IMPERFECT Lady

Our Family Legacy.

 

I didn't fully understand the trauma response, until I witnessed the opposite of it.  

When I was a mother of young children, I didn't even have this language or the awareness that what I was doing had a name. And more, that it was possible to course correct.

 

Actually I didn't even know I was traumatized by having been sexually abused - and this crippled me to responding in healthy ways.

When a child of mine was out of control - I would rise higher. Speak louder - okay yell. 

I fought to gain control by becoming bigger, louder, more violent than the out of control child. Fighting fire with a larger fire.

 

This wasn't unusual behavior - I had witnessed my mother's rages - or her stone cold silences - both trauma responses.

Mothering with trauma responding - leaves a child without the loving kindness of a mother.

 

This is where the lack of love and warmness enters into my relationship with my mother.

She wasn't capable of giving loving responses.

 

And I mirrored her.

 

It wasn't until I broke free of my denial and addressed and dealt with my childhood wounds and mothered myself with loving responses - could I then feel and give love to my children.

 

The difference between a loving response and a trauma response is like breathing and not breathing. 

 

One the child feels seen and heard - and safe.  

 

I am not even sure I can correctly articulate the feelings of the opposite - even though I lived it as a child and also handed it out as a mother.

 

You don't know what you don't know.

 

I was unaware that I was unloving.

 

I know this sounds insane.

 

It wasn't until I loved myself - could I love my child - and know what love is.

 

I loved my wounded self.

This alone trumped the trauma response.

 

Or maybe it ended it.

 

Maybe you can't have a trauma response IF you love yourself.

 

I witnessed my daughter respond as a loving mom - not with the trauma response.

It was the opposite way from my old mothering ways.  I recognized her kindness - and how kind it was for her child.

 

This.

This is the legacy I was striving to change.

 

It wasn't easy for her - she is my child - she didn't experience this as a child.  

She was breaking the cycle.

What a great gift she is giving her small child. 

 

My ultimate hope was that I could end the cycle of abuse - by changing my own responses so many years ago.  That if I could do different - then generations after me - would be spared.

 

Choosing love to respond isn't always easy.  Often it is the harder choice.  The one that takes most effort and requires hard work.  

 

Whether trauma responds or love responds - both will have consequences - but only one will have positive influences upon the child.

 

Trauma responses wound a child.

 

I knew that my behaviors, my awareness - and even my denial and trauma responses - critically affected my children.  Once I became aware - and broke free of denial - all my choices were made with them in mind.

 

Once I saw - I couldn't unsee.

 

Each decision I made either would influence my legacy positively or negatively.  The generations behind me would reap what I sowed.

 

Seeing my daughter mother differently - shows the pattern changing.

It both was both exhilarating and sorrowful.

Knowing she had to also change the pattern in her world.

 

Perhaps the pattern I set in place - was that it was possible.

My legacy is that we can change the patterns we were born into.

All my sorrows and pain of being estranged has not all been for naught.

Seeing the generation below me have awareness and mother with love - was my end game.

My heart weeps knowing what was possible for me - is possible for generations after.

There is nothing sweeter than seeing the patterns changing into loving kindness.

The difference for a child - is knowing love.

 

The trauma response will still arise in me - but I now also have the choice of a loving response.  And, it is typically the harder choice to take.

Loving requires doing what honors you and the other - and truth.

 

I am just so grateful we have both choices alive in our family legacy.

I Hold You in My Heart

I watched Michele Obama being interviewed about her latest book "The Light We Carry" with Oprah and they talked about Michele's friends.  The ones she calls her Kitchen Table.

 

The Kitchen Table has a relaxed image - one where we don't have to put on aires. We can be ourselves in this group.  In fact, we feel at home with them and our truth is honored.

 

These friends are found along our journey of life.  We carry them with us, as we grow, evolve and face some of life's darkest moments and celebrate with us our achievements and joys.

 

As I sit here today, I am reminded of the girls who have been with me.

