Detour

Lately life is like the lyrics to that old song...

Detour, there's a muddy road ahead, detour
Paid no mind to what it said
Detour, oh these bitter things I find,
Should have read

That detour sign

This week, the words really hit home as we are planning our healing road trip. There really are detours because large sections of the highway we would usually zip north on are closed due to flooding along the Missouri river. Now this flooding started months ago, and really should be clear by  now, but of course, the waters are taking their time to recede.Even after they recede, the road will need extensive repair. So, detour will be the theme of our first day on the road.

But, you know, it kind of seems a fitting way to start the trip. Life has been just one big detour after another for us.Just this morning, my son and I were checking maps and planning our route. Since we love road trips, we came to the conclusion that the worst thing that will happen is that we will see some places we have never seen before. Not an unpleasant outcome.

Last year, we inadvertently became part of a Homecoming celebration in a small southern town because of a detour. It was great fun actually, people were lining the street waiting for the parade to start, and everyone waved as we drove through. Pretty cool detour.

Now, in life, some of the detours aren't that pleasant, but as long as you keep heading forward, you manage to get through them, or around them. That is actually why we are taking this trip, one more step forward in our healing process. In my experience healing has never been a direct route to begin with. How many times have we had the flu and thought we were over it to be sick again a few hours later. Healing is a process. Not always a pleasant process. The fever that indicates our body is attempting to heal itself is often more uncomfortable than the original problem. But, it is something that has to happen, just like the inevitable detours along life's road.

Detours often make you think that you can't get there from here, but that is never true. Detours only mean you can't get there the way you originally planned. The original route has been compromised somehow, the road is underwater, or being constructed, but there is always an alternate route.Will it feel unfamiliar? Yes. Will it take you over roads you haven't previously traveled? Probably. But, as long as you follow the signs it will get you where you need to go, and once in a while you may find yourself being welcomed as part of a celebration you didn't know was taking place, along a road not to nowhere, but a road to recovery.

Just make sure you heed that detour sign!

Pride Goeth before!

Not long ago my bank called,no not one of those auto-mated calls, my bank vice president called.She left a message on my machine, "Hey, EB, this is Penny*,I'm concerned about you, give me a call."  Now, not only is my bank Vice President a she, but we have known each other for years, and call each other by our first names, or in my case initials.This is what comes from banking in a small community, with a small bank (up until 5 years ago 2 branches, now 4). Truth is I should have called her at least 2 weeks ago, but pride being one of the issues I struggle with, I kept thinking 'tomorrow'.Then after so many tomorrows had passed I was too embarrassed. Well we all know how that works! Pride is a hard place to be when life is kicking you in the backside over and over.

So, this morning when she went through her list of overdrawn accounts she saw mine there, and gave me a call. When I called her back a few minutes after she left her message, she didn't mention the bank balance until after she asked how I was, how my son was, etc. Then I said, "I know I am overdrawn" and before I could finish my thought she said, oh good, I was worried something had happened and just called to check on you. We discussed my situation, and the conversation ended with her assuring me that my overdraft protection had kicked in, and  telling me to take care and keep in touch. Never once did she mention how overdrawn I was, or give me an ultimatum to come up with the finds. Just relief that I was working on it, and take care.

So, I hung up the phone feeling stupid for not having called sooner, an thankful that I bank there instead of one of the BIG banks. I felt stupid because I know that this is how my bank handles things. This is the bank that gave a single Mom with a handicapped child and a part-time job a car loan, then when the Mom got sick a few months later the bank President stopped by my house to pick up my deposits and payments. So, it was just pride that kept me from calling them.

Pride, now there is an enigma if there ever was. We should all be proud of our accomplishments, have pride in who we are. I was trying to figure out where the line is between good healthy pride and the pride that becomes unhealthy, and keeps us mired in shame and embarrassment when neither is called for. I have no problems telling you that I am a proud woman. I have had an amazing blessed life. I have accomplished many things that I have every right to be proud of. I was just remembering a few days ago a story from my life where I was very proud-the healthy kind, and someone else embarrassed herself because of pride-the unhealthy kind.

