Funny thing, this.
Ever since a few days before the anniversary, I feel like I've adjusted. I've become an adult with only one living parent. It's just been me and Dad and my siblings for a year. I'm no longer counting the months; now it's "over a year ago" or "last year." Next you it will be "two years ago." In time it'll be, "when I was thirty" perhaps because I can't smoothly calculate how long it has been. I'm now free to make "big changes" per the recommendations of Hospice's bereavement team suggestions. All of the "firsts" have been hit, as far as annual events. The world has moved on and though I'll always miss her, I'm ready to, as well. I feel that I've adjusted.
Grief isn't really linear and there will undoubtedly still be times of soul-crushing sorrow and angst, especially if/when I get married and have babies. But--for the moment--I feel that I'm "used to it" now. I feel that I've adjusted. I feel free to carry on and my motivation is returning.
I lost my cats. I lost my Mom. I may soon lose my Grandparents. Dad still has a statistically higher probability of dying in the next year, but please God forbid. My business is doing better than it ever has. I just paid off a major debt, and that gives me hope for the rest of them, and my ability to climb out of personal poverty in the next year or two, maybe! All of this, without my Mom. It makes me sad... but I'm okay. That's how it goes. She is not gone, she just isn't here.
Moving on.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
The firsts are almost over
Life has been and continues to be difficult of late. January and February were very hard, financially. (Note to self: Don't take an "extravagant" trip to Vegas right before your worst two months of the year.) I made it through only by the grace of God, angels, and a bare handful of clients. Now that March is looking up, financially, I am entering the hardest nine weeks of this first year.
By this time a year ago, we knew that Mom was going to go home. The nine weeks that followed until after her memorial were fraught with mixed emotions, both difficult and precious. This is the final round of Firsts. We survived the first holiday season, the first birthdays, the first summer... It has to get better from there, right? We'll get used to feeling a little lost without her, used to regretting the conversations we never had, used to overcoming the impulse to cry, and used to wishing she was around.
Often time it feel like I'm chest deep in manure. I can still breathe and speak and move my arms about; and there's flowers growing all around me, beautiful and brightly colored, with heady perfumes that make me happy and mask the stench of shit. It makes it easier to endure, gives me reasons to be grateful, even if it doesn't change to the fundamental nature of the situation. I find myself grieving more than just my mother's death these days. I grieve many things. There's a lot to hold space for, and sometimes it doesn't feel like there's enough space to hand space in.
By this time a year ago, we knew that Mom was going to go home. The nine weeks that followed until after her memorial were fraught with mixed emotions, both difficult and precious. This is the final round of Firsts. We survived the first holiday season, the first birthdays, the first summer... It has to get better from there, right? We'll get used to feeling a little lost without her, used to regretting the conversations we never had, used to overcoming the impulse to cry, and used to wishing she was around.
Often time it feel like I'm chest deep in manure. I can still breathe and speak and move my arms about; and there's flowers growing all around me, beautiful and brightly colored, with heady perfumes that make me happy and mask the stench of shit. It makes it easier to endure, gives me reasons to be grateful, even if it doesn't change to the fundamental nature of the situation. I find myself grieving more than just my mother's death these days. I grieve many things. There's a lot to hold space for, and sometimes it doesn't feel like there's enough space to hand space in.
Monday, October 8, 2012
*SPAZSPAZSPAZSPAZSPAZ*
*flaps arms and hands, runs around in crazy circles*
I'M GOING TO THE CLASS IN NEW HAMPSHIRE!!! "HAMPSHIRE" IS A HARD WORD TO KEEP TYPING AS I SPAZ ACROSS THE INTERWEBS! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!
*faints!*
So excited!!!!!
I'M GOING TO THE CLASS IN NEW HAMPSHIRE!!! "HAMPSHIRE" IS A HARD WORD TO KEEP TYPING AS I SPAZ ACROSS THE INTERWEBS! AHHHHHHHHH!!!!
*faints!*
So excited!!!!!
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Finding passion again
I went to Arizona with mixed emotions. I was glad for an opportunity to advance my knowledge. I was grateful to Providence for dropping the means of coming into my lap by way of a new client buying a package for the exact amount I needed. I was happy to be taking a class I'd been wanting to attend for several years. This was a great thing.
I also came with some feelings of intimidation and trepidation. I've done a lot of things I "wanted to do for years" in recent times, paid for Providentially, followed my old dreams and plans to try to make them work, only to find Beijing would change when I returned home. I'd find some roadblock to stop me, and I felt stagnant and bored and directionless. I felt obliged, though, to take the class since it was paid for with an additional promise of referred clients. This was all compounded by the fact that this was only a prerequisite course; it was only Self Care and would not allow me to practice on or teach anyone else. The course required for that was sparsely available and would cost over $2000 to take, plus travel expenses. For a woman feeling like she was forever destined to poverty unless she pulled off a Lizzie Bennet or Marianne Dashwood, that felt like a nearly insurmountable bit of trouble that may or may not prove to be worthwhile to her professional career.
Something changed that first day of class, though. My flesh caught on fire from the inside out. I felt the Calling in my bones, in my muscles and nerves and skin and hair. My blood raced and I thought I shone like a candle. It seared away my stagnation. I received purpose and passion again. It was as though I could firewalk out of my skin and up to the doors of Heaven, there to be received and instructed by the hands of God Herself in this healing art.
The drive never left faded, only settled deeper, dampening into my bones, becoming one with my flesh. I needed to know everything afresh, review material I’d known for years, soak up information I had never before received. I wanted to dance, I wanted to sing, I needed to soar, the step off the dark cliff into the chasm and feel the air rush past my wings. But how? How could I possibly manage it? Already deep in debt, and the next class thousands of dollars... The next step truly would be one into the dark, into the deep.
I stepped, and found a ledge: a virtual stranger I’ve met once in my life was willing to loan me the money. Somehow, miraculously, the money was available. I gave thanks for her kindness and spent a week in contemplation. Would the feeling go away? Was this foolish? It was a lot of money and I don’t have much of my own. Debt can be dangerous and I don’t have a safety net. I’m struggling to pay off my credit cards! This is insane. That doesn’t change the fact that I need to do it, though, and a way has been provided.
I did back off a little on the loan request, though, opting instead to seek donations from friends and family to help make up the difference. That will make repayment more manageable for me as I work this new therapy into my spa offerings and coordinate with other care providers for referrals. This should make life a bit more manageable over the coming months. So far, I've been thrilled by the response, and I hope people will keep up the support. Whatever it takes, though, I will be following this dream, following this path, following this new-kindled passion.