Watched me grow and change and lead a life that some can't understand.

 

Not all my friends have continued on with me. Some found my table to hard to sit at - my truths too upsetting to their beliefs.  My voice spoke of things they need kept silent. 

 

There have been times in my life my table was crowded - and other times many empty chairs. 

 

I have a friend from my middle school days - we had years of silence and now we are reconnected.  We both had life experiences that changed us - and yet we still fit together. I treasure our friendship and how she holds so much of my history and embraces my new self.  A friendship that can hold changes feels good to me.

 

When my kids were little, another mom with young kids and I connected. She wasn't from the church I was in at the time. We felt at home with each other - we clicked.   When she moved away, we lost touch for awhile - and now when life throws us a curve ball - the other catches it. She gets me and has loved me unconditionally and I her.

 

I found a friend at one of my jobs who was the best thing that came from working there.  A sister friend is how she feels.  We can share our lives with each other and there is no shame or critical eye. Just an open space to sort out life.  We too had moments in life where our lives were busy and perhaps we didn't need the counseling space - and then other times we talked daily.

 

I have found friends during their time of need and I felt my history of loss would be helpful - and over time we have bonded deeply.  Sisters who have shared darkness and found hope. Sisters who travel down pathways each never saw coming. We have deep heart connections.  And, we walked each other towards the light - found hope in the hopeless and joy we didn't think possible. We have witnessed each others growth and success of thriving after heartache.

 

I love that some of my Kitchen Table friends have encouraged me to be an adventure girl- I have wonderful women who enjoy the outside. These ladies have grown me. I am different with a garage full of gear that I use in different seasons.  Some are badass and make me feel kinda badass myself. Being outside and challenging myself has helped my self-esteem.

 

I have artist friends who are great cheerleaders and sounding blocks. Some have been with me from my very early years.  Sharing your art is sharing your soul.  These are brave vulnerable souls.  

 

I look back at some of the friends I had from the church - wistfully.  We shared the common belief system - and were comrades of sorts - with similar foes.  I have lost some that still hurt my heart - our common ground slipped away.

 

At one time, I thought wrongly - that I didn't need new friends - that I was too old to start making new ones.  

 

What a mistake that would have been.  I continue to meet women who I click with and we are in the early stages of friendship.  We can't know where we go, what we do and how long we share our lives together.

The best part about my kitchen table - we can laugh, cry and be silly. We can share our hopes, our dreams and our deepest fears. We can work out life's difficult questions and debate our differences.  

The differences in my friends help me to see life from so many aspects. Views I couldn't have reached on my own.

 

Being away from my family of origin left me with quite a hole.  These friendship over the past few decades have filled so much emptiness. They opened their arms and hearts to me.

 

One of my oldest friends recently told me that families are not as advertised.

I sat with that awhile and found she was on to something.

 

Friendships and who sits at the Kitchen Table with us is so much different. We decide who is worthy of our time and truths - who come in carrying the fullness of who they are.

My Kitchen Table is much more welcoming as I age - or maybe because I am religionless - but I love the beauty of uniqueness - I love strength of character; I love characters!  

My Kitchen Table has empty chairs and is ever expanding in size - I look forward to the new ones I have yet to meet.

And my kitchen door works both ways. I do understand how some had to leave and more could do so in the future. I part in peace.  I know we lasted our season and reason. Not all are meant to be life long friends.

 

I love my Kitchen Table friends for being who they are, and for making me a better Me. My heart is full when I think of you all.

I hold you in my heart.

Dance Party!

What you don't know.

Yesterday a woman who had great influence in my life turned 90.  I did not celebrate.

This woman began programming me as a young child.

Both in religious ways and codependent dysfunctional ways.

She created the daughter she needed and I dutifully followed her lead.

 

As a child I looked up to her and I believed she was a woman of substance and had high morals and good values. I believed she stood against things that were wrong.

 

I grew up to imitate her.