This story takes place before EB was the Fat Lady, she was still just the Fat Girl.I am not putting myself down, I really will write a post someday about why I call myself this and it's a good thing. But you will have to wait for that. This story takes pace my junior year of high school, back in the 1960's in a rural area of the midwest. If you have ever seen a movie from the 50's or 60's portraying high school in small town America, you have a good idea of our high school. Now every school has slightly different traditions, and the tradition at this school was for the Junior class to give the prom to the Senior class as a gift.It was more than a dance, it  was a grand soiree, a party given in honor of the Senors.The Junior class raised money and paid for the prom. The Seniors got to go to prom for free, and there was a buffet dinner and the dance. It really was a lovely tradition.

In small town America the Prom is often a very big deal, and in this town everyone showed up for the beginning of the evening. The Senior couples lined up in the front of the school in all of their finery and had the Promenade.All of their parents and grandparents and uncles and cousins were there, pictures were taken, and everyone got to see how beautiful everyone looked in their finery.

 There was a Senior Prom King and Queen, but there was one other highly sought after role and that was Junior Prom Hostess.  Every student in school voted for Senior Prom Queen, but only the Junior class voted for Hostess. Being chosen Junior class Hostess was a very big deal.The Senior Queen and King weren't announced until later in the evening, about halfway through the dance, but the Junior Hostess was announced a day before the dance. The young woman chosen by the Junior class became the Official Hostess for the party.As the Senor Class Promenade made it's way to the ballroom they were announced and presented to the Hostess. It was like a scene out of Victorian times, the Seniors were guests at a ball given in their honor and the hostess received them like she was a great Lady or Duchess. Junior class hostess was a very coveted position.

So, there we were sitting in homeroom, and the announcements were being made over the PA. Because of our place in the alphabet I sat in front of the most 'popular' girl in school. Key Club Sweetheart, Homecoming Queen, etc., etc., etc. Barbie doll cute and Blonde. The announcements conclude with the proclamation of Junior Class Hostess...drum roll please...The Fat Girl-OK they announced me by name, but that is who I was!!! Well, behind me, Miss Barbie Doll fell out of her desk. Literally, when they started the announcement she had assumed it was one more feather in her cap and started to stand up, and was halfway there when my name came over the PA. She gasped and fell backwards. Fortunately she wasn't hurt except for her pride. Me, I was shocked,to say the least, but very touched that my peers thought highly of me.

Pride, when and where does it cross that line? How do we keep our pride healthy enough that we don't cross over into the place where it can keep us from being the best we can be? I think we have to remind ourselves every day that we are worthy individuals. In this day and age that is sometimes so very hard to do. Seems like everyone is trying to make themselves feel better by marginalizing, demonizing someone else. How very sad is that.

But how did I get so tired that I allowed old behaviors, old fears to surface and let pride cross over the line. I believe it was Margaret Thatcher who said "You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it." With everythign that has been going wrong in my life, I occasionally give in to some old fears. The important thing is for me to recognise them as soon as possible so that I may return to living in the moment.When we are in the midst of a life situation that incolves pain or suffering, it seems  as if the pain and suffering is all there is, and we get weary.So I need to remember to rest, and to not feel guilt, or shame, or embarassment because my life has handed me nothing but lemons. I need to fight the battle, no matter how many times it rears its ugly head.

I admit that when things are going badly, it is so easy to feel overwhelmed.Believe me, I know! I know that when in the midst of troubles we are often at a loss as to how this could possibly turn out good. But I also know that we have the choice to believe that it will. I know that it is all too easy to believe that my life is harder than anyone else, that I am the only one I know going thruogh this much hardship. But the truth is every person you meet is struggling with something. Life is not easy for any of us. So we must remember to choose to live in the moment, to choose in this moment to have healthy pride in our choices and accomplishments and not let old fears and behaviors cause us to trip over the line into the unhealthy kind of pride. Because we all know what 'pride goeth before...' and I choose to stay on my feet!!

Redecorating!!!

LOOK, I have redecorated!!

Well, when I say I have, I mean to say that I won a blog makeover many months ago from my dear friend Paige's blog The Nurse Mommy http://www.thenursemommy.com/. The contest was for a makeover from Virtual Serendipity http://www.visualserendipity.com/. So the lovely folks at Virtual Serendipity hooked me up with Margaret http://www.theworldasiseeitbloganddesigns.com/   , VOILA, I have a new look!!! Well, it wasn't exactly voila, Margaret was EXTREMELY patient with me, and so easy to work with. When we started the process last weekend, I had no idea what I wanted, but eventually it hit me, and Margaret got it right immediately!! THANK YOU Margaret!!
Thank you Paige for running really cool contests on your really cool blog, Thank you Visual Serendipity for hooking me up with Margaret!