I also came with some feelings of intimidation and trepidation. I've done a lot of things I "wanted to do for years" in recent times, paid for Providentially, followed my old dreams and plans to try to make them work, only to find Beijing would change when I returned home. I'd find some roadblock to stop me, and I felt stagnant and bored and directionless. I felt obliged, though, to take the class since it was paid for with an additional promise of referred clients. This was all compounded by the fact that this was only a prerequisite course; it was only Self Care and would not allow me to practice on or teach anyone else. The course required for that was sparsely available and would cost over $2000 to take, plus travel expenses. For a woman feeling like she was forever destined to poverty unless she pulled off a Lizzie Bennet or Marianne Dashwood, that felt like a nearly insurmountable bit of trouble that may or may not prove to be worthwhile to her professional career.
Something changed that first day of class, though. My flesh caught on fire from the inside out. I felt the Calling in my bones, in my muscles and nerves and skin and hair. My blood raced and I thought I shone like a candle. It seared away my stagnation. I received purpose and passion again. It was as though I could firewalk out of my skin and up to the doors of Heaven, there to be received and instructed by the hands of God Herself in this healing art.
The drive never left faded, only settled deeper, dampening into my bones, becoming one with my flesh. I needed to know everything afresh, review material I’d known for years, soak up information I had never before received. I wanted to dance, I wanted to sing, I needed to soar, the step off the dark cliff into the chasm and feel the air rush past my wings. But how? How could I possibly manage it? Already deep in debt, and the next class thousands of dollars... The next step truly would be one into the dark, into the deep.
I stepped, and found a ledge: a virtual stranger I’ve met once in my life was willing to loan me the money. Somehow, miraculously, the money was available. I gave thanks for her kindness and spent a week in contemplation. Would the feeling go away? Was this foolish? It was a lot of money and I don’t have much of my own. Debt can be dangerous and I don’t have a safety net. I’m struggling to pay off my credit cards! This is insane. That doesn’t change the fact that I need to do it, though, and a way has been provided.
I did back off a little on the loan request, though, opting instead to seek donations from friends and family to help make up the difference. That will make repayment more manageable for me as I work this new therapy into my spa offerings and coordinate with other care providers for referrals. This should make life a bit more manageable over the coming months. So far, I've been thrilled by the response, and I hope people will keep up the support. Whatever it takes, though, I will be following this dream, following this path, following this new-kindled passion.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Busy Biz-y Buzz Buzz
I haven't forgotten you, darlings, I'm just trying to open a new business and pray my grandparents don't die. I am a bucket o' sunshine this year, aren't I? (There might be several episodes of Doctor Who involved, as well. Just sayin'.)
However, in lieu of recording my woes and insecurities about timing, staying, going, living, and dying, I'm just going to tell you all to go here and read some hilarious, often-profane, and insightful posts about what it's like to be a Mid-Single. I wanna make that woman my newest best friend.
Anyway, I'll be back again. I'm looking for something happy to talk about. There must be things of good report in this world, so I shall seek after them then return and report.
However, in lieu of recording my woes and insecurities about timing, staying, going, living, and dying, I'm just going to tell you all to go here and read some hilarious, often-profane, and insightful posts about what it's like to be a Mid-Single. I wanna make that woman my newest best friend.
Anyway, I'll be back again. I'm looking for something happy to talk about. There must be things of good report in this world, so I shall seek after them then return and report.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Believing "Inactivity"
I've gone briefly "inactive" twice in my life. Both periods lasted for about six to eight weeks. That's hardly anything to some people and it really didn't feel very long at all to me, but both times it was enough to get me on the radar. I guess that speaks to people caring about me. How many people drop off the radar and no one says a peep? I'm deeply gratified and glad that people care about and want me. I know not everyone feels so blessed when their attendance wanes or stops altogether.
The past three months have been difficult. I've been to my singles ward all of three times since Mom died, including today. I only stayed for Sacrament meeting today because I had an engagement party to attend for an old friend who asked me to be her bridesmaid. I went to my sister's Ward last week, halfway across the state, to surprise her and her husband when they gave talks. I've been sort of attending church all along, though my strictitude in doing so has diminished considerably.
That doesn't mean I don't believe, though. I do.
I believe very strongly, even when I'm railing against patriarchy. I believe very strongly, even when I see malls built on the interest from investments made in part with my tithing money.* I believe very strongly, even when I feel like I can't get up in testimony meeting and proclaim my love for my Heavenly Mother and talk about how someday I believe women will see their power and authority recognized once again. I believe very strongly, even when I contemplate whether the institutional Church has lost its way, if Correlation is a form of apostasy and spiritual dictatorship, and if I really want to give my silent stamp of approval on "all of that" by continuing to show up. I believe very strongly, even when I feel disinclined toward being married in the temple, and contemplate how that meshes with elements of my Patriarchal Blessing. (Sealed? Yes. Married? That's a whole other post.)
For any and all of my weird, fringe-y diversions from what's scripted as "the Mormon norm", I still believe. It's not just my religion, it's my personal cosmology to believe that there's more than just this life, that there's something beyond death, and that an afterlife without progression is... pointless. It's my personal ethics and morality to "believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, and in doing good to all" people. I see what we generally call "Mormonism" as something bigger than and encompassing Mormonism, Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Paganism, preJudaism... -ism -ism -ism... preMosiac law... prePatriarchy, back to and beyond any literal or figurative Adam and Eve. Mormonism is just a title that got slapped on it in modern times, under modern circumstances by people that hate(d) those that believe in it. What's a better term for it? Saintism? Elohimity? What can one call this tapestry that stretches back through unknown generations of exalted mortals, and spreads forward through countless more where--upon the great glowing pattern--the thread of Divine Grace spells "Love One Another"?
I don't know. I don't know what it is, but it is what I believe. That's what I hope I'll always believe, whether I sit in nature or a pew.
----------
*At least that's the source of City Creek's finances that I've heard. I could be wrong, and I welcome correction if I am. I do want to have my facts straight.
The past three months have been difficult. I've been to my singles ward all of three times since Mom died, including today. I only stayed for Sacrament meeting today because I had an engagement party to attend for an old friend who asked me to be her bridesmaid. I went to my sister's Ward last week, halfway across the state, to surprise her and her husband when they gave talks. I've been sort of attending church all along, though my strictitude in doing so has diminished considerably.
That doesn't mean I don't believe, though. I do.
I believe very strongly, even when I'm railing against patriarchy. I believe very strongly, even when I see malls built on the interest from investments made in part with my tithing money.* I believe very strongly, even when I feel like I can't get up in testimony meeting and proclaim my love for my Heavenly Mother and talk about how someday I believe women will see their power and authority recognized once again. I believe very strongly, even when I contemplate whether the institutional Church has lost its way, if Correlation is a form of apostasy and spiritual dictatorship, and if I really want to give my silent stamp of approval on "all of that" by continuing to show up. I believe very strongly, even when I feel disinclined toward being married in the temple, and contemplate how that meshes with elements of my Patriarchal Blessing. (Sealed? Yes. Married? That's a whole other post.)
