Soul Mosaic

The Yo-Yo

When we were kids, everyone had a Yo-Yo. For sure, we dreamed of making our toy do all the tricks they showed on TV, though most of us failed.

Yet we were happy just to keep that disc going up and down as long as possible. You could feel the initial energy in the string as you whipped the wooden disc downward, then felt that disc shoot right back up.

But eventually, the “energy” stored in the string would start to wane. The disc would drop down, but only return halfway, then a quarter, until finally, it just stopped and dangled there, inert at the end of its string.

Then you would either take the disc, rewind the string around it, and start over, or give up and put the toy away.

That was a good description of my life.

Cycles

“Surviving under such conditions puts a constant, draining demand on both body and mind. Each day stretches the limits of your endurance, siphoning your energy as if simply making it through is a battle you fight over and over again. The weight of this exhaustion is invisible, but it’s there…a cycle that leaves no room for rest or reflection…the brain, molded by the forces of environment and experience, turns its focus inward. The aperture narrows to the present moment, obscuring potential dreams and possibilities….blur any vision of the future, making it difficult to see beyond the pressing needs of now.”

Daria Burke, pg 72, Of My Own Making

My life was like a Yo-Yo. I’d push forward for a while, then just run out of steam and dangle helplessly. It was the cycle of being pushed to my limits and beyond, then collapsing. Each time, I thought it was the last and my life was over.

Yet, after a period of dormant despair, I’d feel the tug of a tiny spark deep within. I don’t know why it was there, but it was. Just a tiny ember of hope waiting to be fed kindling, then small sticks, until it was nursed into a real fire.

So, after a long period of giving up, just as in the past…and as would be in my future, I would regroup, pull me back together, and try again for a way to make things better.

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The painting: Entry Forbidden

By my mid-20s, I watched everyone around me move on into their adult life, relationships, and marriages. They moved in a world that I was denied entry to. I was an outsider who had nothing, no one, no hope of anything. I felt like a freak and an aberration of nature. Hiding my secret part of life left me feeling so dirty and shameful. I was just at my wits’ end.

And he was always leering at me, and after me. Even if I tried to reach for someone in my life, I just felt like no one could or would love me if they knew what I had to do to survive. So I gave up. I avoided him as much as I could until his rage was unbearable, then just let him have his way. I was the walking dead…

Facing “the failures”

Even though, as I do this and find it is necessary and worth it, there’s nothing like writing about the “failure periods” of your life to flood you with shame. The more you dig to heal, the more of those times that come up. Their sting still throbs, and maybe more intensely now, because revisiting them feels like you are freshly slicing open scarred-over wounds. They stand there before you in all their stark reality, with no way to sugar-coat what they were or escape what you felt. The only choice is to run but then never heal, or to face them fully head-on and just hurt as you look closer for what really happened, and wait for the understanding and acceptance that will transform them.

Now the truth is, I was doing the best I could at any point; it’s just that it wasn’t enough to measure up to what life demands of an adult. And maybe “failure period” was an unfair judgment rendered by my critical self. Maybe it wasn’t so much “failure” as the obvious outcome because of what he’d taken from me all those years. But either way, the reality is that I had a golden opportunity with the job at the UCONN Health Center lab, a chance to build a solid career path, and I blew it. There’s no other way to say it – I wasn’t measuring up…I couldn’t…

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The questions that shamed me for so long

I was talking with a friend one day who knew of my background, so I felt safe. But her question froze me, then filled me with shame.

“Did you move back home after college?”

She meant nothing by it, just an informational question more than anything. But for me, I hated the answer, and myself for it. I couldn’t even look at her.

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Today’s Last Gift Quote:

If you are not willing to learn, no one can help you. If you are determined to learn, no one can stop you.

Zig Ziglar

Happy Thanksgiving and a return!

Just a heartfelt Happy Thanksgiving to all reading this! I wish each person a peaceful day and much love.

After a lovely 70th birthday celebration and visit with my immediate family, I will resume my writing journey. There will be one last “gift post” tomorrow (Friday) along with a new memoir post.

Thank you for your patience, and again, Happy Thanksgiving!

Today’s Gift Quote:

You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.

Attributed to C.S. Lewis

The explanation for this, from the previous posting:

A celebration of life in the present

I have been sharing many deep and painful things. And it is helpful for me to speak openly and feel “worthy.” But I also do this process while staying grounded in the present and celebrating life’s current gifts.

A current gift is that this month is my 70th birthday. I will be taking the coming week off to share time with my family and savor the joys of each other’s company. AND celebrate that I have my wonderful family.

As important as this writing process is, it needs to be paced well for my health, and it needs to be connected to the joy of my present life, filled with love.

My “gift posts”

While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.

The gift post will include this post’s text (for context to anyone new). But at the top of each new day’s post will also be a quote — one of the many I keep handy to feed my soul as I write. That will be my gift to all while I am celebrating.

The painting is also part of the gift posts. While I worked at the museum, there was a small puffer fish in one of the aquariums. When I needed a moment’s break from things, I would stand by the tank. The puffer fish would always come right up to the window and hover there. I don’t know what it was thinking, but I hope it was happy. He seemed to linger longest whenever there was a group of happy children waving at him. So one day I took his picture and painted him. So, as part of this gift, I leave you with the puffer fish.

When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.

