The Safety in Vulnerability

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I've been reading Dare to Lead. In Brené Brown's book, she talks about the courage to be vulnerable and how it benefits your life and your ability to be a good leader. She explains how being vulnerable allows for feelings of safety and connection. Vulnerability builds integrity and integrity builds trust; trust solidifies relationships and strengthens connections.

It's caused me to think about my own vulnerability. In my last blog, back in February, I was barely hanging on. I was lost in my own anxiety, confusion and panic about feeling like a total failure. I realize, looking back on it, the last several years have been about being vulnerable and about tearing down my walls of isolation. These last five years have been about trusting that I was doing something that was not just in the best interest of others, but also an opportunity for me to grow and learn. This time in my life has been about accepting my failures and my joys of taking on parenting, and it has been about learning to be vulnerable, imperfect, and honest about my struggles. It's also been about realizing that good parenting is about truly putting aside my own need to be 'safe', in order to meet the needs of my children who depend on me - all while trying to figure out how to take care of myself in the process.

I've spent a lot of the last few years crying. Railing against having to trust when it was so damn scary to do so. Railing against having to tear down the walls I spent 42 years building.

I can't say my heart was in a casket, but I was TERRIBLY careful of how much I loved and how close I really allowed myself get to someone. It was easier with friends. Candace clearly taught me about unconditional love, but it was easy with her. With her I had no walls and it was the safest I have ever felt with someone. That connection was not so easy with others. I had another female friend at the time, I thought we were best friends - but in truth, I never really t her. I felt like everything I did around her was 'fine' but the feedback I often got was, "I wish you were just a little different. I wish you'd do XX more and then I'd feel safe around you." No matter how much I tried to please her, I was never able to achieve the coveted status of, "Ok, you've done enough. I can love you now." I've had relationships where my partner had a list of items about me that if I'd change, he would love me more. Again, I never reached the "Ok, you've met my standards, I can openly love you now without requirements." What I have recognized as I have aged, is that those people and those situations came because I didn't feel like I was good enough just the way I was. I chose people who reiterated to me that if I would just change a few pieces of myself, gosh, I'd be lovable after all. Those people in my life made it easy to keep my heart walled off because their hearts were walled off and they mirrored back to me the 'smartness' of being protected.

I could have chosen to stay walled off and been a disconnected parent. I could have opted to not care and put myself first. But for me, being what I personally define as a 'good' parent, meant I had to tear down my walls. It meant I had to be vulnerable. It meant I had to dare to come away from the detritus of my shattered walls, to move forward with who and how I love, and to not scoop up the dust to rebuild my fortifications.

In my life now, I keep only friends that are not, at their base, angry. I don't mean I don't have friends who get angry - I do. They get angry about politics, about our current disastrous administration. They get angry about situations in their past and present where they had no voice - both men and women, and I applaud their courage in speaking up now. I have friends who are fiercely angry and put that anger toward making change in this world for themselves and for others. What I mean is that I don't have people in my life who rage because they drop a pizza on the floor and scream so loudly and so violently, their dog cowers in the entryway begging me to take her home with me as I slip out of their house. In my life now, I have people around me in various stages of their own wall-removal projects. And I love them for it.

I recognize that being vulnerable and being someone who dares to love, means more than just being upbeat or 'nice'. I'm not nice, in fact, I once had a guy I dated tell me so. Thinking back, I wish I had asked him what he meant by that. I don't strive to be nice. I strive to be loving, honest, and live a life of integrity. I don't think those qualities generally make a person nice.

Being vulnerable is hard work. It means knowing I will, at times, be hurt by people I trust. It means having to live my life in integrity. It means looking at why I get angry and being honest with it, instead of letting anger control me. Yes, I have anger inside. It is a part of myself that I work on all the time. My goal isn't to tame it, as anger can be a good motivator, but to recognize it so it doesn't tear me down or apart. I'm working on not using angry self-talk. I spend more time loving myself and less time worrying about being perfect.

I always thought being vulnerable wasn't worth it. The world wasn't safe enough to be who I am. It was full of heartbreak and I was going to be safe from that. But now I know that the world has all those difficult situations, but I'd rather walk the world with an open heart, than a hard one.

peace my friends,

MaryKate

Finding Fabulous at Fifty

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I turn 50 at 11:47pm tonight. I thought somehow I'd feel different. But I don't. I still got up this morning, had breakfast (they forgot my bacon!) and went to work. I had lovely presents on my car from a friend, and presents at school from friends and from my sister. Oh and I got a 'join us' card from AARP. Am I old enough for AARP?????

My life is really good right now. I'm just riding the wave of two teenagers who can't decide on much and keep shifting around what and who they want to be. I'm learning to just smile and let it go, even when it hurts my feelings, stabs at my heart, or when I get attached to something that is gone the next day. Pretty typical life with kids. I wonder sometimes, how my mom and dad did it. How anyone does it... I mean, how do any of us survive parenting?

