It could always be worse. . .

There are times when that phrase helps kick me out of self pity or mild depression.  Other times, it causes me to open the back pack I'm carrying, cram all my actual thoughts and feelings inside, zip it up tight and carry it around on my back.

I am living the tension of the grateful reality that my car accident could have been so much worse juxtaposing the reality that I have indeed experienced trauma and it is still affecting me deeply. To deny my reality and my struggle just because someone else had it so much worse will be cramming unprocessed emotion into a backpack that I'll carry around until I'm too tired to carry that thing and I throw it to the floor. All the emotion spills in a jumbled mess.  As convoluted as my emotions are right now, the tangled, dark mess of a backpack spilling out is worse.

For this reason, I will keep journaling my real emotion through the dark to get to the light.  I will keep feeling and talking about where I actually am because I believe this is a healthier way to live than the cramming of emotion I've done in the past. And someday, all my posts won't be about healing and recovering.  Someday.

Quote of the Week

¨Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, 

we must carry it within us or we find it not.¨

-  Ralph Waldo Emerson

A Week of Beauty

I spent the week immersed in beauty.

I walked through the door of time and space to join 400 years of audiences that loved and hated and laughed and sorrowed with the characters of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing.  

I was captured by the beauty and power of theater through Eugene O'Neill's gripping truth of the universal pain of isolation within a dysfunctional family in his play Long Day's Journey Into Night.

I was revived by the lush and vibrant color green and the sound of the river racing ever to renew even the lowest places.

My body is yet tired.  My mind, recovering.  But new life was breathed into my soul through the beauty of the entire experience of Ashland, Oregon as I joined 4 teachers and 21 students from our school. From start to finish, the moments left their mark on me and I am changed by the exposure to color, creativity, character, energy, and people. I am grateful.

Quote of the week

"If you truly knew all that people had been through you would get down on your knees and kiss the feet of every person you came across."
     - from the book Everything You Ever Wanted by Jillian Lauren

Afraid of the shadows

I was eating breakfast and reading in my nook, sun beams warming me through the window.  With a little adrenaline rush, I jumped and shook my hand to rid it of the spider with extremely long legs that crawled across it.

But wait.  I didn't feel a spider crawl across my hand. With legs that long, I would have.  Returning my hand to the table, the spider reappeared.  Just a shadow.  Mr. Spider was outside the window blocking the sun on my hand in the shape of his little body and spiny legs.

There are several spiders outside the window of my soul. They are blocking the sun and causing shadow spiders to crawl across my heart. Unfortunately, I'm jumping at all of them.  Shadows of cars running red lights.  Shadows of relational triggers causing me the pain of past memories.  Shadows of my past experiences with adrenal fatigue.  Shadows of the weight of plans put on hold yet again. Even though I'm not actually feeling the spiny legs crawling on my skin, I remember how it felt.

I'm looking forward to the day when the shadow doesn't make me flinch in fear. I will get to the place where I can watch these shadows move across my hand and not recoil.  I will learn to watch and release.  I am learning. Crawl on shadows. The sun will fully shine through my window unhindered once again.

Deflated balloons

The beautiful hot air balloon called the Locke Family Adventure has been poised for ascension.  After two years of anticipating a move to Thailand, the sky was beckoning with the beauty of dawn.  As we climbed into the basket and prepared for the anchored ropes to be released, there was great apprehension for all of us.  Will we, in fact, fly this time?  Should we get our hopes up and send our hearts on ahead?

I wish we wouldn't have.  One neglected stop light, a concussion and adrenal fatigue later and the hot air is seeping out.  I can't do it.  From my depths, the knowing has been rising to consciousness. I cannot endure the stress of this transition and be healthy on the other side.  I will never be able to fulfill the requirements of the job, let alone my own expectations of myself in that community.  I presently cannot care for my beautiful kids here in a supportive, familiar community, much less care for them while they transition to a new life in a new land.

