I never knew daylight could be so violent/A revelation in the light of day/You can't choose what stays and what fades away

It's no secret that i have been struggling on several fronts lately.  I have been working my *ass* off lately though, trying to be closer to myself, to feel human, to feel normal again. To not feel like a freak, or like I am inadequate or wrong, misshapen, or like i don't belong.  I have had some extremely painful growth and realizations lately, about my life as an attorney, a mother, a lover, a wife.  Yesterday, I snapped. 

Like a volcano, I completely erupted. No, I can't say it was like a volcano, it was more like I felt exhausted and beaten down, and tired and defeated, but yesterday, I felt like a fire sparked and awakened the consciousness inside the weakened zombie body and mind I have been living in the past few months.  Everything came to a head on a couple of fronts in particular, and for the first time in months, I put my foot down.  No; I not only put my foot down, (sorry to wax geek here, but I can't help the awesome parallel) I slammed my staff down in a Gandalf -like fashion and screamed 'you shall not pass.'  I finally had the guts to ask myself and those around me, how many times does something have to happen before it's not okay? My hyper-keen sense of justice awakened once again and rose above the smoke and guided me, once again, in the right direction.

What put even more heat in the situation, is that I had this revelation in the middle of my day, in the middle of a courtroom, waiting to see a judge.  A couple of days ago, I asked, no, begged, the universe for some sort of epiphany or movement in my heart and mind. But as the lyrics in my subject line state, 'I never knew daylight could be so violent.'  And oh, how violent it was.  Directly after two difficult criminal clients, a difficult court appearance, traveling all day, and then receiving a piece of news via text that challenged me, it was as though a flare of white-hot anger coursed through my body, and I awakened from a painful, nightmare-filled sleep.

Yesterday, I had SO much movement and progress in a few fronts in my life.  Because I haven't felt much of anything, the anger I first felt was intoxicating. It felt GOOD to feel anything besides numbness, hopelessness, fear, or sadness.  It felt good to feel something that prompted me to draw a line and to assert myself.

I am still angry concerning a couple of items, but while anger isn't always productive, I can't say that about this angry energy.  It has forced me to work through some things and to see the good and benefit of lessons I had to learn and go through, as well as lessons the people close to me had to go through.  It's surprising what will stay with you or what you can walk away from after an epiphany-type moment like i had yesterday. 

I am still emotional.  I go from relief to anger to peacefulness to wanting more answers. Regardless of what I feel, a drive remains  and continues to fuel me.  Constantly feeling like I have purpose, and that feeling of purpose and awareness is relieving on so many levels. 

My facebook post earlier said that I'm starting to feel more like my old self, but I no longer think that is accurate.  I think a better statement is that I am feeling sentient once again, but I am no longer my old self.  I am a LAZ that has done a significant amount of changing and growth over the past couple of years. So of COURSE I'm not the same person. I feel like I have been put though a meat grinder. I feel like I have burst into flames and have risen from the ashes.  I feel like I am finally able to draw lines and definitions again that help me remember where I am, where I have been, and where I will go.  I am not saying everything is 100% better. I still have a long way to go.  But I could not have gotten anywhere without this dam breaking.

An interesting side note to this, is that I have also been in survival mode over the past two years. I however have had the fortune of having a wonderful turn of growth in my business which has afforded me the ability to move from survival mode to goal setting.  I haven't set personal or professional goals for myself in over two years.  It feels good to have this opportunity, while at the same time, the ability and courage to draw lines where I need to draw them to remain autonomous and loving and balanced and everything I want to be for myself and for those I love.

"You wept but your soul was willing."

Normally I have so many things to say.  I have so many subjects on which I can pontificate. but not today.  Not lately.  Now, I am frozen.  I can't think anymore. I am overwhelmed.   It's like i have shut down.  I have started seeing a therapist.  She tells me that it's no wonder that I feel this way, with all that I have taken on. To sum up, I have chosen certain paths to take in my life, like anyone does, because I saw the benefit and reward of those paths to me.  However, with reward there also comes risk.  There are challenges to every path. It just so happens that I have taken some particularly difficult paths.  I have done so willingly; I have done so because while my life is busy and complicated, I generally find it rewarding. 