I realize, however, that something has changed in me - my tolerance for being around people who are unhealthy. My tolerance for misery and melancholy. We all go through struggles. I have gone through crying myself to sleep every night for months. But in terms of having people in my life that are chronically negative, or tear down the things that bring me joy - I'm not able to navigate it anymore. I can deal with depression and I can hold someone's space through trauma. But when it is pretty much a chronic state, when I find I start to feel bad about who I am because of someone else's unhappiness... well, I realize I need to step away.  I'm not sure if that is a good thing or not a good thing. Does it mean I have lost my patience? Or that I have lost my compassion? Or that I am a bad friend for walking away? I honestly don't know.

What I do know is that I still love fiercely. And I am still kind. And I will have your back at the drop of a hat if you need me. But I'm far from perfect. After all, my cup says "almost" perfect (thanks, Rachel!)

The next half of my life is going to be focused on being happy. On finding my joy. On being with people who bring me joy - I couldn't even begin to list them all here. Today, two friends from my past showed up on facebook! How wonderful! It's a joy that people I love and have loved for a long time are still in my life, showing up, being present and sharing their sorrows and their excitement about their adventures. Maybe I'm finally realizing at fifty, no one is going to make me happy. I can share my happiness with others, but I have to make my own joy. This next part of my journey I am going to pursue finding those qualities - even if finding those qualities in my life means great change and moving out of what makes me comfortable. I'm going to pursue connection and community, and I get excited even contemplating what that means.

Don't misunderstand, I don't actually know what pursuing love, pursuing happiness, pursuing joy and pursuing connection is going to look like or what it is going to mean, but I am excited to see where my newfound determination leads. 

Maybe the biggest gift I am giving myself this year, is that I am going to stop pursuing perfection. And I am going to stop pursuing the search for all the answers and feeling like I have to be in control to feel safe. Because sometimes, I think maybe I am asking the wrong questions anyhow. And maybe, just maybe, this year I'll learn to be a little kinder to myself. I'll learn my own value and maybe, I'll start to listen when people I love tell me my value... maybe I'll believe them - instead of doubting them and their honesty.

Thank you all for loving me. For being kind. For being patient while I move into who I am all the while continuing to stumble while I learn. We of the Meyer line live a long time. So I'm looking forward to at least another 45 years of life on this planet <3.

Peace and love this holiday season,

MaryKate

Replenishing the spirit

Nuts!
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I decided to start 2014 by attending a retreat offered by Joanna Powell Colbert. I was positive I knew why I was going. I was positively wrong. I guess the best lessons in life are the ones we recognize while we are busy thinking something else is important.

The one day retreat was created to explore a personal goal in 2014. We used the Gaian Tarot for clarity and to create action steps to bring that goal to fruition.  I haven't felt called to attend any retreat or workshop in a long time, nor have I picked up my cards. But when I read the post about the day, I felt it was time to re-engage with both.

My mom bought me my first Rider-Waite deck when I was 13. I have gone through many phases and decks over the years. However, I resonate with the Gaian deck in a way I haven't connected with the cards in a long time. From the sidelines, over the last eight years or so, I have followed Joanna's progress as she posted new cards on her website. I was thrilled with her completed deck. When I got my own copy, it quickly became my goto deck when I had a question or wanted some insight. In general, I see less 'oracle' and more 'story' when I use the tarot. For me, tarot cards are representations of universal concepts; they are symbols that tell a mythic story. My interaction with them is not to seek absolute answers, but to listen to the story I hear. Joanna's deck does a fantastic job showing the mythic, and it was because of it and her that I decided to attend on Saturday. I was excited to hold space with a woman who lives her life in such integrity and creativity.

With my goal of 'Being healthy, happy and whole' in hand, my friend Mary and I headed to Bellingham. I was ready to enjoy sharing the day with others and deepening my own mythic story. I immersed myself in the exercises. I had an amazing and healthy lunch. I walked outside and looked at the Puget Sound.

Then we returned for the second half of the day.

Do you ever have moments when you are fully invested in an activity, certain you are doing the 'right' thing and then BAM just when you think you know, you have an insight that changes everything? A moment when your breath catches a bit in your chest and then your whole body sighs because that piece of the puzzle of your life slips into place and for the tiniest moment life stands still and you 'get it'. I had that one of those rare moments.

I was participating in the exercises and going along with the goal setting and such when I drew the following card from her deck:

The four of earth.

I looked at the card and thought, "This card makes no sense." And I PUT IT BACK in the deck! I was sure I needed to draw a different card, so I did. But my mind kept coming back to the squirrel. With its nuts. And the stone cairn. I dug it back out of the deck. I read about it. My time was almost up and I hadn't written anything.

Then, BAM! I got it. The story I wasn't hearing flooded into my head. I realized everything I had done all day was important, but not as much as the story being told by this card. Apparently, the whole day was about the nuts.

