in the early 90s, I remember attending a workshop where the instructor talked about how 'words have energy' and when you share your ideas, that 'magic' disperses and each person you tell makes the likelihood of the thing you are trying to manifest less and less.


Well... I think there is some truth to keeping something to yourself, but I also see the benefits of sharing...


The keeping it to yourself part for me is that I know I have at least a thousand times told people I was 'going to lose weight'. Or "OMGTHISISTHEMOSTAMAZING/fillintheblank/EVER" (fill in the blank with words like: religion, diet, book, theory, movie, political affiliation, etc.) which lasted a short while before I sucked the marrow out of the experience and moved on. With the thousand different diets or exercise plans or whatever weight loss trick I'd tried, I eventually chaffed under the restrictions, rebelled and ultimately gave up. I ended up looking and feeling flaky and unreliable.


Still, I think it is human nature to want to share experiences - it is a way to not feel so alone. It's understandable and I suspect part of the drive to 'belong'. I can almost tell a new convert to something (be it politics, religion, sport, god, exercise machine, etc.) because that person is fanatical about their 'new' discovery. Oh wow, (fill in the blank here) is the most amazing (fill in the blank again) ever! It has truly changed my life! You should really try it! But sharing and trying to entice others to 'join up' or 'see it my way' is a trait I have worked hard to grow out of... to me it is a sign of being unhealthy in that it is a way to force community instead of organically letting it grow.


The thing is, usually before the hype was over I had already headed off on my next journey. I didn't stick with things long enough for the new polish to get scuffed. 'So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye'  I was already gone.


When I look at my life however, I can see that I have also had incredible staying power. My faith, while manifesting in many forms has been a staple in my world for my entire life. My true friends, the ones who are supportive, generous, loving, kind and appreciative have remained in my life through hard work and dedication; some as many as 41 years (yes, that's you, Margaret). I think it is precisely because I shared my hopes and dreams and fears that so many people have stayed in my life so long.


I don't see my blog about the next 100 days of living a healthy life as dispersing my energy. I'm not focusing on how much weight I am losing, how fast or slow I am losing it or even if I am losing it. There is no rigid diet I am following, nor am I trying to convince any of you that I know the ONE RIGHT WAY to being healthy.


I am looking at my life and sharing what I find. The act of putting it out there means it is no longer shadowed in the corner of my deepest self whispering disparaging remarks. Naming what I find also has power; giving a name to some of the fears, anxieties and stumbles is more than just meaningful, it is a way to move forward making healthier choices in my life. It helps make room for the hopes, dreams and goals I am creating.


In the end, I write this blog for me... I am amazed, happy and at times even overwhelmed at the kindness and support I have received for writing it. I would still write out my journey, even if no one followed... but truly? Knowing you do? Helps me stay accountable, reminds me 'oh I have to write my blog today', and gives me a sense of community that keeping this to myself would never have afforded me.


SO... thank you! All of you who lurk, follow, read through my tomes and tell me at work, in emails, in the comment section that you like, agree with, disagree with, cry with, laugh with, laugh AT my posts means a great deal. Having a community that supports and appreciates me is incredible. I just wanted you all to know? I support and appreciate you, too.


Peace,


MaryKate

"Hey MK, It's Good to See You Back"


17/100


Over the last few months I've had people say to me "Hey MK, it's good to see you back". Both to my face and said about me when I am not in the room. 


Every time I hear it I pause. They aren't referring to me having come to visit, or being in the same room. Nor are they referring to my back as opposed to my front. What they are hinting at is something more elusive... harder to define. They are talking about part of my personality that has shown up off and on for my whole life. 


When I enter into a relationship, (and I don't mean a friendship), that involves emotional (and physical) intimacy... I seem to lose myself. That personality in me that is creative, passionate, funny, independent, unique, curious and even joyful seems to take a backseat to the anxious, nervous, over-analyzing, overly-careful, stressed and controlling personality lurking in the corner. I become less able to trust myself. I lose my 'magic'. I lose that part of myself that often is the part that is the most lovable. 


I grew up being afraid to be vulnerable. It made it difficult for me to keep friends. Worse, it made it hard for me to be honest with others and thus when I did make a friend, I usually lost them pretty quickly. It wasn't really until college and meeting a few wonderful people that put up with me as I learned how to be a friend, that I actually started to trust people enough to be vulnerable and therefore 'friend' material.


And as a friend? I rock. No, really. I do. I'm kind, loving, patient, giving and while at times maybe a little self centered, I often just need a gentle nudge to remember something.  In general, I will jump on the chance to be a part of your life. I'm not a good 'high maintenance' friend. If you need someone that will be there ALL the time, I'm probably not your girl. But if you want someone who is going to love you, be honest with you, cheer you on and let you hang with her while she is on her journey? That's me.


Except in relationships. Somehow I falter. I stumble. I get needy. I get anxious. My ability to trust and be vulnerable skips town. I can be desperate, clingy and I lose a lot of the confidence that makes me who I am. 


I do best in relationships where I am appreciated. Yet I seem to have a great knack for choosing relationships where that is not the case. I used to think I needed validation, but that isn't the best word. It isn't validation I am seeking but appreciation. I can't stress how important it is to appreciate others. Every time I cook a meal for my dad, even ones I don't like so much, he tells me how wonderful it is that I cooked for him. I once wrote: 

After every meal I cook for my dad, he tells me how good it is, how much he enjoys it and how he appreciates our time together. You know, it isn't hard to say those things to someone and it means so much to the one on the receiving end. Being kind to another isn't "enabling low self esteem", being kind nourishes connection and enhances love.

I find appreciation in my friendships and in my family. I realize now that I won't settle for less in a relationship. This could mean I am alone for a while. I used to think I had to be 'in a relationship' to prove that I was okay and (dare I say it?) 'normal'. I  now realize it isn't about being normal, it is about being healthy. If being myself and being healthy means being alone for a while? So be it. I'm good with that. If it means sharing my life with someone who appreciates me and has no problem telling me that? I'm gonna see that as a big, healthy, "SCORE!!!"

Peace,


MaryKate