But right now, I am struggling.  I am struggling because I have taken on too much.  I am struggling to find my identity within each role I play every day.  I am struggling to keep faith, and to know and appreciate that providence still smiles upon me though I don't quite see it right now.  I am struggling to see the good in things these days.  I have become a cynical version of myself that beats up on my normal self, and I don't really like it. 

So the question becomes how do I simplify my life?  How do I try to take my life less seriously?  (It's only life, after all).  I can't and won't go backwards. I need to figure out how to move forward while at the same time creating space for forgiveness--of myself.  I am without a doubt my own worst enemy.

I am committing to writing a new blog each week henceforth, in order to get things off my chest, and to unload, and give myself some more room.  More room to breathe. More room to allow myself to feel. More room to try to be human again and feel normal. 

This is the worst blog ever, but I just have nothing left to say beyond this.

Fear

I am afraid.  I have fears, like everyone does. I am under an unusually high amount of stress at present, which is making my fears and insecurities rise up a little more than usual.  I am trying to take some of them on right now, because I have noticed them creeping up and affecting my daily life, but this is a far more difficult task than I had imagined.  My fears are encouraging me to rest comfortably in my chair and not to worry about it. 'Have a cup of tea,' they say. 'Read the book your friend just gave you.'   You see, my fears know that if I don't do anything about it, I don't have to take some really tough issues head on. If I don't do anything about it, I don't have to challenge myself or grow or change.  If I don't do anything about it, I am safe. 

But if I stay within the safety of those fears, I do not grow, and not growing and learning is by far, scarier than any other fear I have.  The idea of staying safe is somewhat counter-intuitive to me, because I, as P would tell me, am an explorer.  It's not that I like to explore strange new worlds and galaxies right away.  I like to exlore in a different way.  I like to find my boundaries, and push on the boundaries i know are there.  I like to push the envelope.  I like to think of it as not thinking outside the box, but being in a box of known rules and limitations, and pushing on that to see how I can get that box to bend and twist to my ideas and concepts.  Once I understand how my ideas fit within that box, I will then move on to a different area.

But sometimes, I have an idea or concept proposed to me, that will really throw me for a loop.  And while I like to be challenged in some ways, I don't like being constantly challenged or crippled by my fears. I hate that I have sleepless nights and I feel like someone punched me in the stomach sometimes.  I hate that my fears affect my relationships.  Worst of all, I hate that my son notices. It's time to put some of my fears to rest.  I need to face my challenges not just for me, but so I can have a better relationship with the people in my life.   Well, how the hell do you put fears to rest? I ran across an article from Dr. Phil, and while normally, I would scoff and roll my eyes and sigh in contempt because I can't stand Dr. Phil, this article actually had some interesting points that piqued my interest.  The biggest thing I took away from it is that all fears boil down to control--either losing it, or being out of control, and the best way to combat that sense of loss of control, is to change your inner dialogue regarding that fear. So for example, if you fear flying because you will crash and die, combat your fear by replacing that dialogue with rational, fact based dialogue. 

I am not particularly interested in broadcasting my specific fears at present--that makes me a little more vulnerable than I wish to be in public at present.  But I am working. Diligently.  I will stumble, and the road will not be an easy one, but it is one I am willing to take.

Giving up the gun

In my attempts to improve my articulation and story-telling skills, I stated previously that I would blog more. So, here you go!

I have been thinking about the song 'giving up the gun' by Vampire Weekend a lot lately.  I think the song greatly parallels how my January went down.  The chorus goes something like:

Your sword’s grown old and rusty
Burnt beneath the rising sun
It’s locked up like a trophy
Forgetting all the things it’s done

And though it’s been a long time
You’re right back where you started from
I see it in your eyes
That now you’re giving up the gun

The song is inspired by a book called Giving up the Gun, which is about a movement in Japanese military to revert back from gun usage to sword usage (think the last Samurai).  The point of the song, according to Koenig, explores whether it is feasible or imaginable that people could give up the things they have and go back to a simpler way of life.

While I think that is a great question, it lead me to think about not just whether I could go back to a simpler m.o,, but whether, when coming back full circle, I could recognize and appreciate from an alternative standpoint, where I am. 