The moment of insight I had was about replenishing. In December, right before break, I sort of fell apart. I was exhausted, confused, and emotionally spent. I cried for two days straight. I couldn't keep my world together. And it's okay to be in that place if that is the place you are in - and I was deeply in that place. I couldn't see out of it.

The problem I was having wasn't sorrow, or confusion, or exhaustion. Those were the symptoms - this card helped me realize that the problem was that I hadn't saved up enough nuts.

I hadn't taken care of myself. I hadn't replenished myself. I hadn't stored up enough supplies. I don't need to hoard the nuts, but I do need to make sure I set enough aside for my moments of winter.

I had made the classic mistake of giving, giving, giving and not taking the time I needed to replenish. Initially, I wanted to put this card away because I seldom put myself first. I am not a saver.

My story this year, is to make sure I save some nuts. Yes, I am going to the Y and eating more organically, and saving money, etc. But mostly, I am going to make sure I take some time each month for me. I am going to go on retreats - either by myself or with a circle of supportive people. I am going to do my best to save enough money for a trip to Hawaii over Spring Break and build a cairn on the beach. I am going to make sure I have enough nuts to get through the lean times.

And while I don't make resolutions, I honor revelations. I'm contemplating buying the print of the card to put up in my bedroom - just so I remember the 'nuts'.

I hope your 2014 is filled with an abundance of nuts and you make time for yourself to gather them :).

Peace,

MaryKate

When A Bag is more than a Bag...

Candace's Bag
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When Candace’s husband asked me what I wanted of Candace’s, I didn’t hesitate. I asked for the bag hanging in the garage. This bag. This large, blue and white, 15 - 20 year old Land's End bag that says "Candace" stitched in cursive.

It may seem like an odd thing to ask for a bag. I, of course, don’t see a bag. I see a trip. I see almost every trip we ever took together. Thank god this bag can’t talk. If it could, the things it would tell about our excursions might make me blush in mixed company...

Some of our earliest trips were to stay overnight at my dad’s ‘cabin’ in Marblehead, Ohio. Calling it a cabin made it sound so romantic. It was a trailer. An old trailer. A 1978 trailer. A comfortable middle class trailer with a room built on and an air-conditioner stuck in the window. My mother had chosen to cover the kitchen floor with carpet that had strawberries on it. God I wish I had a photo of that carpet. Sometimes it was just me and Candace. Sometimes? It was Randy. And sometimes it was a dating weekend with her boyfriend (later husband – Mike) and my boyfriend at the time. Sometimes it was a girl’s weekend. There was almost always skinny dipping involved. Oh yeah, we were wild women in our 20s. Later as well got to know each other that trip was ‘couples weekend’. Steve and Ellen, Mike and Candace, Hans and I. We lived like we had all the time in the world to be happy. And we were. Candace eventually married Mike, Steve and Ellen eventually married and Hans and I remained friends, even after all these years. They were good times. Some of the best times, and I am pretty sure Margaritas were almost always involved.

In my early 30s, I moved to Seattle. I told Candace I would only be out there for 5 years. - then I’d be back. I did move back later, but never again would Ohio be my permanent home. I remember the day I left. Candace took me to the airport. In the back of her van this bag sat full of summer stuff she hadn’t removed from her car yet. She hugged me, I made my empty 5 year promise and we cried. And we cried. She told me once she cried all the way home. Then cried for several days. I did the same. I knew I was leaving a part of myself behind. It wouldn't be long after that she started her family.

Candace and I talked on yahoo instant messenger almost every day. We talked on the phone, although I really don’t like talking on the phone – she loved it. Sometimes she’d call just to talk and I wouldn’t answer the phone. I feel bad about that now. I feel bad that I didn’t take the time to connect. It never bothered her and I don’t ‘regret’ it, just think today how much I’ll miss that. Even towards the end of her illness she'd call me and her voice was full of joy. I will miss that more than anything.

Candace and I made the trip across the country from Ohio to Seattle five times together. I can’t even remember the details of all the trips. She desperately wanted to make that trip one more time with the kids, but that didn’t happen. I remember on one of the trips, we decided we were going to stop at every cheesy roadside attraction. We saw the giant statue of the Jolly Green Giant, The Corn Palace (which was to become a favorite stop), the Spam museum (inside some strip mall at the time, we almost didn’t find it), Wall Drug (of course the signs lured us in) and The Badlands. One trip we affectionately named “eating across America”. It was not our finest hour, although we did learn the joy of fry bread tacos and I learned NEVER to take Candace to Dairy Queen twice in one day.