 

Looking back on it now - I was her - in that my life was dictated by a strict religion and my body was owned by the church. My mind was controlled by its programming and my spirit or soul lived silently in the shadows.

 

Nineteen years ago I woke up to a reality that was nothing like our minds believed.

She wasn't of woman of substance of high morals and values and neither was I.

 

Reality was her husband was a pedophile and had abused me and many others. She knew and forgave him of his sins.

My reality held a father who abused me.

My reality was my mother lacked morals and values - she didn't stand up for the child.

 

Somehow reality leaked into my mind - while hers remained untouched.

 

This break in my mind caused us to be on opposite sides. I never found a spot where we could stand and see somewhat eye to eye.  Her mental mind and my open one had nothing in common.

 

Her remaining in the program or mental mind a few steps removed from reality - allowed me to see who I had been  - how it is to be in denial.

I had someone to look at to see how mental my mind was.

Once I knew my mind couldn't be trusted, I began challenging it on every level.

And reality became my new religion. I trusted what was.

 

There was a space between my mental mind and me.

That space grew each time I challenged the mind and found it lacking truth and matching reality.

 

Unless you have been brainwashed and then regained your faculties, you will not understand.

 

The contrasts between living a life as a member of strict religious cult and being free- is quite vast. There are no common denominators. No space where we could share overlapping realities.

 

She had a husband.

I had a pedophile.

 

She had a religion with morals and values.

I had a religion who blessed pedophiles of their sins.

 

She lived as a programmed mind.

I was working to free myself from mine.

 

I began making new choices and trying to rectify the past. More, doing today what I wasn't able to do as a child. Standing up and against abuse.

Regardless who I had to stand up against. 

And making choices with different consequences.

Losing much of what I had - in order to give my children a chance at a different legacy.

 

Nineteen years ago was our last conversation in person. The last time I was in a face to face conversation. 

 

I didn't see a woman there that inspired me.

There was no heart connection.

No warm feelings.

 

Even worse than empty.

She was a mental mind with a body.

 

Blind to reality.

Blind to me.

 

She can only see me when I am compliant with the program.

I know the strength of her mind and I fear its ruthlessness.

 

So what do I do on her birthday. 

A day others celebrate.

Mostly it reminds me of her - and all I lost.

These old family milestones - bring into my reality - the longings for family.

 

Being estranged complicates grief and even the normal family joys.

I am part of - yet apart from.

 

I have a history that is mostly lies.

My fondest memories are tarnished.

I long for the family my mental mind created.

Yet knowing it doesn't exist.

 

She's 90 now.

I didn't celebrate or acknowledge this day to her.

I wasn't even going to here on the blog.

Yet these thoughts and feelings bother me, until I write them out.

 

I am thinking this 90 milestone and the almost 20 years of estrangement has diminished my volume of hope.  

In my early years of being estranged and setting boundaries - a part of me believed that there was hope, that if I could leave the programmed mind, so too could others. 

 

The hope is barely a flicker now - just a spark that ignites for a bit.

 

While many take for granted the family that stands behind them - the familiar shared experiences and memories that create family.  I am very much aware of its absence.

 

This.

 

This is why so many others don't walk way from abusive families. The loneliness and heartache you feel - even if the families you love were all in your mind. They were family.

 

It does feel like a phantom arm - a part of me - that isn't there.

 

My healing and focus began with being authentic and truthful with myself and reality. I began from where I woke up.  Intensely looking at my life, my choices, what my voice was used for, who I stood with and why, or who I stood against and why, what were my morals and values, where they truthful, what is love, what is not love, what brings me joy, what do I feel, what do I not feel - an endless searching for answers.  Answers that became the new me.

The task seemed endless and overwhelming.

To take a mental mind and use it to challenge itself and make choices outside of the program.

 

And in doing so, you go against family.

 

She is 90 and I am 64 - her child.

The child who has nothing to do with her.