The clay piece pictured in the header is the storyteller sculpture that my son did in elementary school. It represents who I am these days and it reminds me of how incredible his mind and imagination have always been!

So, hopefully, working on the design has reminded me that I enjoy sharing my stories here, and will give me the kick in the backside I need to get back to doing it regularly!

Peace and Blessings,

Has it really been a Month?

Wow, has it really been that long since I wrote a blog post? Where have the days gone?

So much keeping my mind occupied, and just can't seem to find the muse these days. I love to write, I love putting words together in a way that makes people glad they read them. So, why am I blocked now.

Well, there was the depression that set in around my 10th wedding anniversary. I miss my husband so much, and I managed to grovel in my grief for weeks. I am starting to feel better, the anniversary of his being killed is in a few days, and I will muddle through. My therapist says I am normal, that there isn't an instruction book for how long it takes to grieve. I love my therapist!

Then there have been the ongoing health issues. My son is feeling better, but I am really struggling. But as my favorite quote reads...Shame on the body for breaking down while the spirit perseveres~John Dryden.

Of course we add in the financial struggles, a house in foreclosure. very limited resources, and the worry that accompanies all of that. Being poor seems to be a full time job these days. Trying to find a way to bring the mortgage current, and a way to save our house-which is a wonderful home in a very safe neighborhood-all of these things require way more energy than I seem to have at my disposal these days. But, we struggle on.Wish I could think of a fundraiser to pay off the house!! Hey, a girl can dream can't she?

I really don't have a point with any of this. Just thought I would update folks on why I haven't been blogging. Whining doesn't get me anywhere, but every now and then I seem to be indulging in it for a bit. Need to get my self in hand!!

I am so blessed, with all of the problems in life, I have so much to be grateful for. I have an incredible son, the most amazing person I have ever met. Autism has truly been more of a blessing than a challenge these days.

I have wonderful friends, who care about me, and encourage and support me,and would do so even more  if I would share my troubles with them more often. I tend to be a very independent person, and admitting to my problems is hard for me. Maybe that is what the point is today, a way for me to admit that I am a mess and I need help. That is hard for me, and most people. Admitting that we need help, then the next step, seeking help and accepting help. Why is that so hard? If I had the answer to that I wouldn't be in the doldrums this month!!

So I will srew up my courage, and accept the enCOURAGEment of my friends!

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.~~Ambrose Redmoon ~~ We are each of us some of the most courageous people I know. We get up every day and judge that no matter what we may fear we have the mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty- so we set forth on our day. What? you may be saying. I don't do that , I just get up and get ready for work, or to take care of my family. Well, when we choose to get up when the alarm goes off we are preparing to VENTURE forth into a new day.We have no idea what that day will bring, perhaps it will be a routine day, or perhaps we will stumble into a grand and glorious miracle or a difficult obstacle, and yet we Venture forth. Each of us has some challenge in our lives, and we never know what challenges the people we are interacting with through the day are dealing with, and yet we PERSEVERE in the face of those challenges. Whether we are dealing with health issues, mind issues, or spirit issues, we choose to go about our day and accomplish what needs to be accomplished we are persevering in the face of difficulty. Off to persevere! Peace and Blessings, EstherBelle

Conversation with the Grackle

I have mentioned that I have a depression disorder. I don't talk about all that much, as I take good meds, and I have an excellent therapist.So, I honestly don't worry too much. But, as with all of us with mental health diseases, I have days when all of my coping skills come to naught. I have always called these days my BlackBird days.

BlackBird days are the days when it feels as if a huge black bird has flown into my field of vision, wings outspread, covering my eyes and my mind from seeing anything but the darkness. I knew I had the right therapist when shortly after beginning to work with her, she mentioned something she called Black Bird days!! I nearly wept with joy to know that she got it!!! She is an integral part of my healing and growth.

My BlackBird days are much fewer and farther between than they have ever been, and when I do have them it seems it is more a matter of grief than mental illness these days. Grief, is the most difficult process!! It rolls over me in the oddest times, just when I think I am healing here comes a black day!! This week was my late husband's birthday. Plus I am dealing with the feelings that my mobility issues have brought to the fore, and the weather is just middle of July, midwest UGLY!! So there I was sitting on the deck, kinda feeling sorry for myself, which I honestly try not to allow!!