This bag went with us on our RV trip to the Grand Canyon. On that trip we filled it with pamphlets, AAA Guides, books from the library with all the places on Route 66 she wanted to find and National Park guides. (We always tried to take national park trips, but usually ended up taking photos out of our car windows.) On our Grand Canyon trip, Candace had just had her hip replaced because the cancer had eaten through her bones. She had barely recovered from the surgery and her doctors told her she shouldn’t go. Thank god she had an adventurous spirit. Because every single moment of that trip – all of them will be part of my shared history with Madalyn and Grant. I thank god I had the support of people around me – both financial and emotional to make that trip happen. Even the plague of locust in Oklahoma has made a memory that will never be forgotten.

Of course, this bag, if I look closely, still has sand from our trip to Put in Bay. Last summer we went one last time together. Madalyn, myself and Candace – she drove up to the lake and met me, I drove her back. Just the drive up to the lake exhausted her. Looking back, I realize letting her drive was nuts, but she endured. She brought this bag - only this time it wasn’t full of towels and sunblock, it was full of medicine. She needed an entire canvas bag to hold all of her medicine. Later, after our trip, when we returned to Columbus, she was so exhausted she slept for two days without waking up. She didn’t take any of her medicine. Two days of missed morphine was two too many. That was when I realized, for her, it wasn’t ‘better living through chemistry’ but simply ‘living through chemistry’. But the day we went on our trip to the island? It was sunny and beautiful. I rented a golf cart and Candace, Madalyn and I laughed, went to the winery and drove around the island over and over and over – none of us wanted to leave. We even went junking! I had rented a hotel room by the water. At the end of the day we took the ferry back from the island and went to our favorite restaurant – Phil’s Inn and ate spaghetti. During dinner, Candace got the call that her grandmother Gwen had had a massive brain bleed. Gwen was much more than Candace’s grandmother, Gwen was Candace’s mom, her joy, her love. Hearing that Gwen had a massive brain hemorrhage and likely wouldn’t recover, I asked if Candace wanted me to take her back to Columbus. She said, “No, Gram would want me here by the lake. It was our favorite place. She loved it here and would want me to be here. I can’t take all the drama there. Here, I can make peace with everything.” She cried and cried, but I have no doubt Gwen was the first one to greet her last Sunday. Gwen died the next day. Candace often said that it was the hardest day of her life. Last Sunday was the hardest of mine.

When Candace died on Sunday, there was no funeral. She wanted to be cremated and there were no showing hours. I was with Grant and Madalyn when she died. When I told them, Madalyn asked me to take her to Put-In-Bay. I called the ferry and it was running but the lady at the ferry told me that nothing was open there this time of year. Everything is closed. No golf cart rental, no lobster bisque, nothing. When I told Madalyn, I promised her I would take her this summer. She and Grant and I will go to Put-In-Bay together and rent a golf cart and drive around. Sometime before this summer, her husband Mike and the family are planning a “Celebration of Life” party where everyone can come and share their stories of her. I hope I can make it.

I’ll make sure to bring the bag. I’d hate for it to miss anything.

It isn't funny when the other person isn't laughing...

Cruel to Be Kind?
Only in an 80s song...
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Recently, I saw a side of myself I am sure most of us have seen, but it made me pause and take a closer look at who I am and who I want to be.


I found myself being incredibly critical of someone. I wasn't just mocking. I was being cruel. Not to her face of course, but behind her back. Whispering words like "skanky" and other equally degrading things. *sigh* I don't even like writing about it, but I did it - I said it. And I laughed about it.


Until I got home. Then I thought about it. And I wondered, where did the desire to be so harsh and critical about this woman come from?


Clearly I learned some of it growing up. When you are judged so harshly, and bullied at times, you become harsh yourself. I also think it is a form of self protection. I think being cruel comes from a sense of anger, I think it is a way to temporarily make myself feel better. I also think it comes from a pattern in my own life of being extremely critical about myself. I have spent way too many hours to count being harsh about myself - my appearance, my intelligence... Being mean to someone else is just an extension of being mean to myself. Instead of focusing the anger inward, it is much easier to focus it on someone else. But the way I felt after that initial deflection wasn't healthy or productive.


I thought about how I would feel if I had to face the woman and tell her to her face what I had whispered about her behind her back. I would have been ashamed. Humiliated even. Humbled. The worst part? This woman has been nothing but kind to me. Yes, she has a colorful past, but (if you believe such things) it's God's job to 'chat' about that with her, not mine. I have my own life to chat with God about; I should focus on that and not anyone else's life.


I have worked with people who have been cruel at times in the name of "funny". I have had friends in the past that have been cruel in the name of "funny". And I, myself, have been 'cruel' in the past in the name of "funny". And really? It isn't funny. It's mean.


I suppose it is the same reason I never found those 'gotcha' tv shows entertaining. Laughing at another person's humiliation to me isn't funny. I had a student today tell another student who was teasing her, "If I am not laughing? It isn't funny." I agree with her, but I'd take it a step further. If the other person isn't laughing? It isn't funny, it's bullying.