 

Not even on her 90th birthday.

 

Some will see me as the bad person here.

Some will celebrate her.

 

I stood by the truth of our estrangement and honored it by doing nothing.

Again.

 

 

This is our relationship now - Estranged - no connection between mother and child.

 

The feelings of being lovingly cared for by a parent feels alien.  

A feeling I have never felt.

 

You cannot celebrate what you don't know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back Home

We had been to the Badlands when our kids were little. We both remember them climbing over these ball like formations. We never did see what we remembered. The new rules prohibit wandering off the trails.

There were a few small hikes/trails to see a better view.

We saw big horn sheep, mule deer, prairie dogs and buffalo here.

And more snow.

Enough snow to show some cool contrasts.

What a wonder nature is.

These trees are Juniper Trees.  The birds eat the berries and drop their seeds and are responsible for planting more trees in these canyons.

I LOVE the fragrance from these Juniper tree.  Arches National Park also had the Juniper trees.

My new favorite.

These are the berries.

I was happy going on all the short little hikes to look over the canyons.  

Most of the National parks had really nice trails.

I didn't notice these signs until my husband pointed them. Often I would go on the trail and he would read the signs - about the history etc.

I love that these guys were just enjoying the sun and relaxing in it.

Beauty in their ragged uniqueness.

And I loved these bare wild trees.  My husband thought they were dead. I hope they sprout leaves this summer. I have no idea what sorta trees they are - but they had character.

Mule deer not caring about the vehicles that drive slowly by.

 

This was our last spot of interest. After this there were many miles of fields - mostly free of snow. We didn't hit snow on the side of the road until Minneapolis.  And of course more trees the further north you go.

We did 5 national parks, a couple of state parks and 6 states.  Next time I will research the area we are heading to a little better.  Find out fun places of interests and see when they open.  

All in all we had a wonderful time and it was good to step out of "waiting for spring". 

We returned to Spring in full download.

While it is good to go, it is always wonderful to be back home. 

 

 

Heading East

It was a breath of fresh air to leave the city behind and back to the mountain drives - heading towards the Tetons and Yellowstone.

 

Soon we were on a desolate stretch of road - miles and miles of seemingly black and white.  

Beautiful in its simplicity.

 

 

Our intention was to head into the Teton Mountains - Jackson Hole and up through the south east corner of Yellowstone.

We spent the night in a small town heading north to Jackson.

In the morning we continued North seeing more incredible mountain sights.

We could see the traces of recent snows - but the roads were bare and the skies were clear.

I'll be honest, I was a bit concerned to be heading towards the mountains again - and seeing them snowcovered.

The skiing appears to be in town in Jackson Hole.  This ski hill was closing on Sunday - we were there on Saturday.

This is the Million Dollar Cowboy bar - that my husband remembers when he was young going to.  40 plus years later and it is still a popular watering hole. 

Around the town square they had these antler arches. Very western.

Leaving Jackson Hole heading up to the Tetons, the snowbanks were so high, we didn't explore too much - we couldn't see over them and it was cloudy - so not to much to see.

Thankfully it wasn't snowing - but you can see they had just gotten a whole bunch - which is why the Road that passes through Yellowstone was closed and would be until late May.

They had it open for a few miles; but there wasn't much to see besides the snow.

Just to give you an idea.

And once you left the mountain tops, back to dry roads. It would seem impossible that we were just in snow higher than our car.

So we then decided to hit Custer Park and the Badlands heading East. 

 

 

Stir my Soul More

After Zion, we headed north to the Great Salt Lake. It was nothing like I expected.

The day we were there, many small birds (maybe ducks) were dead on the beach.

The smell alone made it a less than desirable lake. 

There was an open pit mine near by - we were a week early - for the three hour tour. 

Again, IF you plan - these things you would know. Next time. I will have to do some research before we leave home.

Also by the beach we were at was a Music Venue.

These mountains were in our windshield for miles.