It was early morning, my favorite time of day for my deck. The sun just starting to approach the horizon in beautiful cotton candy pinks and pale lemony yellows. The morning song of the birds a wonderful backdrop to meditation.Then I saw the grackle, sitting at the end of my deck. Now a grackle is part of the family of birds known as blackbirds. It is often mistaken for a crow, it is longer, and its tail is different,and its behavior is a bit different. The thing I love about watching the grackles in my yard is that they do not hop, they walk, and the adult birds are very concerned about the younger birds. Usually, though, the grackles don't get very close to my deck, they tend to stay out in the open in the yard. So I was surprised to have a grackle sitting there about 6 feet away.

Of course, I said good morning, I always speak to any of the birds or animals that visit me when I am on the deck. Most often the bird or squirrel will scamper away, unless it is one of my regular visitors. the critters who have become used to me being there. This bird was not one of my regular visitors, so I was surprised when he just looked me in the eye, and walked a bit closer.

Now, this is the part where you can decide that I imagine things, and I would not disagree with you. But, to quote Albert Einstein...Imagination is more important than knowledge.

The grackle continued to look at me, and then the grackle spoke to me. No, the grackle did not SPEAK with words, but the grackle did speak, in the not unpleasant squawk of the grackle-it is less jarring than a crow. Hmmm, I took it to be a greeting, good morning right back 'atcha' type of thing, so I continued to speak to the grackle.

I thanked brother grackle for visiting me on my deck, and I talked about the weather, and all the time the grackle was listening and vocalizing. We had some companionable silences, and then I began to tell brother grackle about my images of Black Birds. I shared that the image of the Black Bird blinding my vision has always been uncomfortable for me. While I was sharing, brother grackle turned a bit, and I saw the most amazing thing. Grackles, are not black! Oh they look black when you see them in your yard, but sitting this close, and in the morning sunshine I saw the truth. This bird was anything but black, the feathers are wonderfully iridescent in all of the colors you can imagine!Well, that made me think!

So I talked to the grackle about his feathers, and the beautiful colors, and I started to see that my mood this morning was not a part of my depression,not a part of any illness but a normal part of the grieving process. I have several things that I am grieving. Of course, the loss of my husband is the major loss, but other parts of my life are lost to me more every day. Because of the neurological diseases I no longer am able to sew, and I miss sewing. I can no longer wield a chef's knife with skill as I cook, and I miss cooking. I can no longer just decide to go for a walk, or visit a museum. Walking is more and more difficult and painful and I must decide whether I need my cane, my walker, or my wheelchair today.

But, sitting there seeing the beautiful colors of the black bird on my deck was a gift. I could see clearly that things aren't always as you originally perceive them, and just because something changes, doesn't look like you thought it should or would, doesn't mean that it doesn't look like it is supposed to! I often say perception is reality. But the really marvelous thing is that when your perception of something changes, the reality must change with it. So, instead of sitting on my deck feeling the oppression of a BlackBird day coming on, I could learn to see that not all black birds are black. Not all sadness is depression, and sometimes you just have to grieve the things that you have lost. Part of the grieving process is to to come to terms with the fact that your life will be different, and to help you move towards that new normal.

I thought about all of these things as I sat there with the grackle, and then the grackle turned and walked away. I am so glad the grackle visited me this morning, blessed me with a conversation and a lesson. Amazing that Spirit would send me a helper in the form of something I feared-a Black Bird. How often do our fears keep us from perceiving things as there are? Perception, just like life, is changeable, and those who can adapt will always be open  to the beauty that can come even in the form of a black bird who wasn't ever black to begin with!!

Road Trip-a Healing prescription!!

The summer was always our favorite time of year! Starting with Mothers Day until the end of July we were celebrating something every couple of weeks. Mothers Day-Memorial Day-Fathers Day-My birthday-4th of July-My husbands birthday-and our wedding anniversary, every two weeks or so all summer long. That all changed for me when he was killed a few weeks after our wedding anniversary, and the long, difficult healing process of grief began.

The morning before my husband was killed, we sat on the deck for a couple of hours. We talked and planned. Mr. Bill was starting a new job that day, and we discussed getting back on track financially, and we discussed our 10th wedding anniversary. We were married at a courthouse,our son the best man and  the snack bar attendant as my witness. We planned to have a vow renewal, a small wedding for our 10th anniversary.A wedding, with a beautiful dress that I had already designed- I spent a long time in the theatre as a costume designer-it would have been a spectacular dress! We would make the same trip that we made as a family honeymoon trip-going back to the Black Hills, a wonderfully spiritual magical place that we all adore.As my friend Michelle referred to it,"the place where love and family became one!"