I've been told, when I talk about not liking shows like "Candid Camera" that I am being 'too sensitive' and that I am 'over reacting'. I learned about a new term recently. It's called  'gaslighting' and if you haven't read this article? It's enlightening. This article is also eye opening.


I realized that, for me, walking in a state of grace means walking in such a way that when the day comes that I have to stand in the presence of Divinity, I can look at my life and know I did the best I could to be kind in the face of cruelty. I know what it is to be mocked and derided. I want to live my life in integrity and in the process of being kinder to others, I am learning to be kinder to myself.


Peace,


MaryKate

A Foot in Two Worlds...

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This morning, as I sit in the airport at 4am, (having not slept) even though I am ready to fly back to Seattle, I have so much I want to write about I feel compelled to get it all down in my blog before it slips through my fingers as I hustle to make connections and flights...

Having half my life on one coast and the other half in the midwest hasn't been easy. I often feel like I have a foot in two very different worlds. It really hit home for me last night. My goddaughter and I were driving to Meijers to pick up some groceries for my BFF so I could make her Christmas side dishes. She ended up hosting Christmas Eve dinner at her house and unlike previous years, I won't be there to help her on the actual day of the event. I have my own Christmas Eve dinner to make clear across the country.

Even as exhausted as my BFF is, she is so gracious she is hosting some of her family for Christmas Eve. This year, however, as she sat in her comfy chair, in her comfy nightgown with her knitted hat covering her very hairless head, she knew that as much as she wanted to, she was too tired to cook or make the dinner happen. Not to fear, I was happy to come up with a plan! I had her make a list, we checked it twice and off my goddaughter and I went to get groceries. I made side dishes for her, got her a ham that is easy to warm up and she can do her best to stay relaxed for her family. I know she felt relief because she told me so. Sometimes, I think because she is so strong and so positive, the people around her don't realize she's actually physically at the limit of what she can do just to be a mom and a wife all the while trying really hard to keep it together because she loves her family and her friends. I know sometimes she's scared and I know she doesn't say anything to most of the people around her because that isn't who she is. But this trip I was reminded again how very glad I am that I have one of my feet in her world. I love her so very much and thank god every moment that she is part of my life.

On the way to the grocery store, I had one of those moments (this trip seemed filled with them) that caught me off guard in its simplicity and how deeply it reached in, grabbed my heart and made me remember what love is and how beautiful love can be. My 11 year old goddaughter M and I were sitting in the car together. We were talking about why I don't care for Justin Beiber and we were laughing over which song I was willing to listen to on his Christmas CD. There were only two songs I was willing to listen to and they weren't the songs she liked. In the midst of our teasing and laughing my boyfriend texted me. It was a short,  sweet little text that said, "Have fun shopping and I'll see you in just over 24 hours!" I glanced down at my phone, read the text, and had one of those warm moments you have early in relationships when you feel all giddy. M looked at me and said, "Let me guess... your boyfriend?" She smiled and had that edgy teasing tone only 11 year olds can get away with. I grinned, a bit embarrassed and said, "Yes, he texted that it's only 24 hours before we get to see each other again." She looked and me and said, "Humph! Tell him to wait! You are MINE for the next 24 hours and no one gets to take you away until then!" And she looked at me with a smile on her face.

And even though she was smiling and we were still laughing with each other, for a moment her smile faltered. In that moment I saw how scary the world can be to an 11 year old... Not that it is easier for a 44 year old, but I recalled in a flash what life feels like at 11. I saw how hard illness can be on a family. You'd think I'd remember this from my own experience growing up, but it's easy to tuck those memories back away from the light when you are an 'adult'. I have better coping skills now and even though the world may seem overwhelming sometimes, I know that I'll be okay; I will put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward. For her? There are likely many moments the world is big and overwhelming and that 'certainty' isn't so certain.

I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but I looked at her and opened my mouth and said, "M, you don't need to worry about sharing me.  You own a part of my heart that belongs to no one else. It is all yours. Always. There is plenty of my heart to go around. There's enough for you, for him, for your family, for mine... but you have your very own corner and no one can ever take that away. If you ever feel far away, you can touch your own heart and find mine right next to it."

She looked at me, smiled, and the moment passed. But it reminded me of how hard it is to have so much of my love in two places. One foot in Ohio and one foot in Seattle. A part of me wanted to stay, to take care of her and her family. To somehow make them all feel safe. If only I could! Alas, I do not have the power to make that happen. What I do know is that my heart is big enough for both of those places and all of those people. And the more I open my heart to grace, the more I learn about patience and love, the better person I am to the people I love and the healthier I become. Although I haven't been so healthy on this trip, I know even after a stumble that I will get back on that 'healthy' horse. Being healthy is too important now. Not just for my own future, but because I want to be as healthy as possible for as long as possible for those I love.