For any and all of my weird, fringe-y diversions from what's scripted as "the Mormon norm", I still believe. It's not just my religion, it's my personal cosmology to believe that there's more than just this life, that there's something beyond death, and that an afterlife without progression is... pointless. It's my personal ethics and morality to "believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, and in doing good to all" people. I see what we generally call "Mormonism" as something bigger than and encompassing Mormonism, Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Paganism, preJudaism... -ism -ism -ism... preMosiac law... prePatriarchy, back to and beyond any literal or figurative Adam and Eve. Mormonism is just a title that got slapped on it in modern times, under modern circumstances by people that hate(d) those that believe in it. What's a better term for it? Saintism? Elohimity? What can one call this tapestry that stretches back through unknown generations of exalted mortals, and spreads forward through countless more where--upon the great glowing pattern--the thread of Divine Grace spells "Love One Another"?
I don't know. I don't know what it is, but it is what I believe. That's what I hope I'll always believe, whether I sit in nature or a pew.
----------
*At least that's the source of City Creek's finances that I've heard. I could be wrong, and I welcome correction if I am. I do want to have my facts straight.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
My first day back
Oh, where to start. Last week, I guess I'll start with last week. No, March. Back in March, just after we found out that the cancer had returned, I told my Bishop that I'd be basically ducking out of my Ward, that I wasn't ready to move back to my family Ward, that I needed the ties to my peer group. So, with the exception of the Sunday just after Mom died, I really hadn't been to church in about two and a half months. Last week, during the third hour, Ward members teamed up and went out to visit people who had been designated inactive or less active.
Guess who got visited! I almost went to church that day, too. I was awake in time to get up and go, but I decided to sleep instead. I'd been working my doula magic at a birth Saturday morning, 90 miles away, and over Friday and Saturday I was awake close to 40 hours. I got in enough dozing to make it safe to drive home, but not enough to count as rest. Sleep and food took priority that day over Fast and Testimony meetings, and so I got a visit from two dear friends and a guy I recognized but to whom I had never said more than three words. And a plate of cookies.
For those not familiar with the nature of a YSA Ward in a college town, turn over is super high. Around here, there's a core of people who grew up in the area, but the membership generally changes every 3-5 months, so not having seen someone in that time is decent reason to consider them "inactive". Coupling that with my notification to the Bishop, I don't blame them for coming to see me. Plus, making sure people are doing okay is kind of important.
After all of that, I felt I should probably make the effort and go to church. I got up, got myself there just in time to catch the sacramental bread out in the foyer, went in and sat down in all readiness to hear a good message... and the first speaker opened his talk with a recounting of his recent diagnosis of and surgery for malignant melanoma.
Welcome back! Let's trigger a panic attack!
I ran out of the room, hyperventilating and found myself sobbing on the foyer couch, covering my face and unable to stop. I don't blame the investigator standing out there for not approaching me, but I was a little dismayed by the (presumably) seasoned married couple whose feet I saw through my fingers, strolling past me in silence. Thanks for checking on the clearly distraught sister sobbing right in front of you, folks! Have a great Sabbath! The Sister missionaries came and checked on me, as did the EQP and one of the other girls in the Ward, so I wasn't alone, and I did calm down enough after a few minutes to go to the restroom and clean myself up... only to find myself sobbing uncontrollably and taking refuge in the Mother's Room so my wailing wouldn't echo throughout the whole building. I was in there for the remainder of the hour, finally feeling all right to emerge for Sunday School.
I sort of wished I hadn't. We were studying the end of Mosiah and the start of Alma in the Book of Mormon, which is the section where the Nephites are setting up their representative-democratic-theocracy. This is an understandably popular form of government for a lot of American Mormons, especially of a right-leaning philosophy, because it's similar enough to our own government, plus the piety of being based on God's laws. Huzzah! Therefore, political comments were ripe for the plucking and the soap boxes were occupied. Not Huzzah. At one point, I couldn't shut up any longer and I steered the rhetoric straight to, "we need to love, serve, and see people the way Jesus would." I can't stand political commentary in church anymore. It makes me want to tear out my hair. By the way, has anyone noticed that we always study the Book of Mormon during Presidential election years?
Relief Society was fairly innocuous, just a lesson on studying the scriptures. I did feel that I should make a better effort with my lately-lax scripture study, but I tuned out most of the lesson while I tried to download the manual from Amazon to my Kindle. (Don't do it. Wrong book. $10.41 wasted. Yay for refunds.) Afterward, I stayed to practice a choir song I won't be in church on the 24th to perform. However, it was fun and it felt good.
All in all.... a difficult day. Welcome back, Jena. Things have changed!
Guess who got visited! I almost went to church that day, too. I was awake in time to get up and go, but I decided to sleep instead. I'd been working my doula magic at a birth Saturday morning, 90 miles away, and over Friday and Saturday I was awake close to 40 hours. I got in enough dozing to make it safe to drive home, but not enough to count as rest. Sleep and food took priority that day over Fast and Testimony meetings, and so I got a visit from two dear friends and a guy I recognized but to whom I had never said more than three words. And a plate of cookies.
For those not familiar with the nature of a YSA Ward in a college town, turn over is super high. Around here, there's a core of people who grew up in the area, but the membership generally changes every 3-5 months, so not having seen someone in that time is decent reason to consider them "inactive". Coupling that with my notification to the Bishop, I don't blame them for coming to see me. Plus, making sure people are doing okay is kind of important.
After all of that, I felt I should probably make the effort and go to church. I got up, got myself there just in time to catch the sacramental bread out in the foyer, went in and sat down in all readiness to hear a good message... and the first speaker opened his talk with a recounting of his recent diagnosis of and surgery for malignant melanoma.
Welcome back! Let's trigger a panic attack!
I ran out of the room, hyperventilating and found myself sobbing on the foyer couch, covering my face and unable to stop. I don't blame the investigator standing out there for not approaching me, but I was a little dismayed by the (presumably) seasoned married couple whose feet I saw through my fingers, strolling past me in silence. Thanks for checking on the clearly distraught sister sobbing right in front of you, folks! Have a great Sabbath! The Sister missionaries came and checked on me, as did the EQP and one of the other girls in the Ward, so I wasn't alone, and I did calm down enough after a few minutes to go to the restroom and clean myself up... only to find myself sobbing uncontrollably and taking refuge in the Mother's Room so my wailing wouldn't echo throughout the whole building. I was in there for the remainder of the hour, finally feeling all right to emerge for Sunday School.
I sort of wished I hadn't. We were studying the end of Mosiah and the start of Alma in the Book of Mormon, which is the section where the Nephites are setting up their representative-democratic-theocracy. This is an understandably popular form of government for a lot of American Mormons, especially of a right-leaning philosophy, because it's similar enough to our own government, plus the piety of being based on God's laws. Huzzah! Therefore, political comments were ripe for the plucking and the soap boxes were occupied. Not Huzzah. At one point, I couldn't shut up any longer and I steered the rhetoric straight to, "we need to love, serve, and see people the way Jesus would." I can't stand political commentary in church anymore. It makes me want to tear out my hair. By the way, has anyone noticed that we always study the Book of Mormon during Presidential election years?