It got a bit crazy around Salt Lake City.  We drove through and went to the Salt Lake First

It was a bit hazy - but we got the idea of the lake.

 

 

At an average water level of 4,200 feet, the lake is approximately 75 miles long and 30 miles wide, with 335 miles of shoreline.

 

Rugged Beaches here - there is an Island called Antelope Island, where they have better beaches. We choose not to go drive up there. 

This is another section, you can get to the water easily; but the smell of rotting birds made it less desirable.  We take for granted the pristine beauty and clarity of Lake Superior. I can't imagine swimming here - but the gentleman who took our Park Fee - said he does. And, that you can tell where you have a little cut, the salt gets into the wound.

 

 

This was the music venue.  There was a gentleman there watching the gate - expecting crowds of young folk.

 

We then drove to the mine - to discover we were a week early - so we decided to explore the Mormon Church. We didn't find the mega church; but found the city block where an older church was and their business offices and conference buildings.  They take up at least a whole city block.

 

It was weird to have the church surrounded by a fence - not real welcoming.

Yet inside there were young folk willing and ready to talk about their religion.

I was intrigued enough to enter and see what was behind the fence.  The flowers were the most welcome sight. They smelled so delicious.  

They are a little beaten down - they were recovering from the latest snowfall.

 

Nature is my religion - and the church felt like a dismal place after the garden - let alone all the wonderful landscapes in the national parks.  

This is the church on Temple Street.  There were young girls - so innocent looking - doing their duty of sharing the message. 

 

One of their church's business offices/conference center. The religion is a big business - 

 

 "Citing some former employees of the fund, the WSJ report at the time said that the Mormon Church's investment fund, Ensign Peak Advisors, had assets worth about $80 billion to $100 billion as of 2019, which easily surpass some of the biggest funds in the world such as Harvard University's endowment..."

This was in a dome shaped building next to the church. More young girls ready and willing to talk.  A man was playing an organ.  The stage and lights seemed out of place.  

I am glad I saw it.     It was Easter weekend, so perhaps they were getting ready for a show/service.

 

I know I am so jaded when it comes to religion. But the contrast between nature and religion and what parts of it stirred my soul.  I felt breathless and inspired by nature - and the Mormon church and city block of buildings that supported it - left me feeling its pretense.

 

They say that less than 50% of the folks who live in and around Salt Lake are Mormons and the numbers are decreasing. 

 

Knowing how a child can be made to follow any cult they are born into - and its costs.  I was relieved to have the city in our rearview.

It was refreshing to see city spaces - of art.

 

For some reason these expressions stir my soul more.

 

 

More Left to Come Back For.

After Bryce, we drove to Zion. This park the road goes through most of it.  At the Western end you can then take a shuttle to see deeper in to the park. They no longer allow traffic to just drive through this section - unless you are a guest at their lodge and perhaps camping.

What I didn't know, until we got on the shuttle, was that you couldn't just hike when you wanted. The hiking reservations had to be made one day in advance.  So, needless to say I didn't hike.  

There was one I wanted to see - the Narrows. I wouldn't have hiked in the water, but would have liked to see the beginning of it.

I had bought a lifetime pass for National Parks and this really came in handy - for all the parks were now free. Or we got our money back - more or less.

Again nature was so incredible.  It was actually hard to take it all in.

This tunnel was 1.1 miles long. There were windows here and there.  I tried to capture the windows in the side of the huge rock mountain - but I was shooting into the sun.

Just above the green is one of the windows. It is crazy to think how they made a tunnel and how it doesn't collapse with the weight of the mountain on it. This too gave my nerves a bit of worry. I just kept being curious and the nervousness took the backseat.

It was a nice day for a ride through Zion.

These goats enjoyed climbing the rocks.

It was simply amazing to see such sights.

I can see why these parks are crowded and how they have to start limiting the folks who are out and about on the trails etc. Yet at the same time, we who road trip without reservations and go where our curiosity takes us - get caught missing out.  