As I sit in the airport crying because I'm leaving, I also know that I am looking forward to getting home. In the future there will certainly be moments when I feel scared and overwhelmed. I am not so different than that 11 year old. But I also know, like her, I am surrounded by people that have shared parts of their hearts with me. I know whatever the future holds, for me, for my BFF, for my family, the people in my life that I love know that I love them and I know that they love me. Whatever happens in the future I'm no more alone than M is.

They are calling my flight - time to put away this blog and head back to Seattle. It's a 10 hour flight I have booked this trip. Ugh.

Before I go, I want to take a moment to wish you all a blessed holiday season. I hope you have much joy however you celebrate - even if you don't celebrate at all. May the spirit of love and light that seems to shine brightest this time of year, shine in your homes and your hearts.

Peace,
MaryKate

'Scheherazade Revisited' or '1001 tales about my life'...
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I've probably tried to lose weight a thousand times – Like Scheherazade there are easily 1000 tales of my determination to conquer my weight issues. That is not hyperbole. I've tried, and honestly? I set down my pen. I gave up on that story in my life. Instead, I wrote about learning to be content with my body and my life. Even when I started this blog, it wasn't about 'losing weight' it was about getting healthy. I was afraid of failing again, of dusting off that old manuscript and writing yet another chapter on how "This time I am REALLY going to do it!"(no… really, I am) and then having to face not only a private failure but a public one. I just didn't have it in me to even try.  

It was after this summer that things changed for me. I don't remember making a conscious decision to try again to write that tale. I don't remember some big ‘ah-ha!’ event this time where I went back to that well-worn story with no resolute conclusion and got out my quill and ink. There was no fanfare, no big announcement about 'I'm losing weight!"  I just noticed I had a different relationship with food. This summer I had a sense of renewal in my life - a new perspective that also seemed to apply to my relationship with food.

What I didn't realize, was that while I stumbled to try again to write my tale of life, the Universe was already writing the tale with much more flare and delight than even I could conceive.

I expected to write the tale about once again trying to lose weight, alone. I thought it would be a tale of sharing how, on my own, I finally conquered my lifelong goal of losing weight.

I did not expect to find someone to share this experience with.

Funny thing how the Universe works, because for the last 30 years I have tried to do it "on my own". I thought I could "conquer" my weight issues by myself. Even as I deeply desired someone to love me for who I was and someone who wanted to make those changes with me, I felt like my weight issues were something I could ‘control on my own'. I didn't need anyone's help.

Thinking back on it, the most successful attempt before this at losing weight was when I lived with my sister. We were a team and worked hard to lose weight together. The connectedness and the teamwork between her and I made all the difference.

I only stopped when I freaked out in the dressing room.

Soon after that moment, I moved out from my sister’s apartment. I kept up with taking better care of myself for a while, but then slid back into my unhealthy relationship with food. Patterns and habits are so hard to break.

Then this summer. And that moment in the parking lot when I grokked* what it meant in my life to surrender – that moment when I stopped trying to tell the Universe what to do and how to do it, when I stopped trying to control everything and everyone in my life. That moment when I realized I was done trying so hard to force the world to my will. The moment I let go and realized control was an illusion and fighting for it was exhausting.

As my relationship to myself shifted so did the relationship I had to food. I realized that if I couldn’t control the things around me, I could control how I reacted to the things around me. One of which, was how I reacted to food. Once I understood that no one could ‘make’ me feel safe, I knew that I could take care of myself. It felt empowering. It felt satisfying. And I stopped running to food to comfort me and found better ways of comforting myself. I also realized I could better love someone because I didn’t need anyone.

I stopped trying to write my story and realized it was time to allow the Universe to work some magic and write the novel of my life for a while.  

Not long after I stopped expecting anything, when I realized I didn’t ‘need’ anything is when I found something. Or... someone. 

Unexpected, but not unwelcome. 

I'm fortunate to have met someone supportive. Someone with the same goals. Someone who's emotionally healthy and who desires to be physically healthy as well. I'm not going to write a lot here about the relationship. It is what it is and this blog isn't about another person, it's about me. But having someone to share the journey has been a wonderful bonus in my efforts to take better care of my health. While I know I can do it on my own, it is so rewarding to know I don’t have to.

I look at the scale and realize there are 30 pounds less of me since I started paying attention around the end of August. It is partly Weight Watchers, although honestly? I've done WW no less than six times. I think it has to do with a different outlook on my part, and having a partner who wants for himself the same things I want for myself. Sharing meals and the experience - the ability to talk about struggles with success and failures has been a great way to build a strong foundation on many levels.

Last weekend, I went through my closet and found things I had long ago put in bags for Value Village because they didn't fit. As I tried them on, I realized not only did some of them fit, but some of them were too big for me! I started dancing around the room, liking what I was seeing and feeling.

Turns out? Underneath all my weight, I'm hourglass shaped. Go me! *laughter* Granted, at the moment, it is a rather large hourglass but when I tried on the silver silk dress I couldn't even get past my chest two months ago and saw that even though it is tight, it fits – I could see the shape my body is moving towards. And it felt good.

