'One'... 'Two'... and that damned rug got yanked!

Sometimes the letting go happens in stages, one small painful piece at a time ever-so-slowly pulled from your grip. It happens in such a way that although unpleasant, it feels almost... survivable. Other times, the letting go, well it feels much more like the rug you are standing on- the very same rug you have come to trust, that you count on to be there to keep you standing solid on your feet, just got yanked so hard right out from beneath you that it sends you flying aimlessly through the air causing you to land so hard on your ass that your teeth rattle a bit inside your head from the impact. And when you open your eyes, and you look around for something (anything) secure, maybe even safe, to grab onto to help you back to your feet, you find there is nothing (and no one) to cling to. Nothing... but air. That kind of letting go, well that happens when you haven't embraced (or accepted) the letting go one small painful piece at a time. God does not wish for us to remain the same, whether that be in health or wealth (or lack thereof), or in relationship, or in career, or in our level of faith. His desire is for us to always be growing and changing. For our mind, our heart and our spirit to be ever-evolving into a better version of ourselves than we were the year before, the month before, the day before, heck even the second before. He alone sees how truly beautiful we are unwrapped. The difficult part, my friend, is allowing him to unwrap that beautiful package that we are.

Two weeks ago my life was what I will call 'manageable' (I can hear the crowd erupt in laughter and the stage hand hasn't even lifted up the 'Laugh Now' prompt). Although not pleasant, I pretty much knew what to expect each day. Get out of bed, say good morning to my side-kick headache, make a two-minute mental calculation of what little (or lot) I would be able to accomplish in my fourteen to sixteen hour day, begin the process of physically stepping into my day, and then accept the reality that most (if not all) of what I had planned could not, or did not, actually happen. Then I would just get in to bed to do it all over again the next day. You see, with ongoing headaches (since February 10th) ranging a 5 to 7 on an average 1 to 10 pain scale, even getting off the couch to do a sink load of dishes, wipes me out physically, mentally and emotionally for hours. Just doing a load of laundry, or making my bed, or tidying up my bedroom... wipes me out. Such simple, even small chores, yet my energy bank continues to go in the red. It took a lot of days of overdoing it for me to get to that point of 'manageable'. At first, I would power through household chores or errands, willing myself to do better- to be better (damn it!) only to find myself back on that couch. There were days, although now I have lost track of just how many, that I would spend an entire day on the couch only leaving it to take potty breaks, make food, or to retrieve a needed item out of my reach. Somewhere in me, I knew this wasn't healthy for me, but neither was pushing myself to the point that I would inevitably end up back on that couch. This had become my 'normal'... even though I dislike using the word normal since there really is no such thing. Then, two weeks ago, the dots somehow lined up. We, my doctor and I, solved the math equation that had been stumping us. We found the common underlying factor in my health decline. You might have just seen 'Congratulations' confetti blow out onto the screen, but me, sitting in the chair across from her, well everything around me went hazy grey. I left her office, climbed into my car, and realized I had just breathed in the kind of heavy air that I was very unprepared to breathe. For quite a while, words did not even form in my brain let alone come out of my mouth. And somewhere inside, I just knew. God had just counted 'One'... 'Two'... and that damned rug got yanked!

Over the past two weeks I have been sorting through my belongings with the intent to keep what matters most, and to sell or dispose of those things that do not. This is not an easy chore on the heart or on the spirit. I have had to sit with my emotions (not fun) and allow myself to be angry, to be sad, to accept that all of the colorful plans I had put in place for myself had suddenly lost life right before my eyes. Not only my mind, but my heart, has had to accept that I will not be keeping my home that I have bonded with beyond the love-hate stage, or my collection of baskets that has taken me over two and a half years to put together, or my plants and flowers that greet me with new life each spring growing in size and number as they establish... or any and all of the other things that have either ended up with a blue or green for sale tag or found themselves re-homed to a trash bag. And my book collection (sad emoji) that took me the past six-plus years to re-grow, driving off in cars I don't own and landing on bookshelves in homes I will never visit. It took a bit, but the word for what is happening in and around me suddenly rose to the surface of my mind. Grief. I am grieving what was, what is, what could have been, what won't be- all of it. And it hurts. It is very unpleasant. It has caused hot tears to surface and fall without warning. It has caused my words to go silent inside me. I haven't even had a desire to do those things that bring me joy, like writing, or reading, or getting out in the sunshine, or calling friends to just catch up. Mostly, I have just felt broken. I know and accept this change that is happening, but I don't have to like how it feels. And all of this... with ongoing daily headaches (Yuck!).