At least there still was plenty to see from the car.

There is much to see in this part of Utah. More left to come back for.

 

Our Car Moving Forward.

We left the kids and headed south into Wyoming - on our way into Colorado. 

There are a lot of fields to travel through between South Dakota and Wyoming.  

Dropping into Colorado, the fun began.

It felt good to be in a snowless place - or almost. I did a short hike along the path and over the river.

This was a neat art installation at a park along a river - on our way to Estes Park CO.

It was fun seeing the mountain goats - near Rocky Mountain State Park.  (Which was closed due to snow)

It was exciting to see this Elk - he was with a few ladies.

I walked down a few streets in Estes Park and happened upon a cool gallery.  I LOVED the colors and the wonderful pieces of glass.  

I can see how these would be super fun to create. 

It was just fun to be in the presence of some cool art things!

We had a nice dinner at a Nepal Diner that evening. I had planned on going into town again in the morning, but....

We woke up to this sight out of our Hotel window.  The night before you could see the mountains in the distance - now it was hidden behind the falling snow.

Falling snow.

And we had opted to take off the winter tires before leaving - so with summer tires and mountain roads. My option was to stay put.  To weather out the late spring storm by exploring town and maybe going to see a movie.

My husband's idea was to drive out of it. 

And, so we did.

Down the mountain roads winding and climbing - with cars and trucks racing past.  Oh my  heart. It was bad enough on the flat interstate - I had been in terror.  Now.  Now on the mountain roads. It was so insane- it was hysterical - funny but so not funny.

You never knew what was around the corner. More slush, more snow coming down, too many vehicles etc. Plus it felt to me - like we were all racing down the mountain. I purposely didn't look over to see how fast my husband was going. I tried to breathe calm into our car.

When there were snowbanks, I actually felt better.  Something between me and the edge of the mountain.  I would not have dreamed we would run into this sorta weather again - after the Fargo Bismarck stretch.  

What was so triggering for me, was the unknown and weird way it would be. We'd go from dry roads and then back to slush.  Just when I would think we'd be out of it, up over a summit we would go and more snow and slush.

Driving down from Estes Park into Boulder and down to Golden was all on slushy roads. Winding turning.  We did not see the beauty that I am sure is there on a nice dry clear day.  But, I was happy to be down - more or less.  Well - I thought I was done with the snowy roads. They followed us through Vail and pass what I am sure are delightful sights - on a clear day.  

West on I-70 we drove - with little surprises of snow along the way. But, we also saw some incredible mountains - when it cleared.

We stayed in a cool mountain town and I was feeling relaxed that the snow was behind us.

Lots of the western towns have incredible street art.  

Cheyenne, where we stayed the first night after leaving the kids - had wonderful murals on its buildings. We also toured the Train Museum which was neat.  To see how the railway opened up the west.  

After a day of mountain roads and snow - was longing for the hundreds of miles flat plains we traveled through.

My husband said it takes you two days of driving before you start to see some spectacular views.  

 

By the way riding with a retired snowplow driver - has its advantages and downsides.

He appeared to have no fear of snow, mountains and speeding vehicles.

And on a side note. The mountain road we came down - a semi truck went off the road coming up.  His cab was hanging off the road - his trailer and not sure what else kept it from going all the way over. We saw more cars in the ditch, more accidents happened. There were travel delays on the opposite side of the road.

Oh, and this is an interstate. So we had two lanes going down. Cars would fly by you - with confidence of a fool.  

 

An experience I will not soon forget - and I am grateful for my husbands ability to keep our car moving forward.

 

Beyond Retirement

Life is interesting when you get into your retirement years. The time opens up and responsibilities fade away - and you now get to choose what you want to do.

 

While freedom sounds good - I feel that it is also complicated.

I believe I was able to hide behind responsibilities and that it is easier to just get in line and do a job.  It is much harder to not waste a life.

