It’s been too long since I have been here and written. Two posts ago I noticed the title was where did the summer go…so yeah. Let’s catch up. I finally fixed the blog this morning so it has a link with my analytics. That took forever. This was supposed to be the summer of me. It was my first summer without kids and without schoolwork. I feel like my train got derailed or rerouted I am not sure which. I had this whole mental list of things I “wanted” to do. These were not things for myself really, just things around the house I felt needed to be accomplished. Cleaning out cupboards, filing papers, caulking something, and doing a few personal projects. Here we are the last week of summer break, I got back to work Thursday, not even a full week and it has me reflecting. I feel like the past six months have been nothing but reflection but that’s not a bad thing.
This morning my husband left for his weekly out-of-town work. I called to say hi and see how the drive was going and he asked what I was doing today. I said I was taking it slow. I am taking this entire week slow. I decided that yesterday when I missed a breakfast with friends because well, my brain was fried. I had a bloody nose over the weekend that lasted four-plus hours and I had to go to the doctor. Got that cauterized. Then I lost a friend to breast cancer. She is slightly younger than myself but she has an eight-year-old daughter. It’s excruciatingly sad. She lived in Boston and I hadn’t seen her in years. I watched her online go from this vibrant healthy mom to this person trying desperately to beat cancer. Guilty feelings flood into my head for not contributing to her GoFundMe account. I still can but, she is gone. All those things with her daughter who she loved so much she will miss, and the daughter was mostly a miracle at the age of my friend’s life when she got pregnant. Death makes you reaccess things. So when I said to my husband I was taking it slow I realized I took the summer slow. It wasn’t intentional at all. Was it what I needed and I gave it to myself without thinking about it? Maybe. At the time when I was taking it slow I wasn’t giving myself grace, I was frustrated. Why am I so hard on myself? My typical response would be that I have high expectations of myself. Aren’t we all complicated…
What else have I been working on? Grace for my body. Grace for myself as a whole. I am who I am and I am how I am right…not that easy. How do I look in clothes, how do I look naked, how do I look, it’s this constant awareness. There are times when it isn’t and I am not aware, but it’s mostly when I am alone. Mirrors, windows, and reflections are my least favorite and can be triggering. Yesterday I went to look for some clothes. Someone on social media inspired me over the past few weeks to be who I am. It’s going to be slow as it is quite a task to just “be” with myself. Anyways, this lady showcases clothing. Inclusive size clothing and for mostly decent prices. So I watched a bunch of her Instagram reels and watched some videos on Facebook on some pieces of clothing I really liked. I have been looking in stores all summer and haven’t found anything that sparks joy. I need some new items. Jeans! I have been missing jeans. But they just don’t feel good on my skin. Thank you perimenopause. She had some nice jeans, but the online shop was out of them so I have been searching and found them today. I am not a fan of buying clothes online but when I went to the store yesterday I was shocked at the limited selection. And as someone who likes a longer shirt they seem to keep getting shorter. I did find a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt yesterday. Then I bought perfume which I totally didn’t need but the bottle was so pretty and the smell was amazing. This week I need to go through my closet and do a reset for it and for myself. I did find a shirt this woman had on but she wasn’t showcasing it. Everyone loved this shirt and there were comments all over a few posts about how people loved it and where was it from. You know it took me like two weeks but I found it. Well shit, it was Magnolia Pearl. Well, that’s why it wasn’t showcased. Holy shit, or should I say holy shirt. The reason I love this woman and how she shows clothing is because she is my age and similar in shape and size to me. Found the shirt out of stock a few places and thought it wasn’t meant to be. Then one more search and I found it. Hemmed and hawed about it for a few days and finally pulled the trigger. I was sweating it because it was “one size”….this could go horribly wrong but I knew I could resell it. The magnificent shirt showed up last week. It’s as beautiful in person. Too much money well spent on joy and living once. Today I saw a picture…black and white, a little road heading somewhere into the distance. Heart-shaped clouds hung in the sky. The words across the picture read, “Don’t ever save anything for a special occasion. Being alive is a special occasion.” So I put on Bastille and sat to write.
Did you know I was named after a famous poet? Turns out Bastille wrote a song about her and our name is in it. A few weeks ago this song came out and it struck a cord. All the medical stuff I have gone through for the past few years has been draining. I felt like I lost myself. In the song, part of the chorus is that she was never lost. It still makes me cry sometimes. I felt lost but all along I was still there somehow lost connection with my deepest self. Slowly it’s coming back. When I was younger I was religious. I loved Amy Grant and Michael W Smith. I still listen to Amy sometimes as it helps me connect to that younger person. Michael W Smith also wrote a song with my name. I remember going to a concert and he started to sing this song and I had to sit down and cry. It was everything I was feeling as a teenager. My whole younger self just wanted someone to believe in her. And that is what the song was about. It really encapsulated the orphan feeling I had and have. Looking back scrolling through the songs of these two people and the songs I listened to, if I hadn’t had them and their lyrics and religion I am not sure what would’ve happened to me. These words and notes kept me connected to something bigger than myself and kept me holding onto hope. All of this stuff that I am mentioning I have not mentioned in this blog previously. I don’t like to talk about my past on here, I try to keep it to mental health and being progressive. We cannot move forward without acknowledging the past as it has contributed to where we are now. Our life is like a filing cabinet, all the files have importance in some way and the older files have relation to the newer files whether we like it or not. Isn’t it amazing when you listen to a song you haven’t heard in YEARS but you remember all the words?
This place is important to me. I need to come to spend time here more because I love putting words down. Writing makes my brain feel release. I love to see the words in print that were in my head. Goals, I always end with goals and hopes. Goals are to come here at least once every two weeks. Twice a month. Find grace for me whenever I can. I deserve to be happy and to feel good about myself, it’s just not easy. The big goal would be to live like every day is a special occasion, because well, time is not guaranteed.