Relief Society was fairly innocuous, just a lesson on studying the scriptures. I did feel that I should make a better effort with my lately-lax scripture study, but I tuned out most of the lesson while I tried to download the manual from Amazon to my Kindle. (Don't do it. Wrong book. $10.41 wasted. Yay for refunds.) Afterward, I stayed to practice a choir song I won't be in church on the 24th to perform. However, it was fun and it felt good.
All in all.... a difficult day. Welcome back, Jena. Things have changed!
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Mother's Day
sigh
Well, I did say I wanted to get it all done with at once. Everything. Death, memorial, Mother's Day... That should make next year easier. It also makes this year really, really hard. Finally, it's beginning to sink in that she's beyond the veil, that life is different, that it's just Dad and I at home and that while she might be around in spirit.... she's not there in body. At least it's really starting to hurt. Today is really going to suck.
So I have two Mothers beyond the veil whose presence I can know no more of than to feel, if I'm lucky. I might have three, if my birth mother hasn't survived this long, but I don't know much of anything about her, so I can't really feel attached, there. How do I honor these women this day?
Well, for one, today I am only saying my prayers to Heavenly Mother. Father can listen in, but I'm talking to my Mom. I will take any opportunity to speak about Her. I would be wearing goddess earrings and my tree and/or labyrinth pendants if I had them with me, but Dad and I are with my sister's family out of town. I will cuddle my niece and hug my sister. I will listen to and hum or sing women's songs. I will treat my father kindly and sit beside him and scratch his back the way Mom used to do. I will honor my sisters who are mothers and console, commiserate, or celebrate with my sisters who are not. I will hold space with those also missing their mothers today, and mothers missing their babies.
And I will mourn honestly and openly and in whatever way I damn well please, be it weeping or donuts or seclusion or walking out of Sacrament meeting if I hear the phrase "We/You are all mothers" and it upsets me because I'm sick of that platitude and it's insulting and patronizing. I will be grumpy if I feel like it because I miss my Mom. And I'll be happy if I feel like it because I had my Mom. I'll be and do whatever gets me through this day.
Peaceful Mother's Day to you all.
Well, I did say I wanted to get it all done with at once. Everything. Death, memorial, Mother's Day... That should make next year easier. It also makes this year really, really hard. Finally, it's beginning to sink in that she's beyond the veil, that life is different, that it's just Dad and I at home and that while she might be around in spirit.... she's not there in body. At least it's really starting to hurt. Today is really going to suck.
So I have two Mothers beyond the veil whose presence I can know no more of than to feel, if I'm lucky. I might have three, if my birth mother hasn't survived this long, but I don't know much of anything about her, so I can't really feel attached, there. How do I honor these women this day?
Well, for one, today I am only saying my prayers to Heavenly Mother. Father can listen in, but I'm talking to my Mom. I will take any opportunity to speak about Her. I would be wearing goddess earrings and my tree and/or labyrinth pendants if I had them with me, but Dad and I are with my sister's family out of town. I will cuddle my niece and hug my sister. I will listen to and hum or sing women's songs. I will treat my father kindly and sit beside him and scratch his back the way Mom used to do. I will honor my sisters who are mothers and console, commiserate, or celebrate with my sisters who are not. I will hold space with those also missing their mothers today, and mothers missing their babies.
And I will mourn honestly and openly and in whatever way I damn well please, be it weeping or donuts or seclusion or walking out of Sacrament meeting if I hear the phrase "We/You are all mothers" and it upsets me because I'm sick of that platitude and it's insulting and patronizing. I will be grumpy if I feel like it because I miss my Mom. And I'll be happy if I feel like it because I had my Mom. I'll be and do whatever gets me through this day.
Peaceful Mother's Day to you all.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
I'm coming back, I promise
It's been a rough few weeks, all told. I'm floating in this very surreal soup of "life is normal" and "life will never be the same again" and "I feel okay" and "My Mom's gone...... what?" It takes a lot of mental energy and even though I want to record every event and the chronology of everything from her last mortal week up to now before it fades, I just can't seem to find the time or energy to write it. Maybe I'll voice record it instead so it's at least somewhere.
Anyway. I expect I'll soon be back to blogging about Feminism and Mormonism and MoFemism and Morganism and Eve and whatever else crosses my mind. Until then, peace.
Anyway. I expect I'll soon be back to blogging about Feminism and Mormonism and MoFemism and Morganism and Eve and whatever else crosses my mind. Until then, peace.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Tired...
It's a quarter to four in the morning. I'm tired and I have work in about seven hours but I don't want to go to sleep. I haven't been wanting to sleep lately. My diet has gone to crap. I seem to be punishing my body. This is what I do to dull the pain. Some people cut, some do drugs, some drink; apparently, I stay up and eat. I know it's not healthy and it doesn't even feel good, but I can't seem to find the will to rest.
I'm tired. Generally, genuinely tired. I know I'm depressed. I'm not handling this well at all. I didn't even Facebook Fast last weekend. My life activities seem to be pulling into a singularity: Be around for Mom.
Thing is... Mom's pretty much gone. Not entirely, but she's definitely not there like she was. She takes too long to answer questions most of the time, if she answers them at all. She's begun arguing over taking medication. She barely has the energy to get herself to the bathroom. I'm going to help her shower in the morning, another reason I should be asleep instead of blogging. I want her to try medical marijuana so she'll freaking eat something. Dad and I wonder if she'll starve herself before the cancer gets her, she eats so little--not even a full glass of milk or bowl of jello or soup in a full day.
As Dad said, I don't want to pray her through the veil, but I don't want her to suffer, either. I haven't had time to release everything pent up inside of me in weeks, and my doctor is concerned about my latest blood tests. I don't have time for this, but I can't seem to stop it from happening. I've already withdrawn from most of my life for the time being. I know that's not healthy, either.
This was never covered in school.
I'm tired. Generally, genuinely tired. I know I'm depressed. I'm not handling this well at all. I didn't even Facebook Fast last weekend. My life activities seem to be pulling into a singularity: Be around for Mom.
Thing is... Mom's pretty much gone. Not entirely, but she's definitely not there like she was. She takes too long to answer questions most of the time, if she answers them at all. She's begun arguing over taking medication. She barely has the energy to get herself to the bathroom. I'm going to help her shower in the morning, another reason I should be asleep instead of blogging. I want her to try medical marijuana so she'll freaking eat something. Dad and I wonder if she'll starve herself before the cancer gets her, she eats so little--not even a full glass of milk or bowl of jello or soup in a full day.
As Dad said, I don't want to pray her through the veil, but I don't want her to suffer, either. I haven't had time to release everything pent up inside of me in weeks, and my doctor is concerned about my latest blood tests. I don't have time for this, but I can't seem to stop it from happening. I've already withdrawn from most of my life for the time being. I know that's not healthy, either.