In honesty, the reasons I would float into the rising sun is not from faith or wisdom or adventure or self care. No. The fear of disappointing people is at the top of list once again.  I am disappointing my husband and daughters who have been chomping at the bit for 2 years to fly away.  I am disappointing my friends and students on the other side of the globe waiting for us to come. I am disappointing those who live vicariously through our insanity. I am disappointing those who are sick of hearing of the ups and downs of our journey and are ready for us to just go already.  I am disappointing those who are expecting us to follow through in faith, believing the accident a plan of the enemy to thwart us and healing miracles will happen as we go.

I cannot. With every restless night that moves me closer to departure, I inch toward panic in the deep places of my soul.

The burner is turned off, the balloon is slowly losing it's fullness and lift.  I'm afraid the giant nylon rainbow will settle on the basket before I have the strength to climb out. Will I suffocate under the weight of a deflated balloon?  I might. Or perhaps I'll simply be hidden long enough to heal and arise wrapped in the beauty of the color that covers me.

Quote of the Week

This is an original thought from my amazing 10 year old son, given to me on Mother's Day.

Authenticity

Genuine:  Truly what something is said to be; authentic.

I am drawn to genuine people.  I long for authentic relationships, conversations, encounters with people and with God.  I have an insatiable need for honesty and vulnerability and realness.  Facades, games, pretense, pedestals, living on the surface - it saps the life out of me.  We're all messy somewhere, in some corner of our lives, every one of us.  We're all human.  

I'm not ashamed of my mess anymore. The only reason I ever hold back information about my life is to protect those in the story who aren't so ready to have their dirty laundry hanging out for all to judge, or because the person I am talking to might not be able to handle the fact that I have, indeed, kicked a hole in the wall or punched my husband or swore at my kids.  I don't withhold because I'm ashamed.  I may withhold because I don't want your judgment, your rejection, your condescending solutions to my problems. I'll hide the mess to dodge the condescension.  But then you won't really know me and you'll think you really like the person who is actually the inauthentic me.  

My closest friends can hear all the garbage and their jaw doesn't hit the floor.  They don't change the conversation or pull back from me just a little.  They don't try to fix me, they love me.  They walk with me. They sit with me but offer hope, not answers. They offer me the strength of their loving presence in the middle of my mess.  And then change happens.  Answers come.  Life is given.  Vulnerability begets vulnerability and the relationship is authentic.  We are known and not rejected.  

I am so thankful that I have these friends.  It is my goal to be this friend, this mom, this wife, this woman.  I aspire to authenticity.

Quote of the week

¨If a problem comes along, a promise will come next.  If a promise comes first, then a problem will come next, just so you can get excited about the space that you are outworking this promise in because we are not outworking the problem.  You understand that, right? We are outworking a promise.  Everything God does is a positive.  When our life gets presented with a negative, He will give us a promise.  That promise will give us a positive to focus on because the positive is where we outwork the negative.  We are not called to outwork a negative.  If you have a problem it is so you can outwork your promise!¨
                                                                           --  Graham Cooke

Hmmmm.  I'm trying to figure out if my promise came before the problem and trying to remember what it might be.  :)  Whatever the case, I need to find the promise and focus on the positive outworking of that promise because I am definitely feeling like all I can see is the negative and I'm finding myself trying to outwork the negative.

Milkshake Mess

My closest relationships feel messier than ever.  I cannot do the work to make them better.  I'm empty.  Not only do I have no ability to fix things, but my minimal threshold of stress coupled with my bent toward anger and yelling seem to be making everything a whole lot worse.  I was reading through old Locke Adventure Updates I've written and came across this.  It was applicable Oct. 20, 2014 and it's applicable right now.  