The people I encountered in the contract position were so broken down and dejected, and trying so hard to be something that they probably are not meant to be, but told what they should probably aspire to be, that they were just messes.  It's like they were a bunch of square pegs trying to fit in round holes.  It was sad.  It made me not want to chisel the pegs, but break down the round holes and make them more square-like.

I then remembered that my path is okay for ME, and I am where I am supposed to be right now. It's funny how sometimes it takes intentionally and clearly stepping off of your path to remember that you are exactly where you are supposed to be.

The contract did not last long.  My availability waned quickly during my time there because my business in Lansing picked up, and I could not pass on these opportunities. This month has been absolutely explosive since.   I abhorred the work I did in Kzoo but I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to see that sometimes the thing you think is the great new big thing you are supposed to do, is not necessarily the right answer, and if you bring it back around to center and accept your path, you will grow exponentially.

It's amazing how productive you can be when you are candid with yourself and accept the way you feel about things.

Breathe on, little sister.

January has been an absolutely wicked month for me.  I have felt like I am completely under the gun, but I think the insanity is finally waning, which gives me an opportunity to reflect on all that has happened this month. 

I have had SO much personal and professional growth and I am still processing it all. I have learned two main lessons, I think, this month.  First, I learned (or reaffirmed, rather?) that I have to take risks to grow, and trust that people will walk with me and grow with me. It doesn't matter if it's personal or professional.  I have countless examples.  Professional connections, trying skiing for the first time, developing personal relationships--all instances are great examples that remind me that if I put myself out there, I can do it.  It may not be easy. It may not be fun.  But I will improve, I will learn, and I will grow. 

Second, I was given great perspective on my own life and reminded that I am actually doing pretty well.  I had some time where I was feeling dejected and frustrated about everything.  But this month has been one lesson after another that has reminded me that no, I actually have it pretty good.  I have amazing people in my life that I love and who love me back, a career that is exploding, and so long as I keep putting myself out there, and taking risks, things will continue to happen. 

So while it is has been an exhilarating month, it has been an exhausting month. At this point, I am just sitting at home, trying to process everything I have taken in. The Chinese New Year is tomorrow, and it is the year of the dragon.  I am a dragon in Chinese astrology.  I feel like there is an awesome shift coming, and this is my time.  So I am going to take it and run with it.

On a somewhat related note, one of the major life altering events this month was that I participated in the Hillman Trial Advocacy Program, which was AWESOME.  It made me understand that very few lawyers are born, rather, they are made.  With that being said, I want to improve my story telling skills.  So you will be seeing a lot more blogging from me!  <3

Sweetness Follows

I'm craving sweetness. Not in the sense that I want to shovel in three pounds of sugar, but sweetness in the mundane.  I regularly tell PRC that while I love excitement, there is sweetness in the mundane.  There's something sweet that I relish in moments of sitting at a dining room table drinking tea and blogging/intermittently staring out the window, while my beloved sifts through a gaming suppliment.

The moments of sweetness give me hope that, amidst all the storms I have endured lately, there are times of calm. These moments make me remember that the universe is listening to me, and is giving me balance.  Balance also gives me hope. I am reminded lately that like the tides, all things ebb and flow.

I have reflected on my past, and  have been reading some old blogs--seeing how a pendulum can swing over the course of just a couple of years is fascinating and comforting from a bird's eye view.  The pendulum has been swinging far to one side over the past couple of years, and it's starting to swing back. I can feel the universe shifting around me. I can feel that another change is upon me, and it is one for the good. I suspect I know what it is--I know what I want it to be.  I want it so badly in fact, I can taste it. 

That strong desire for the pendulum swing frightens me a little--the universe has proven to me time and again, especially lately, that things will indeed work out.  I guess I am just hoping that they will work out in a certain way, I fear I will not maintain an open mind if they do not. I need to remember to keep my mind and my heart open. 

And Other Things

It’s a shame to collect on messes like this one. God knows I have dealt with countless numbers of them, for what has seemed like an eternity. There is a light breeze from a ceiling fan. The home office is decorated in somewhat of an Art-Deco fashion. Polished wood paneling, nature scenes by Monet on canvass, a large mahogany desk with a Tiffany lamp. Potted palms sit on either side of the French doors that lead to the veranda. The faint smell of lemon oil is in the air. The housekeeper polished the floor just earlier today. He liked them to shine. A red oriental rug is on the floor which makes the blood that flowed from his veins harder to spot.