This was never covered in school.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
I don't know what to call this post
So.... my beloved cat, Topsy, died on the First of the month. I'd had him/He'd had me since some time about 1999 or so. He was an outdoor cat, semi-feral, very friendly and sweet, though clearly with a past of having been abused by someone. Something happened to him neurologically--his body was still healthy--and he deteriorated rapidly to the point where I had to make the decision to end his suffering and have him euthanized.
As if that didn't suck enough.
Today (yesterday now... it's after midnight) the results from my Mom's latest PET scan came in. Today-today is exactly six months since I first posted about her cancer, and almost five months since musing in grief that she could be gone in six...
Now, it's everywhere. God in Heaven, it's everywhere. It's everywhere inside her. There's too many spots. It's in her bones, in her muscles, her organs... and even a tiny spot between the hemispheres of her brain. There's nothing more that can be done except to make sure she's comfortable and take as much advantage of the time we have while we can.
She has hardly gotten out of bed since Sunday morning and she has a horrible time concentrating or remembering... or communicating. She'll start to say something and stop after a few words, and just go silent. Half the time she forgets that she spoke at all. When something's really on her mind, she repeats and reaffirms it over and over again. "I'm okay." "I love you." "He [my Dad] needs to be strong." It's very similar to the way my Grandma (Dad's Mom) is now with her dementia. She has been in a care home for a year and a half now. Mom won't have that long.
The last "big" things she did on Saturday before this began was having a Five Guys burger for dinner after the PET scan (having such an appetite has been a big deal, lately) and standing by to support me as I buried Topsy in the yard. Her oncologist says she likely has months (rather than weeks and rather than years) and there's talk about bringing in Hospice soon. Hospice has been mentioned for my Grandpa as well, who's living with congestive heart failure and has been in and out of hospitals and care facilities since Christmas.
We probably won't make it over to my sister's for blessing my baby niece, so they may come here instead. If it can happen in our home ward and Mom feels up to go to Sacrament meeting, wonderful! If she doesn't, we will do it here at home.
I'm sure there's many philosophical and spiritual things to be said here about life and death, change, transition, and the eternal nature of the soul. There is. I just can't say it right now. I can't. I'm numb with spurts of anguish. I'm adjusting to the loss of my cat okay. I hope I can do comparably well for the coming loss of my Mother and Grandfather. I hope I can find or be given strength to let my Dad be weak when he needs to be weak.
Oh God, what am I going to do....
Today (yesterday now... it's after midnight) the results from my Mom's latest PET scan came in. Today-today is exactly six months since I first posted about her cancer, and almost five months since musing in grief that she could be gone in six...
Now, it's everywhere. God in Heaven, it's everywhere. It's everywhere inside her. There's too many spots. It's in her bones, in her muscles, her organs... and even a tiny spot between the hemispheres of her brain. There's nothing more that can be done except to make sure she's comfortable and take as much advantage of the time we have while we can.
She has hardly gotten out of bed since Sunday morning and she has a horrible time concentrating or remembering... or communicating. She'll start to say something and stop after a few words, and just go silent. Half the time she forgets that she spoke at all. When something's really on her mind, she repeats and reaffirms it over and over again. "I'm okay." "I love you." "He [my Dad] needs to be strong." It's very similar to the way my Grandma (Dad's Mom) is now with her dementia. She has been in a care home for a year and a half now. Mom won't have that long.
The last "big" things she did on Saturday before this began was having a Five Guys burger for dinner after the PET scan (having such an appetite has been a big deal, lately) and standing by to support me as I buried Topsy in the yard. Her oncologist says she likely has months (rather than weeks and rather than years) and there's talk about bringing in Hospice soon. Hospice has been mentioned for my Grandpa as well, who's living with congestive heart failure and has been in and out of hospitals and care facilities since Christmas.
We probably won't make it over to my sister's for blessing my baby niece, so they may come here instead. If it can happen in our home ward and Mom feels up to go to Sacrament meeting, wonderful! If she doesn't, we will do it here at home.
I'm sure there's many philosophical and spiritual things to be said here about life and death, change, transition, and the eternal nature of the soul. There is. I just can't say it right now. I can't. I'm numb with spurts of anguish. I'm adjusting to the loss of my cat okay. I hope I can do comparably well for the coming loss of my Mother and Grandfather. I hope I can find or be given strength to let my Dad be weak when he needs to be weak.
Oh God, what am I going to do....
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Dear Hypothetical Husband
Hi,
honey. I miss you. I’ve been waiting for you a long time, as I
suppose you’ve been waiting for me. Or maybe you haven’t. By this
point in our lives--assuming you’re close to my age--you may have gotten
married to someone else, perhaps fathered a couple or few kids, and
thus... you may not have waited for me. I don’t know if you know that
or not. You may be divorced. You may have yet to get divorced. You
may currently be happy in some doubly hypothetical marriage and family.
Perhaps, though, you’ve stayed as single as I have. I’m losing hope by
the day that you’ve stayed as celibate as I have. I guess we’ll find
out the answer when we get to where we’re going.
I can’t speak to your situation, whatever it is and wherever you are, but I will speak to mine and here it is; I’m very, very tired of waiting. I’ve spent seven or so years waiting on you since I dumped what's-his-face, and I wasted a lot of time doing that when I could have been more successful in my life. I don’t know if I blame you for not being there when I wanted you to be or myself for not being where I am now or being foolish enough to wait, but wherever the fault lies (and it’s probably with me) I’m done. I’m really kind of over it.
I love you. I really look forward to meeting you or realizing you someday, whoever you are. However, I am done with this game. You took too long to get here. I took too long to get here. We took too long to get here, and I’ve got other places to go, places to see, things to do, things to be. Your life probably isn’t on hold and I don’t believe anymore that mine should be either. So I’m breaking up with this hypothetical life of five kids, a minivan, and a picket fence or what have you that I had sketched up in my mind. I’m going to go be a success on my own terms. I’ll probably find you along the way. You aren’t the guy I was looking for five years ago; maybe that’s why I missed you.
As it stands, though, I have to take care of my own self and live my own life. If I do meet you someday, and if we do have children in this mortality, I don’t want to tell them that I spent all my career years sucking horribly at my work because I was afraid to succeed and lose that success if you showed up in the next few months and we got married and pregnant by the end of the year. I want to be the sort of woman my potential kiddos could look up to as an example sometimes and not just a cautionary tale of how not to do adulthood.
I love you. I want to have you forever, when forever comes. I want us to have a passionate love life when it comes, and I'm working on dealing with my personal body issues and getting over Good Girl Syndrome. I hope you’re doing the same in one way or another--if you have anything to work through--so we don’t have years of huge sexual hang-ups to overcome. I know there’s something to be said about working through thing like that together, but I’m not sure I want to remain “ill” until we’re together for the sake of some “romantic” ideal. I don't think it's a good idea at this point.