July 30 is that 10th anniversary. As part of my continuing healing, I have just booked the trip for my son and I to take. We are not going until a few weeks later, I want this trip to be a new beginning, and if we went on the anniversary it would hurt too much.So we will go after all of the days that are no longer celebratory for me, and we are hoping to continue learning how to celebrate life again.

I firmly believe in the idea of sacred space. I after all, spend a lot of time on my deck, which is for me a place of safety and sacredness. Most faith traditions have an idea of sacred space. For me, sacred space is often more a state of being than an actual place, but there are also places where we can instantly feel more at peace, more able to access the things of Spirit. My deck is sacred space, but when I am away from home it is almost as if that sacred place is where ever I am. I visited the home of a dear friend, and her deck, which looked nothing like mine, felt the same, and was for me a refuge of meditation and worship. Staying in a convention hotel, I once slipped out of the room without waking my roommate to find a lovely secluded chair in the lobby that felt like a sacred space for my prayers and meditation. A sacred space feels right, it feels safe, and nurturing, and healing.

One of Mr. Bill and my favorite ways to spend a Sunday afternoon, was to take a Sunday drive. We always planned to buy a house, and we would drive through different neighborhoods just looking at the for sale signs. I often made him a little crazy, sometimes we would turn into a neighborhood, and I immediately asked him to get out of it, it FELT wrong. Now some of these were lovely neighborhoods, in the best parts of town, but the Spirit of the place was just disturbing. When we were ready to actually purchase a home, we looked at dozens, and I drove our realtor crazy too. When we turned onto the street we live on, I felt safe and nurtured. As our realtor opened the front door of this house before I stepped a foot across the threshold , I knew I was home.

Home is what I feel in the Black Hills. I think because it was where our life as a family began it will always be a sacred place for me. So, as my spirit heals, I feel the need to return to that place to honor the memory of the time before the grief, and perhaps to move into a time where the grief can heal. Paradoxically, I will be traveling back to the place where I experienced my first symptom of neurological disease (you can read about it in the blog post from 4/29 A Glimpse Into One Part of My Life).

Last spring when my son's health and our financial problems became an issue, Spirit told me that this trip would be provided in September. Thanks to our "Great American Road Trip" last fall, I have enough rewards points that I only need to pay for two nights lodging-and those will earn me enough points that I will be able to receive free lodging again next year!!! So, the majority expense will be gas and food, and I know when Spirit has promised something, provision will be provided. My therapist said this week that this trip is just the prescription she would write for me.

So, as I move through the minefield of birthdays and anniversaries this summer, I feel stronger, and part of that is because I know I am supposed to go home to the place where love and family became one!!

Fourth of July

I am not a very patriotic person. Yes, I pray for our military, and I love to read history books. But I am just not one to get all worked up over a flag waving holiday. My late husband, on the other hand was a Marine, who loved the 4th of July!! We really did balance and complete each other! I tend to think of him often on these flag waving days because of the flags flying in our subdivision. Our subdivision has approximately 100 homes. It has been a close knit neighborhood since the late 1930's early 1940's.My home is over 75 years old.

This neighborhood welcomes new families from the moment you turn into it's streets. Mr. Bill was so happy here. He soon noticed that on every holiday, flags flew, and it did not take him long to become part of the team that put them up and took them down. I Think every utility pole in the neighborhood gets a flag. Which means that there is a flag in front of most houses.

I usually sit on my deck, but for some reason this morning, I was sitting in my wheelchair on my front porch as the flags were being placed. The guys all waved at me, and I was pleased to watch them place the flags. They still miss Mr. Bill I am told!

That is the flag in front of my house!




 It was a beautiful morning this morning and I took a couple of pictures in my yard...

This is my ramp and that bush needs trimmed!

My sedum is blooming...

As well as my shastas and daylillies...


I had a lovely morning, even though I am using my wheelchair today instead of my cane or walker. Just one of those days!! I don't have anything profound to share, just a slice of my life today. Thanks for stopping by! I totally appreciate it when you do!!!

Blessings,
EstherBelle