The Rain, The Park and Other Things by the Coswills is playing on repeat in the background. I always liked that song. It seems ironic that someone of my ilk would like that song. People always assume that it would be heavy metal or something dark and brooding that would suit our tastes. Or perhaps not music at all--rather, the sounds of lamentations and weeping would be music to our ears. Not so. Well, sure, some of my colleagues would disagree, but me, I like something a little more chipper. It gets me through the day.

I made him let himself go slowly. One cut to the arm. When I step on the rug, the blood seeps up around my shoe. He had a lot of time to think about what would have helped him change. Clearly, it wasn’t upbeat pop music from the British Invasion.

I wonder if he was he feeling alone. Was he lamenting not talking to that girl he saw in the park that one rainy summer day 23 years ago? Is that why he chose this song? Did he regret cheating on that chemistry exam in college? Did he regret removing his wedding band when he was out for drinks? Did he regret skipping his daughter’s 4^thgrade Christmas play? Did he regret lying to his partner about the deal that cost his partner millions but made him just as much?

No, there were no regrets over any of that. He lived life to the fullest. He took his risks. He did what he had to do. Everyone knew what he was. He was successful and powerful. The community would never accuse him of being fair or kind, but they would always admire him for what he built and his rise to power. He was respected, but feared. You don’t get to the top without stepping on a few heads, and using a few karma points, after all.

I knew he was ready a few weeks ago. He was in the bathroom, washing his face. As he lifted his head to look from the porcelain sink to his own reflection, he had a memory flash about an event a couple of years ago in a cheap motel in the middle of Nevada. He got a hooker for the night. She looked like the girl from the park. He liked that about her because he always lamented not talking to her that one day 23 years ago, and he considered this a bit of a do-over. He beat her and left her for dead. When he was finished, he went to the bathroom in the hotel room to wash his face. The dull hum of the old bathroom fan was grating against his ears, but it didn't matter--he would be gone soon anyway. He looked up in the mirror and smiled, because he knew there would be no consequences. He left and never knew what happened to the girl. When he looked in the mirror a few weeks ago, he smiled again, thinking of how he still had ‘it.’ The guilt that often rings in a person’s head like the gentle yet persistent hum of a fan, much like the fan that was in that motel bathroom, just wasn’t there. It was time for me to collect.

Today was a partly cloudy day. 73 degrees. There was a nice breeze from the ocean coming in through the French doors. He just saved a million dollars by closing one of his factories. He decided to head home early. He put on some music and sat at his desk to read the Times and drink his Turkish coffee. He always liked the way the house keeper made the coffee just right. He was perfectly at ease. It was time for him to hear that persistent hum he had been ignoring for so long.

He thought first of the girl in the hotel. He thought of the girl in the park. The hum got louder, more like the buzz. He turned the music up, fiddled with the speaker wires. Made a mental note to have someone check out his equipment--it was top quality, after all. He noticed the peculiar feeling started to set in--one he hasn never felt before. His heart was sinking and dread started to consume him. I made him remember what it felt like when he threw a punch at the hooker. He looked down to his arm, and noticed the scar she had left when she kicked him with his stiletto. He remembered the scuffed white shoe and the smear of his blood that left with it, and how she paid for marking his flawless skin. He thought about the people who were rendered jobless or homeless for his business decisions. He thought about his daughter--I showed him a vision of her snorting coke in her high school bathroom, stealing and selling coins from her dad's prize collection for more coke money. I showed him visions of his wife laughing with his best friend and sharing moments with him that he would never know with her. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was going to implode.

He couldn’t see me. He was too panicked, but they can never see me unless I let them, anyway. I gently directed him to the letter opener. Dull, yet effective. He lost himself, I helped him find his way. I suggested a slow shallow cut.

It took him a good couple of hours to completely leave. Plenty of time to get everything through to him. His lamentation and regret were savory. His tears were delightful. I let him see me right at the very end. I studied him. I leaned in tasted his tears. I smelled his cologne, his sweat and his fear, mixed in with the coppery warmth of his blood. I could feel the warmth of life that was leaving his veins. I took in each and every event and relished it. He did not give in his life; I made sure that in death, he gave me everything he could.

I can't help but wonder what happened to that girl in the park from 23 years ago.