In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:

This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.

(more…)

Today’s Gift Quote:

Start by doing what’s necessary, then do what’s possible, and suddenly you’re doing the impossible.

St. Francis of Assisi

The explanation for this, from the previous posting:

A celebration of life in the present

I have been sharing many deep and painful things. And it is helpful for me to speak openly and feel “worthy.” But I also do this process while staying grounded in the present and celebrating life’s current gifts.

A current gift is that this month is my 70th birthday. I will be taking the coming week off to share time with my family and savor the joys of each other’s company. AND celebrate that I have my wonderful family.

As important as this writing process is, it needs to be paced well for my health, and it needs to be connected to the joy of my present life, filled with love.

My “gift posts”

While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.

The gift post will include this post’s text (for context to anyone new). But at the top of each new day’s post will also be a quote — one of the many I keep handy to feed my soul as I write. That will be my gift to all while I am celebrating.

The painting is also part of the gift posts. While I worked at the museum, there was a small puffer fish in one of the aquariums. When I needed a moment’s break from things, I would stand by the tank. The puffer fish would always come right up to the window and hover there. I don’t know what it was thinking, but I hope it was happy. He seemed to linger longest whenever there was a group of happy children waving at him. So one day I took his picture and painted him. So, as part of this gift, I leave you with the puffer fish.

When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.

In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:

This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.

(more…)

Today’s Gift Quote:

When writing the story of your life, don’t let anybody else hold the pen.

Harley Davidson

The explanation for this, from the previous posting:

A celebration of life in the present

I have been sharing many deep and painful things. And it is helpful for me to speak openly and feel “worthy.” But I also do this process while staying grounded in the present and celebrating life’s current gifts.

A current gift is that this month is my 70th birthday. I will be taking the coming week off to share time with my family and savor the joys of each other’s company. AND celebrate that I have my wonderful family.

As important as this writing process is, it needs to be paced well for my health, and it needs to be connected to the joy of my present life, filled with love.

My “gift posts”

While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.

The gift post will include this post’s text (for context to anyone new). But at the top of each new day’s post will also be a quote — one of the many I keep handy to feed my soul as I write. That will be my gift to all while I am celebrating.

The painting is also part of the gift posts. While I worked at the museum, there was a small puffer fish in one of the aquariums. When I needed a moment’s break from things, I would stand by the tank. The puffer fish would always come right up to the window and hover there. I don’t know what it was thinking, but I hope it was happy. He seemed to linger longest whenever there was a group of happy children waving at him. So one day I took his picture and painted him. So, as part of this gift, I leave you with the puffer fish.

When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.

In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:

This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.

(more…)

Today’s Gift Quote:

When you’re in a dark place, you sometimes tend to think you’ve been buried.
Perhaps you’ve been planted.
Bloom.

Christine Caine

The explanation for this, from the previous posting:

A celebration of life in the present

I have been sharing many deep and painful things. And it is helpful for me to speak openly and feel “worthy.” But I also do this process while staying grounded in the present and celebrating life’s current gifts.

A current gift is that this month is my 70th birthday. I will be taking the coming week off to share time with my family and savor the joys of each other’s company. AND celebrate that I have my wonderful family.

As important as this writing process is, it needs to be paced well for my health, and it needs to be connected to the joy of my present life, filled with love.

My “gift posts”

While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.

The gift post will include this post’s text (for context to anyone new). But at the top of each new day’s post will also be a quote — one of the many I keep handy to feed my soul as I write. That will be my gift to all while I am celebrating.

The painting is also part of the gift posts. While I worked at the museum, there was a small puffer fish in one of the aquariums. When I needed a moment’s break from things, I would stand by the tank. The puffer fish would always come right up to the window and hover there. I don’t know what it was thinking, but I hope it was happy. He seemed to linger longest whenever there was a group of happy children waving at him. So one day I took his picture and painted him. So, as part of this gift, I leave you with the puffer fish.

When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.

In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:

This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.

(more…)

Today’s Gift Quote:

At the end of the day, it’s not about what you have or even what you have accomplished…It’s about who you’ve lifted up, who you’ve made better. It’s about what you’ve given back.

Denzel Washington

The explanation for this, from the previous posting:

A celebration of life in the present

I have been sharing many deep and painful things. And it is helpful for me to speak openly and feel “worthy.” But I also do this process while staying grounded in the present and celebrating life’s current gifts.

A current gift is that this month is my 70th birthday. I will be taking the coming week off to share time with my family and savor the joys of each other’s company. AND celebrate that I have my wonderful family.

As important as this writing process is, it needs to be paced well for my health, and it needs to be connected to the joy of my present life, filled with love.

My “gift posts”

While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.

The gift post will include this post’s text (for context to anyone new). But at the top of each new day’s post will also be a quote — one of the many I keep handy to feed my soul as I write. That will be my gift to all while I am celebrating.

The painting is also part of the gift posts. While I worked at the museum, there was a small puffer fish in one of the aquariums. When I needed a moment’s break from things, I would stand by the tank. The puffer fish would always come right up to the window and hover there. I don’t know what it was thinking, but I hope it was happy. He seemed to linger longest whenever there was a group of happy children waving at him. So one day I took his picture and painted him. So, as part of this gift, I leave you with the puffer fish.

When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.

In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:

This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.

(more…)