Until we meet, my love, I commend you to the watch care of gods and angels, and I’ll see you out in the world.
Love always,
Jena, your Wild Woman
I can’t speak to your situation, whatever it is and wherever you are, but I will speak to mine and here it is; I’m very, very tired of waiting. I’ve spent seven or so years waiting on you since I dumped what's-his-face, and I wasted a lot of time doing that when I could have been more successful in my life. I don’t know if I blame you for not being there when I wanted you to be or myself for not being where I am now or being foolish enough to wait, but wherever the fault lies (and it’s probably with me) I’m done. I’m really kind of over it.
I love you. I really look forward to meeting you or realizing you someday, whoever you are. However, I am done with this game. You took too long to get here. I took too long to get here. We took too long to get here, and I’ve got other places to go, places to see, things to do, things to be. Your life probably isn’t on hold and I don’t believe anymore that mine should be either. So I’m breaking up with this hypothetical life of five kids, a minivan, and a picket fence or what have you that I had sketched up in my mind. I’m going to go be a success on my own terms. I’ll probably find you along the way. You aren’t the guy I was looking for five years ago; maybe that’s why I missed you.
As it stands, though, I have to take care of my own self and live my own life. If I do meet you someday, and if we do have children in this mortality, I don’t want to tell them that I spent all my career years sucking horribly at my work because I was afraid to succeed and lose that success if you showed up in the next few months and we got married and pregnant by the end of the year. I want to be the sort of woman my potential kiddos could look up to as an example sometimes and not just a cautionary tale of how not to do adulthood.
I love you. I want to have you forever, when forever comes. I want us to have a passionate love life when it comes, and I'm working on dealing with my personal body issues and getting over Good Girl Syndrome. I hope you’re doing the same in one way or another--if you have anything to work through--so we don’t have years of huge sexual hang-ups to overcome. I know there’s something to be said about working through thing like that together, but I’m not sure I want to remain “ill” until we’re together for the sake of some “romantic” ideal. I don't think it's a good idea at this point.
Until we meet, my love, I commend you to the watch care of gods and angels, and I’ll see you out in the world.
Love always,
Jena, your Wild Woman
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Just a note
Hi everyone. I'm sorry I've been so silent. Things had been very hard around here lately and so far, 2012 hasn't felt all that spiritual. I'm having a really tough time with anything spiritual... or temporal... or... anything.
To make a long story short (I simply do not have the energy to write--nor can I believe anyone would have the inclination to read--everything), Mom's done with radiation, but she's still not doing great with energy or appetite. Business is in the toilet and I'm watching my credit card debt rise and my income flatline. I'm 30 and single and that SUCKS and I'm trying to detach myself from the suckitude while I keep forgetting to call my therapist back (yes, I have one...) so I can go work through the hell my ex laid on me 8 years ago, so I can live an emotionally normal life. My grandmother has advanced dementia (not to Alzheimer's... yet) and my grandfather has congestive heart failure and is not long for this world. I am severely anemic this week; I considered going to the hospital for a transfusion. I am chugging iron and herbs and all manner things that would horrify my doctor, I'm sure, to build my blood back up. I've got bone broth simmering and I'll be making... something out of it, I dont know what because it sounds awful. *shudder* Just something to get used to, I guess. For my health.
Anyway, things have just been... hard. Very hard, and I've been very sad, and I've been putting too much of myself out into the world without taking enough in to nourish myself. I have gotten better about scripture study and prayer again, and that helps a little, but I am depleted. I am dried up. I have next to nothing left. I am running on fumes and I do not handle this kin of stress very well. It eats away at me under the cheerful surface until that collapses in a big spout of hiss and fury.
So, I haven't had a lot to say. I did substitute my missed Mother Fast last week. That was nice. Actually, I do have things to say, I just don't have the resources within me to put them out into the world. Pray for me, please, if you think to. Things are just hard right now, and I need to be nurtured before I die in some sense or another.
To make a long story short (I simply do not have the energy to write--nor can I believe anyone would have the inclination to read--everything), Mom's done with radiation, but she's still not doing great with energy or appetite. Business is in the toilet and I'm watching my credit card debt rise and my income flatline. I'm 30 and single and that SUCKS and I'm trying to detach myself from the suckitude while I keep forgetting to call my therapist back (yes, I have one...) so I can go work through the hell my ex laid on me 8 years ago, so I can live an emotionally normal life. My grandmother has advanced dementia (not to Alzheimer's... yet) and my grandfather has congestive heart failure and is not long for this world. I am severely anemic this week; I considered going to the hospital for a transfusion. I am chugging iron and herbs and all manner things that would horrify my doctor, I'm sure, to build my blood back up. I've got bone broth simmering and I'll be making... something out of it, I dont know what because it sounds awful. *shudder* Just something to get used to, I guess. For my health.
Anyway, things have just been... hard. Very hard, and I've been very sad, and I've been putting too much of myself out into the world without taking enough in to nourish myself. I have gotten better about scripture study and prayer again, and that helps a little, but I am depleted. I am dried up. I have next to nothing left. I am running on fumes and I do not handle this kin of stress very well. It eats away at me under the cheerful surface until that collapses in a big spout of hiss and fury.
So, I haven't had a lot to say. I did substitute my missed Mother Fast last week. That was nice. Actually, I do have things to say, I just don't have the resources within me to put them out into the world. Pray for me, please, if you think to. Things are just hard right now, and I need to be nurtured before I die in some sense or another.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Outside the Garden
Perhaps the Devil replaced the symbol of feminine wisdom in the Eden story because life is a Hell of a lot harder once there's choices to be made.
I hate to say it because I feel a little ungrateful after yesterday's sublime gift of timing, but that was the best I got out of the visiting authorities. Both of their talks last night and this morning were... discouraging and unsettling. I don't feel like going into details, but suffice it to say that if there's a hint of purposeful delaying of marriage and children, or a wife who doesn't follow her husband because he's the patriarch(y) in the household, or if you are an inch less than all on board with supporting only traditional marriage, you've been corrupted by the world and Satan. It was pure Correlation speech, with little to no room for personal revelation, opinion, or need. I think my question about Mother was the only thing either of them talked about that wasn't based primarily in "follow the Prophet/Priesthood, get in line, be good."
Okay, that's all slightly exaggerated because I was so taken aback by how put off I was. Also, they did talk about personal revelation, but it was 99.9% (addressing me being the .1%) to do with their process of receiving revelation about the new Stake President. That's wonderful! I am glad to be assured of the revelatory process in our lay clergy, I truly, honestly am. Nevertheless, I was really encouraged by at least portions of Elder Anderson's talk last Conference when he reaffirmed that decisions of when and how many children to have are between couples and the Lord, secondary to even prophetic advice, and to have the subject hit upon three or four times, while talking about how the men have the Priesthood and leadership responsibilities while women stay home and manage the affairs... it bothers me, anymore. We're not stewards over our husband's property while he's out doing God's work. We are God's work! With our husbands, not in spite of them. Teamwork, not periodic couplehood! Yes, I'm upset about it. Talks like this make me feel like I'm less likely to find a man who will see and treat me as equal to him.