A part of me wants to make a difference in my life. I want to live a life I don't regret.

 

This first year I learned I am a homebody.

I can let time slip by being lazy.

 

I don't want to coast my last years of my life - I want to be intentional.

I want to have dreams and then fulfill them.

I don't even know though, what my dreams are.

 

I think dreaming was a luxury, I never entertained.

I first need to learn how to dream and seek out things that will add color and texture to my life.

 

I have been responsible for others for so so many years.  Responsibility overshadows dreams. 

I don't know if I was taught not to dream; but I wasn't taught to dream.

It seems fanciful and nonsensical.

 

Like life wasn't meant for dreams but built for responsibility.

 

Live like you are dying becomes more real after retirement. You enter into the stage of the end.  There isn't another big milestone after retirement - this is it - until we exit the stage.

 

I want live live.

To do things that have meaning.

and depth to me.

 

As I exited out of my dysfunctional family - I was very engaged in doing what was best to leave a legacy that was less toxic.  What I may have failed to do was to show how to live a fanciful life.

A life of dreams, adventures and joy and love.

 

How now to fancy up my life and add tone and texture and glitter.

It was important for me to live my truth, to find my authenticity - to drill down to the core of who I am and heal my brokenness.  And, it is equally important now to have fun. To live joyfully and dream of fun things.

 

I get a catch in my throat of how responsible I have been and how dreamless.

There is a feeling of guilt even contemplating fanciful just for me.  Or gifting me and myself nonsensical adventures.  

 

I don't yet know who I will be when I grow up.  

 

Perhaps we have dreams - dreams for our children and our grandchildren. We have dreams of being an example of a mom who does hard things. Just not fancy dreams.

 

Instead of retirement years, we should call these dream years.

Retirement means to stop working.  There should be another word for it - when we now have time to dream.

I looked up the word dream and the second part is this "indulge in daydreams or fantasies about something greatly desired. "she had dreamed of a trip to Italy."

 

Indulging in daydreams or fantasies isn't something I have done - especially just for me.

Just for me does seem indulgent.

 

I am going to become indulgent and dream.

Learning to dream beyond retirement.

 

Be Yourself

"Every year you make a resolution to change yourself. This year make a resolution to be yourself."  Author Unknown

 

My granddaughter and I were in the basement creating - there is a chair that is painted with a collage of words - "Be the Real you" is one of the phrases.  She asked, "Grandma what does that mean?"

I said, "When you feel sad - just be sad - don't pretend to be happy." She says, "Oh". 

 

(Here I am at my display of my art therapy quilts. Being Me.)

I know that sounds simplistic - and I also know it isn't always easy to just be your real self. However, life is so so much more simple when you can.

It may be my age - but the older I get the less patience I have pretending or hiding. 

 

Making a resolution to Be Yourself - will be life changing.

It reminds me of the year Martha Beck had - where she didn't lie.  Even the little ones - where you say you're okay, when you are not.

(This was posted on Instagram - capturing me on my way to a ladies camping trip.Totally winning at summer!)

 

At first it may seem uncomfortable, especially if you are used to hiding your real self - but over time, as you become more real - your life will be more comfortable for you to be in it.

As I look back over 2022 - looking through my photos, which are many - I had another wonderful year.  Family, Friends, Art and Adventures.  Life is good. 

I tried new new things and look forward to learning some more.

I had way too much fun -  Days of joy = a year of fun.

I am not one who is happy to see this year go - I will hold on to so many memories that I made.

And look forward to making more.  

Exploring new rivers.

And Bike paths.

And, hiking trails.

Sharing my Art and finding new friends.

As the new year approaches, I look forward to more of what I love.

May you have a year stuffed full of what makes you You.

 

Thank you to all who shared your time we me this past year and I look forward to more moments that bring me smiles as I scroll through my photos.

 

Your year will hold every choice you make - I hope you say yes to doing more of what the real you wants to do. 

May your New Year's resolution be - Be Yourself.