  I was having coffee with a friend when a beautiful little girl about 5 years old in a colorful sundress came bounding into the coffee shop with her daddy.  She was talking and bouncing and full of joy.  Her daddy handed her a full milkshake and the giddy joy continued . . . for a minute.  And then the milkshake crashed to the floor.  Loud sobs echoed through the coffee shop almost as quickly as the cup hit the ground.  And though, sadly, this young daddy could not do a very good job of comforting his devastated little princess, I immediately knew EXACTLY what my Daddy is doing for me as I look at the milkshake on the floor and sob my eyes out because I've made a big ol' mess . . . again.  He gets on his knee, cups my face in his hands, looks me directly in the eye and says, "This mess is no problem.  I love you and we're ok.  You're beautiful and you're mine."  And then he holds me close until I can stop sobbing and says, "Let's try this again, " and hands me another milkshake.
  Sometimes I'm handed 3 in a day.  Sometimes, I manage to hang on to that thing for awhile.  But whether it's a mess or all contained neatly in my cup, my Daddy is in love with me and we're ok.  Heath and I need to work things to resolution when I drop the milkshake, but Daddy and I are ok. 

  I'm taking a deep breath and relaxing into Daddy's arms knowing I'm loved no matter how much milkshake is sticking to the floor tonight.  

Poem of the Week

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

Messy

This past week was rough in every area of my life.

Diagnosis of concussion and adrenal fatigue being the cause of my inability to focus, remember some things, handle stress, sleep well, make decisions, keep time and remembering events on a normal continuum, reading for long periods, etc. was a lot harder for me to handle than experiencing bodily injuries.

When we returned from a year in Africa 7 years ago, I had a bad case of adrenal fatigue that took me 3 years of hiding and doing only things to promote healing to fully recover.  It was a physical, emotional and spiritual crash.  When my doctor affirmed adrenal fatigue as a present problem, I immediately knew what I'm up against.  Yes, I'm a different person, I know how to take care of myself better, and I'm under the care of a great doctor who can speed up the healing process, but it feels scary to be back here. Even so, I've done this before.  I can do it again.  I am determined to heal.  Fully. . .

Yet the honest flip side of my determination is that I simply don't feel able or prepared to put as much effort into healing as I had to 7 years ago.  It took all my focus. All of life revolved around choices for healing. Ultimately, that meant pairing life down to the bare minimum. I don't feel like I have that luxury right now with 4 older children and an opportunity to move to Thailand on the horizon.  But what choice do I have?  It is that or the scenario below.

Yesterday, I overdid it.  By 4:30 I was completely spent and completely lost it on my family.  I wish I had a redo button.  I wish I could erase memories, theirs and mine.  I wish I could take back everything I said and did. I wish that anger wasn't such a familiar vice. I wish I were a quiet, patient, subdued person who could think before I spoke. I wish I could do this healing process alone. But that's not my reality. Especially not right now.

So what is left for me?  Hoping for the strength of forgiveness and unconditional love to be something real in my closest relationships.  I feel like I'm flailing and failing.  I feel the worst version of me with the people that I'm supposed to love the most.  I want to hide so I don't hurt anyone with my inability to cope right now.  Or run away.  This is the messiest I've felt in my head in years.

I know I won't be here forever.  But it is the place that I am.  I'm not needing answers, only to be heard and sent love and prayers.  Thanks for joining me at the window of my soul, even in the dark.

Guilty

Somebody tell me it's OK that I'm siting in the kitchen at 1:05 AM with my laptop, a spoon, and a half gallon of Rocky Road ice cream eating my way to happiness.  Or depression.  Or a sugar coma so I can sleep. :)

Why do I feel guilty. . .

• For slowing down?
• For saying no to people and play dates and things to do?  
• For letting people help me?  
• For making my only real job be about healing and receiving?
• For taking a nap when there's so much to be done?
• For simply "being?"
• For eating WAY TOO MUCH Rocky Road ice cream?

I hate letting people down.  I hate letting myself down.  I hate feeling like I'm failing.  So this takes me all the way back to an earlier post about Harold and the Purple crayon.  Maybe as I rest, I'll be drawing some new pictures to step into, changing some of these old perceptions and creating new ones.  These old ones feel heavy and life sapping.  I am desperate for some life giving perceptions as I let the laundry sit there and not care about the dirty dishes and unvacuumed stairs and amount of school work my kids AREN'T doing and then take a nap instead.

The view from the window of my soul tonight as it's covered in Rocky Road and tears.