Of course, this was topped off with the obligatory bone-throw to the singles and the childless. "You'll get the blessings eventually." Thank you! I had forgotten about that... that one thing that gives my flat-lined love life/death a hint of purpose. That thing I must cling to if I'm to be a righteous LDS woman. I had forgotten, because it's not ever-present when the subject comes up, and I'm not painfully aware that I'm not a member of the married-with-kids club.
Gragh.
All that said... for once, I was genuinely unimpressed by the words of leadership. For once, I really disagreed and found myself in a Correlation Conundrum. I'm certain this will not be the last time I face this situation. I do like the new Stake Presidency, though, and I'm grateful for the former Presidency. They were really wonderful, and I have high hopes that this new trio will carry the torch of awesome.
To end on a lighter note, I would like to take a moment to brag on my former Stake President. I've known and loved the man for years. He was my Stake Mission Leader when I was a Stake missionary... for three weeks before he was called to be President. I was well acquainted with him before that through my Dad, and I was excited to see him called. Over the years, he and his four counselors (one moved, one died--and he is still deeply missed and lovingly remembered, but that's another story) have done great amounts of good from what I've observed. The President joined an interfaith coalition of local leaders an representatives of many faiths and built bridges and got to know them well. He spoke openly of and acknowledged Heavenly Mother in at least one, possibly two meetings I attended. When he and his wife were interviewed by Elder Oaks when he was called, and Elder Oaks gave him 20 minutes to choose his Counselors, he didn't need the whole time, but most remarkably... he told Elder Oaks that his wife would always be his first Counselor. And she was. Following that line, when he came to the singles ward to conduct the last Bishopric change, he said, speaking of the departing trio and advising the incoming, "The brethren are better prepared when they have the advice of their wives." He has been a great example of equality and honoring women alongside men.
I pray that will continue with our new President and his Counselors, and that it will spread.
I hate to say it because I feel a little ungrateful after yesterday's sublime gift of timing, but that was the best I got out of the visiting authorities. Both of their talks last night and this morning were... discouraging and unsettling. I don't feel like going into details, but suffice it to say that if there's a hint of purposeful delaying of marriage and children, or a wife who doesn't follow her husband because he's the patriarch(y) in the household, or if you are an inch less than all on board with supporting only traditional marriage, you've been corrupted by the world and Satan. It was pure Correlation speech, with little to no room for personal revelation, opinion, or need. I think my question about Mother was the only thing either of them talked about that wasn't based primarily in "follow the Prophet/Priesthood, get in line, be good."
Okay, that's all slightly exaggerated because I was so taken aback by how put off I was. Also, they did talk about personal revelation, but it was 99.9% (addressing me being the .1%) to do with their process of receiving revelation about the new Stake President. That's wonderful! I am glad to be assured of the revelatory process in our lay clergy, I truly, honestly am. Nevertheless, I was really encouraged by at least portions of Elder Anderson's talk last Conference when he reaffirmed that decisions of when and how many children to have are between couples and the Lord, secondary to even prophetic advice, and to have the subject hit upon three or four times, while talking about how the men have the Priesthood and leadership responsibilities while women stay home and manage the affairs... it bothers me, anymore. We're not stewards over our husband's property while he's out doing God's work. We are God's work! With our husbands, not in spite of them. Teamwork, not periodic couplehood! Yes, I'm upset about it. Talks like this make me feel like I'm less likely to find a man who will see and treat me as equal to him.
Of course, this was topped off with the obligatory bone-throw to the singles and the childless. "You'll get the blessings eventually." Thank you! I had forgotten about that... that one thing that gives my flat-lined love life/death a hint of purpose. That thing I must cling to if I'm to be a righteous LDS woman. I had forgotten, because it's not ever-present when the subject comes up, and I'm not painfully aware that I'm not a member of the married-with-kids club.
Gragh.
All that said... for once, I was genuinely unimpressed by the words of leadership. For once, I really disagreed and found myself in a Correlation Conundrum. I'm certain this will not be the last time I face this situation. I do like the new Stake Presidency, though, and I'm grateful for the former Presidency. They were really wonderful, and I have high hopes that this new trio will carry the torch of awesome.
To end on a lighter note, I would like to take a moment to brag on my former Stake President. I've known and loved the man for years. He was my Stake Mission Leader when I was a Stake missionary... for three weeks before he was called to be President. I was well acquainted with him before that through my Dad, and I was excited to see him called. Over the years, he and his four counselors (one moved, one died--and he is still deeply missed and lovingly remembered, but that's another story) have done great amounts of good from what I've observed. The President joined an interfaith coalition of local leaders an representatives of many faiths and built bridges and got to know them well. He spoke openly of and acknowledged Heavenly Mother in at least one, possibly two meetings I attended. When he and his wife were interviewed by Elder Oaks when he was called, and Elder Oaks gave him 20 minutes to choose his Counselors, he didn't need the whole time, but most remarkably... he told Elder Oaks that his wife would always be his first Counselor. And she was. Following that line, when he came to the singles ward to conduct the last Bishopric change, he said, speaking of the departing trio and advising the incoming, "The brethren are better prepared when they have the advice of their wives." He has been a great example of equality and honoring women alongside men.
I pray that will continue with our new President and his Counselors, and that it will spread.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Mother Fast 4: The on-the-road edition
I realized about 8PM last night that I had forgotten to post a reminder about the Fast. I remembered as I was two and a half hours from home and I had left my computer at home. I am (usually) too lazy to post from my phone. Nevertheless, I did remember to fast in time to do so, and it made my evening at a bachelorette party a little less fattening (though I did wait to begin until I'd had a cupcake. Yummy.)
I'm afraid it has been a very long day, so I don't have a lot to say right now. I know, I'm a bad blogger. I did fast, though. I hope you did too, and that something good happened to you because of it.
I'm afraid it has been a very long day, so I don't have a lot to say right now. I know, I'm a bad blogger. I did fast, though. I hope you did too, and that something good happened to you because of it.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Truncated Muddle
Oh, life is a muddle. I can't even quite gather my thoughts here, but I'll try.
I've slowed my posting of late for a lot of reasons, and I feel like I've talked about this before but I really can't recall. The Mother Fast is still going. I'm still wishing I knew how many people are participating. I've had no entries on the "Awake and Arise" anthem contest thingy. None. Not a one. Well, except from a small group of friends with whom I discussed it before even putting it out there for entries. I'm a tiny corner of the internet--not even a corner, really, more like a nail dent in a wall--
And Blogger ate my post. *sigh.* *fistshake* Maybe it's for the best, it was mostly just me freaking out about life in general. That's not really the purpose of this blog. Here's a run-down, anyway.