Today now marks just over four full weeks since that day I sat in my doctor's office (remember what I said about not even having the desire to do those things that bring me joy... like writing for instance). My home has been cleared out. Dump runs and trips to the storage units have now been checked off the list. Announcements have been made to family, friends, neighbors- even to strangers. Realtor forms have been signed. Goodbyes ended up happening in the wee hours of a dark Tuesday morning as I backed my Kia out of the driveway for the last time, my cat Baby siting in the passenger's seat next to me. I blinked back tears as I drove away knowing my adult son was still asleep inside while my car was inching closer to the airport that would take me states away while he stayed behind to deal with the aftermath of what remained on the floors, on the countertops, and in the cupboards & fridge of my home. The parting with my mobile was hard and painful, there is just no way around that truth. The parting with my son (yet again) well that has been extremely hard on my heart. No matter how old your children get, you are still their mother, and you still love them from that mother's heart. I have accepted that the plan for me, at least for now, takes me one direction... and my son a completely different direction. It still makes the parting no easier. And I am not convinced that the heaviness I felt pulling out of my driveway and away from the home that I believed was going to be my 'retirement cottage' was no less painful than the heaviness my son has felt staying behind cleaning up all the loose ends like sorting through the remains of isolated coffee mugs, half eaten bags of Terra root chips, and parting with the last piece of furniture that was to be handed off. Both of us have had to face an ending that has not felt pleasant or painless.

So what do you do when the rug gets yanked out? There is no simple way to describe the emotions that you are left with when all that you have come to know as predictable and expected is suddenly... not. Life as I knew it is no longer the same. Sure, I physically departed from my mobile and am taking some time to recover my physical health with hopes of improvement, but mentally and emotionally- well, that might take a bit longer. There is a strange thing that happens inside when you connect yourself with a picture of your life that you saw unfolding in a certain shade of vibrant blue (which I felt very prepared for)... only to find that your life is now being painted in more of a blooming yellow (definitely not what I was prepared for). To so many others who have the home, the marriage, the family, the car, the job- well, it is pretty easy for them to be full of encouragement and 'Praise Gods' for me. They may even be sincerely thrilled to watch me flip the page to a new chapter. Maybe they have seen this day coming all along- even if I chose not to. But in all honesty, turning this new page is harder than I thought it might be. A lot of days I feel like keeping my head under the covers and just grumbling. That's all I have the energy for. How (and where) am I supposed to find that strength, determination, and courage that every one else seems to think I have? Somehow, I cannot seem to find it in myself anymore. I feel like I went from rock bottom, to scaling the mountain tops of recovery with my hands lifted high to the sky, to suddenly tumbling out of control down that jagged hill landing in a thud at the bottom right in the valley of WTH just happened?! Believe it or not, this is a God nudge happening in my life. It has happened often enough that I recognize the route (Me: Emoji eye roll. God: Emoji laughing crying face).

So... here I am. No home. No consistent income. No grand prospects. No side kick, other than my constant headaches. And no flag to plant in my new land. Just me... my cat... and a storage unit full of things I could not part with. And a hell of a lot of excuses. You know the ones... What job am I supposed to have? What if I have no friends where I live? What if I don't make enough money, have enough food, never meet a nice man, never figure out where I am supposed to be... blah! blah! blah! And that is how the song goes. Over and over and over again on repeat like a record with a big scratch in it. Today, even with another stupid headache worse than yesterday, I need to regain a little bit of what it takes to connect my mind, with my heart, with my feet... to my faith. I know deep down that God does have a plan. In fact, a much better plan than I could ever think or imagine on my own. That giant sized gap you see between God's plan and my faith (or rather lack of faith)- well, that is me caught in the web of not believing that I deserve whatever He has for me. I can tell you right now, I can figure out the job, the home, the income, the land to plant my flag in... but without me accepting (or believing) that I deserve it, I will not confidently step forward. I will stay caught in this place of excuses, fear, doubt, uncertainty, incessant questioning & unpleasantness. In the beginning, when God started to gently tug at those things that I had a grip on, that was his way of easing me into what came next. Because I chose to tighten my grip, to hold even tighter no matter that things around me were becoming worse, God refrained from his gentle tugs. In turn, I stood my ground (so to speak) and planted my feet on that rug that wasn't intended for me to rely on. And in his infinite wisdom and grace, God counted 'One'... 'Two'... and he yanked that damned rug right out from beneath me! I do sincerely appreciate if you are silently cheering me on in this moment. Believe me, I will take all the silent cheers and prayers you have to offer up. But I will be honest, which is one promise I have made with being committed to this blog, today is just a hard day to envision and to embrace the new plan that God has for me. I am just tired... physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and financially. And that is ok. I have learned in some pretty hard life lessons that pretending to be someone and something I am not is more fatal to my mind, heart and spirit than admitting temporary defeat. I am a firm believer that out of your defeat blooms new vision, new hope, new energy, new bravery, and new ambition! Think of temporary defeat as a resting place... or a pause, if you will. It is a time to just be. And that is where I find myself as I write this today. I don't have to know the answers to all of my many questions, and that is okay. I don't have to decide anything today other than if I choose to get out of bed to face the day. God's plan for me will not change or falter if I stall out for a moment. His grace and mercy is still there in the same proportion. His love for me never changes. In fact, He knew before I did, that today I would just feel okay with being okay. Nothing more... Nothing less. There is a good chance, a very good chance in fact, that tomorrow I might just feel like turning the page. Or maybe it will be the day after. Or the day after that. And.that.is. ok!

#lifechange #newbeginnings #defeat #pause #startingoveragain