Really, really good.

I have a long way to go, but to paraphrase the Tao, ‘the journey of a thousand stories starts with the first word’.

I am invested in being as healthy as I know how to be. I've done all the mental thinking about it I can do. There comes a time to act. There comes a time to ‘do’. Now? I am acting. I am doing. I count myself fortunate not to have to do it alone. My newfound strength to make better choices isn't dependent on someone else, it is enhanced.

I'm not gonna lie – sharing this experience is way better than trying to do it on my own. So hey, thanks Universe for knowing what I needed, even before I did!

By this time next year, I suspect I'll be pretty close to my goal. I know it won't be easy, and I have a LOT more weight to let go of - but when I tried on those clothes that were too small for me just two months ago? I knew I was on the right path.

Perhaps I finally understand that I'm not just letting go of trying to control the world, but letting go of the physical barrier that kept me apart from the world – and from living an emotionally, spiritually, physically healthy life.

Peace,

MaryKate

* grok·ked, grok·king, groks Slang. To understand profoundly through intuition or empathy.

Beginnings, Endings, Beginnings...

100/100

So here it is - 100 out of 100. Goal? Met. Do I feel healthier? Yes, I suppose I do. Am I fifty pounds thinner? Alas... not so much. I am not sure being 'thinner' was ever my goal but I do feel like I have come through a difficult year stronger and more sure of myself. So I count the first 100 blogs a 'win'. People have told me they have enjoyed reading it and that means a lot to me, but really, the thing that makes me most happy is how much I have enjoyed writing it. I am glad that people read and respond to what I write, but the willingness to write and process what it means to me to be healthy has been incredible. It took me about one year to write 100 blogs... I started Aug. 16 2010. I'm both anxious and excited about the upcoming year and what's ahead in my life, in this blog and in the new one I am starting (more about that in a bit)...

I've decided to make a top five list of my favorite blog posts from the 100. Perhaps in the comments you can list some of your favorite? Then? Let's talk about the future :).

5. The blog where I realize I like myself:  http://mkweighout.blogspot.com/2011/06/well-who-is-that-lovely-lady-94100.html even though I feel like my life has gotten more complicated lately, I realize this understanding of who I am is still my center.

4. My second blog post about feeling like the little lunch boxes I was using wasn't enough food: http://mkweighout.blogspot.com/2010/08/lunch-lessons-2100-if-i-had-written.html it was really eye opening to me.

3. My thoughts on 'home': http://mkweighout.blogspot.com/2010/12/home-again-home-again-jiggedy-jig-64100.html although people didn't leave comments on my blog, they left a lot of comments on my facebook page. This idea of what 'home' means to me and to others really touched a lot of people. I never know what topics I write about will mean something to others... I was really surprised about this one, but pleasantly so.

2. My letter to my goddaughter: http://mkweighout.blogspot.com/2010/09/letter-to-my-goddaughter.html
I loved this entry, I loved writing it and remember what it was like when I learned Santa wasn't real...

1.  My very first blog: http://mkweighout.blogspot.com/2010/08/it-took-me-three-days-to-try-to-find_16.html  I was so nervous and worried no one would want to read it. And I would run out of things to say... clearly neither of those things happened, but I like the enthusiasm and humor of the first blog post.

Now? What's next. First, I plan on continuing this blog. I will likely start it back up full time in September. In August, I will be writing in a new blog called Open Road: Open Heart -  http://openroadopenheart.blogspot.com/
This will be the story of what my best friend, her two kids, her cousin and I do on our big "ROAD TRIP" this summer. This trip is especially important because it is time together we may not have again.

Some people have asked me if they can 'donate' to the trip this summer. At first I balked at the idea, but as the expenses for all of us to go, plus gas and wanting to go to the parks and and and add up, I realized if people wanted to feel part of the party, I should put away my pride and create a link. If you'd like to donate? Wonderful. If you can't and just want to donate prayers and even ideas, you can leave them on the new blog.

https://www.wepay.com/x175ggd/donate/123379



It has been a wonderful journey for the first 100 entries. I'm looking very much forward to the next 100. Much love to all of you!

Peace,

MaryKate

Summer Storms
99/100

I'm sitting here waiting for my ride up to the lake to see my dad. There is an extreme summer storm happening. Full on lightning, thunder, pouring down rain.

I love Ohio summer storms. On the radar? This one is *red* it is that heavy and strong. The lightning flashes through the house and the thunder shakes the windows. It's a sexy storm. *smile*

We'll see how well the video loads. 

I don't know if you can see it, but there is actual hail in the video and photo.