Okay, I'm done. I'm off to keep muddling through. Off to go forth and try to conquer. Away!
I've slowed my posting of late for a lot of reasons, and I feel like I've talked about this before but I really can't recall. The Mother Fast is still going. I'm still wishing I knew how many people are participating. I've had no entries on the "Awake and Arise" anthem contest thingy. None. Not a one. Well, except from a small group of friends with whom I discussed it before even putting it out there for entries. I'm a tiny corner of the internet--not even a corner, really, more like a nail dent in a wall--
And Blogger ate my post. *sigh.* *fistshake* Maybe it's for the best, it was mostly just me freaking out about life in general. That's not really the purpose of this blog. Here's a run-down, anyway.
- Mom's improving, albeit slowly. The situation's still stressful.
- I suck at my business. I'm good at my work! But I'm terrible at my business. This must change.
- I'm questioning things about myself lately that I never thought I'd question and I'm wondering if it's because of reality or general frustration with where I am in life.
- In spite of crap, my life's still pretty good. I'm just stressed and scattered and in need of balance, grounding, and centering. I'm also very seriously considering adding Reiki to my healing repertoire once I chill out a bit.
Okay, I'm done. I'm off to keep muddling through. Off to go forth and try to conquer. Away!
Monday, June 20, 2011
Work and Glory
I'm (slowly; it's overwhelming and kicking my butt) making my way through a book called Heart of the Visionary: A Workbook to Empower Women's Work. The section about money kicks off with a poem called "Mama Goes to Market", and it has been floating around in my head for a few days. The woman is a mother and an entrepreneur, she is wise and discerning, decisive, joyful, personable, and prepared for her work. In turn, she attracts customers like herself, and merchant and buyer both are blessed with abundance by each other. This is the kind of life I want to live, to lead, and the kind of life I struggle to build.
This morning, I met the infant son of one of my chiropractors, whom she had brought to work, and he had been sleeping in a back room. There she was, working outside the home, yet mothering at the same time, just like the woman merchant in the poem.
This is a matter I've struggled with for many years. At times when my business has rebooted (practically every year...) I've told myself I'm too busy working to date... not that men have been busting down my door! Hey, it gave me an excuse (albeit potentially controversial in LDS culture) not to be getting on with the whole settle-down-and-make-babies business, since that wasn't happening anyway. I could have a reason. Well, I gave it up as a "reason" a few years ago and have grudgingly embraced that I'm just not dating and getting married and making babies. It just ain't happening. (I mean that in the present tense, not the present-future "I've made a decision that it's not what I'm going to do" sense.) It'll happen eventually, I'm confident, but for right now... nil. So, I have a job, and it's pretty much my life. It is my husband/lover and my baby all wrapped up together. I have drawn the line at two for my cat collection, so I needed something else to love and inject with my energy, clearly. And I do love my job. It is very satisfying to see someone come out of my workroom with a smile and dropped shoulders. I know that I've worked something good in them, and if I can't get the usual shot of oxytocin, I'll take that.
Thing is... it's not really a replacement or a placeholder anymore. I've been planning for years that once I get married, maybe once I'm pregnant, I'll quit my job and settle in to be a stay-at-home-mom. That's a rough goal in this area, but not impossible. And having a predictable, safe, reliable parent presence is extremely, extremely important for children; I fully embrace that truth. My hands would no longer be used to heal and help the grown, but the growing. It is a noble thing, but I have been holding back on going all-out in my business because I don't want to "get in too deep" and then have to drop it if/when I get married. Seven years later, look at all the good that did me! Way to go, self! I know we've been counseled to pursue education and careers and not count on getting married because some of us just don't, but by golly I had a written statement of intent from God in my Patriarchal Blessing! It could happen any day! Look how quickly I got engaged to my last boyfriend! (The creep.) Hope springs eternal! Any. Day.
.... Yeah. *sigh* Way to go, self. Totally smart.
Anyway, all of that rambling to say, I was thinking about the poem earlier and a scripture came to mind.
;)
This morning, I met the infant son of one of my chiropractors, whom she had brought to work, and he had been sleeping in a back room. There she was, working outside the home, yet mothering at the same time, just like the woman merchant in the poem.
This is a matter I've struggled with for many years. At times when my business has rebooted (practically every year...) I've told myself I'm too busy working to date... not that men have been busting down my door! Hey, it gave me an excuse (albeit potentially controversial in LDS culture) not to be getting on with the whole settle-down-and-make-babies business, since that wasn't happening anyway. I could have a reason. Well, I gave it up as a "reason" a few years ago and have grudgingly embraced that I'm just not dating and getting married and making babies. It just ain't happening. (I mean that in the present tense, not the present-future "I've made a decision that it's not what I'm going to do" sense.) It'll happen eventually, I'm confident, but for right now... nil. So, I have a job, and it's pretty much my life. It is my husband/lover and my baby all wrapped up together. I have drawn the line at two for my cat collection, so I needed something else to love and inject with my energy, clearly. And I do love my job. It is very satisfying to see someone come out of my workroom with a smile and dropped shoulders. I know that I've worked something good in them, and if I can't get the usual shot of oxytocin, I'll take that.
Thing is... it's not really a replacement or a placeholder anymore. I've been planning for years that once I get married, maybe once I'm pregnant, I'll quit my job and settle in to be a stay-at-home-mom. That's a rough goal in this area, but not impossible. And having a predictable, safe, reliable parent presence is extremely, extremely important for children; I fully embrace that truth. My hands would no longer be used to heal and help the grown, but the growing. It is a noble thing, but I have been holding back on going all-out in my business because I don't want to "get in too deep" and then have to drop it if/when I get married. Seven years later, look at all the good that did me! Way to go, self! I know we've been counseled to pursue education and careers and not count on getting married because some of us just don't, but by golly I had a written statement of intent from God in my Patriarchal Blessing! It could happen any day! Look how quickly I got engaged to my last boyfriend! (The creep.) Hope springs eternal! Any. Day.
.... Yeah. *sigh* Way to go, self. Totally smart.
Anyway, all of that rambling to say, I was thinking about the poem earlier and a scripture came to mind.
Moses 1:39 "For behold, this is my work and my glory--to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man [and woman.]"These are the Lord's work and glory... so what is my work? What is my glory? As I reflected on those questions, I got a lot of answers. A lot of things came to mind.
Behold! This is my work and my glory--To bring relief to the suffering and unload the burdens of the pained; To give comfort to the aching and bring joy to the sorrowed; to shelter the hurting and be a friend to those with need; to counsel the questioning and enlighten the asker.
This is my business. This is my work. This is my glory. To be wise in learning and wise in teaching, to help bring to pass the health and vitality of those under my hands.Is it the same thing we've always been told? No. Would I be okay with still working with massage and doulary and whatever else I choose after I'm a wife and mother? Heck yes. Will I find a way to make it work for me, my family, and my accountability to God? Undoubtedly. Am I a juicy woman and a liver of life?
;)
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