Friday, May 6, 2011

Blind sided -

Every once and while, or fairly regularly, life smacks me right upside the head. To that end, I have been swirling.

Here I meant to have a perfectly reasonable spring (despite its hesitant appearance in West Michigan) and yet, what a MESS. I've vowed not to talk about my children except en masse, and won't ... although I'd really love to. The no longer youngins' are moving and shaking these days and, as always, it's been a dazzling display of testosterone. Of note, my personal desire to rescue them from what I think is certain peril and impending doom is no longer as strong as it once was. Oh, my love for them has done nothing but increase ... but somewhere within the last year, my mind AND heart seem more willing to allow them to grow up. To hug them goodbye w/out tears. Not to call out, "I LOVE YOU!" as they are walking to their vehicle of choice. Oh, I still smile to myself often during the day when a thought/memory or inside-my-head visual makes me remember one of them in a particular instance. I still tear up when thinking about certain subject matters in their young lives. I still actually cry out loud when recounting traumas of their youths. But although I will admit to the occasional sleepless "child heart ache" night, they don't come as often as they used to and when they do, I'm more likely to be MISSING them than wanting to share an opinion with them. Not missing the "good old days" of their youths, but the right now of their adulthoods. I'm missing My Sons The Men. Who's doing the growing up here?

Here, I was really just gearing up w/the childhood stories and was full of memories of days spent rolling down my back hill in a packing barrel, building my first double decker tree fort, and Bridge Crossers. (Of course, this all happened once I was allowed to cross my gravel driveway and enter the REAL backyard ... as opposed to the well manicured "circle." A misnomer if there ever was one.) But blam ... life. Right in the kisser.

This whole Dressing Your Truth thing has been fun. MORE than fun. Nay, an almost obsession until I realized I don't really GO anywhere and yeah, it's great to feel confidently clothed while lying in repose in a 1k sq. foot apt. watching "Law and Order" reruns, but REALLY. Does it matter?

Yes. And No.

Yes. When disabled and life as I'd known it has been stripped away it's kind of good for the soul not to look like I feel. And Yes. I actually like looking decent. And Yes. It is good.

Yet, NO, it is not. It is NOT all about Dressing My Truth, it's more about LIVING My Truth. This isn't my invention. Carol Tuttle, a woman with whom I do not always agree but HIGHLY RESPECT, has really done some amazing "energy work" with countless women, one at a time. I've had to come face to face with who I REALLY am. I can tell you it's "Just My Nature" to think I'm actually pretty fantastic (able bodied or not,) and it's "Just My Nature" not to care all that much about those poor slobs without a shred of good sense who disagree. It's also "Just My Nature" to hurt like hell on the insides and not show it on the outside as it's "Just My Nature" to Remain Composed to all who do not know me. (Those that Know Me know that my composure is sometimes shaky at best.) To quote a child I once knew, "They hurt me on the insides." Yes. Badly. Who they? In the end, it does not matter.

Just an aside ... a few days ago as I was knitting fast and furiously to finish a sweater for a son, I clipped the end of a woven in "end" only to discover I CUT A HOLE IN HIS SWEATER. Now, it's important to know said son did not receive this sweater On Time (which is Extremely Important to me.) WHY? Because I made myself ask this very difficult question for a perfectionist to answer, "Will this matter in five years?" The obvious answer is, "Nope." I had to call myself by name and say to myself out loud, "Put the sweater down and walk away. Do not attempt to fix it. Do not attempt to rescue it. Put the sweater down and walk away." Which I did for two whole days.

But I digress. The point is, the real question I have been having to ask myself, about pretty much anything right now, is Will This Matter in Five Years? And what's dawned on me, almost like an electric shock, is that NO, a great deal of what I do will not. I am not pleased about this. I am not pleased that I will miss an online forum where I very much felt "At Home in the World" (thank you, Joyce Maynard.) I am not pleased to forgo witty repartee with the like minded. I am not pleased to have been hurt by some Thoughtless and Insincere women who used such disgustingly DYT PC language that I wanted to hurl all over my T4 bathrobe. I am not pleased at At All.

So after making a pronouncement I wish I had taken more time to consider, I now have to make good on my word. Because really. I Do Not Lie. After removing my Indignant Hands from my keyboard and putting it to sleep, I had to ask myself The Question. WILL this matter in five years? Nope. So now what? I've seen all the reruns of every episode of "Law and Order" at least ten times. Ask any of the sons ... or any of my close friends, for that matter. Even "30 Rock" isn't doing it for me anymore. Documentaries are depressing the daylights right out of me.

So now what?

NOW I get to put my time where my mouth is (the money is looooong gone.) NOW I have to Live My Truth. Will this stand up to the scrutiny of the question of all questions? WILL This Matter in Five Years?

Yes, it will.

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