Already the storm is almost over. Serious but brief. It's amazing how some things in life are also serious but brief. It's mostly been a good day today... minus a few rough moments. :). It was C's last day of radiation that was really good. (happy dance)

Mads and I made crock pot lasagna. C said she wanted Mads to create a cookbook of recipes she can make for her and her dad and brother. So Mads has a 3ring binder full of paper for her to write down recipes and keep together. Crock Pot Lasagna is the first one she wrote in her new book.  It was fun, and   cool because I never write these things down I can ask her when I get old how I made things! *hahaaha* The lasagna turned out awesome and now she can make it herself. :) 

Recipe and photo... :)

Another good moment was enjoying breakfast with a high school friend that I haven't seen in 25 years. It was really lovely, unfair that she looks the same and I have aged, but hey... ;). I think what I got out of our conversation is that we have both grown up in such a strong way and that the storms I experienced in high school? Were the same storms everyone else went through. We were all in our uncomfortable, unsure, awkward space thinking we were hanging out there alone. I see the students in my high school today doing their own struggling and I see the eternalness of the tempest that is ages 12 - 19. I have a lot of empathy for myself when I was that age. And honestly, I'm really sorry I missed my 25th reunion. As anxious as perhaps I might have been going? I am going to do my best to manage to make it to the 30th.  As Traci said,  "We're all adults now, right?"   :)

So as the storm fades and that storm-colored yellow/gray sky starts to clear a bit, I find myself oddly calm. The furiousness of the storm has been a mini emotional release. I'm meeting Mads, her brother and her dad at Great Wolf Lodge next week. I'm looking forward to playing in the water and getting out from the heat. Because like the weather, things hit the boiling point today and having vented the steam, I'm looking forward to the calm and the visit with my dad.

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

Hola mi amor...

96/100

I don't know what it is about Mexico. I don't know if it is the food, the people, the culture, the ocean... but there is something about Mexico. When I come here, I feel so much better. I feel like I can breathe. Or perhaps I just remember to. The first day we got here, the woman that picked us up had to stop at a wedding on our way to the condo. All I wanted was a shower, but the wedding was lovely...

flower girl

Granted when I am here, I get to live a 'fantasy' life. There is something to be said for that. For staying in a penthouse with this view:

bedroom view

There is something nice about laughing with friends and understanding the 'quirks' of Mexican electrical wiring. About drinking fresh orange juice on the porch and listening to the surf in the morning. About little land crabs that come to a wedding as a surprise guest!

land crab

There is something wonderful about sleeping in... not *having* to get up early unless I want to. Last night it thundered and there was so much lightning I asked for mercy from the Mayan "Chaac" who strikes the clouds with his lightning axe to produce rain and thunder. He was certainly busy last night. :)

bit too much sun!

I've already had a bit too much sun, I've spent a few too many hours in the pool, but it doesn't matter. I'll survive the sunburn and I'll move from spf 50 to spf 70 and not care.

bedroom view

I remember when I was in college and when things in my life got dicey, I'd run away to Mexico. Culminating with hitchhiking through Mexico with a friend and sleeping in a whore house. Swimming with the whales... ah those were the days. I don't know that hitch hiking through Mexico these days would be such a good idea... people seem to 'disappear' a bit too frequently around here for that... which is a shame. Because this country, these people are good people and being here is still an amazing adventure. And apparently? For me? It still works as a balm to my soul to be here. Last night I ate shrimp the size of your hand, with their heads still on. I did not, no matter how much Zimmern says it is tasty, suck the stuff out of the head. I ate their tails and enjoyed some tequila served in a cucumber (it was some unlabeled tequila... and *yes* omg it was good) and laughed all the way back to the condo.

shrimp and steak

tequila in cucumber glasses

I am enjoying this vacation. I really needed it. It's been a long year from this point last year... a divorce, my dad's heart attack and thyroid cancer, my best friend's situation...

eternity pool

Although this time? I'm not running away to Mexico. I don't feel like I need to escape here. I'm older and I'm not looking to 'find' myself here either. When I lived in Guadalajara, when I traveled here before, it was always with this edge of longing. Of feeling a bit lost. Of hoping I'd find part of myself in Mexico. I've matured a great deal from those days.  I know more now about who I am. For me? Returning to Mexico is returning to the embrace of an old love. The feelings are still there, but they are just a deep simmer instead of a raging fire. I'm not saying I won't get into a bit of trouble... and hey... the pool guy is *so* cute ;), but I am not here for an adventure (although adventures *do* tend to find me) I'm here to relax and recharge. And honestly? I don't know of a better place or country to do that. 

My friend on the balcony drinking fresh orange juice

Even with her bumps and bruises of being in a bad situation right now, Mexico is a land of great beauty and great pride. I feel honored to be here, I feel enamored with her charm and grace. And I am humbled by the generosity of friends who have allowed me time here to reconnect with my battery, recharge my spirit and look forward to all I have to accomplish this summer. I appreciate all the friends back in Washington who are staying with my cat, watching my garden, watching my house, etc. That helped make this happen for me. 

beach waves in Ixtapa

Gracias mis amores. Gracias.

Paz,

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