Rise and Shine

January 1, 2020

Last year a friend talked about the idea of choosing a meaningful word that would serve as a mantra and an ideal to which one could aspire all year long.  I love that idea.  Last year I chose the word RISE to guide me.  Many of you know that last year didn't start off well.  I was in utter turmoil, trying to figure out all of the hows, whys, and what-ifs of a relationship in crisis.  My self-esteem, not exactly my strong suit to begin with, took a complete nose-dive while I grappled with that 'not enough' feeling that many of us struggle with.  Crisis in a relationship only highlights and amplifies those voices in our heads that so many of us try to stifle on a daily basis.

So, there I was, trying to figure out what my future was going to look like and how to let go of the promise of a life-long path we had envisioned together.  I spent a lot of time crying, and a lot more time feeling like if I acknowledged what was clearly going to end, I would be giving up.  Failing.  I was holding my breath on the far-off, remote possibility that the path would right itself, when in reality I knew it would not.  The future I had envisioned, the growing old together in laughter, love, and comfort of a soul I thought I knew so well, had dissipated.  It was a future I had trusted in, and that trust was gone.  I was clinging to a hazy myth, a story that had ended.

When I saw that one-word challenge, then, I decided I would choose a word I WANTED to be my mindset, even if I didn't feel it right then.  I wanted to rise above my current state; I wanted to rise above the very loud and insistent voices in my head that threatened--and often did in those early 2019 months--to drag me under and leave me gasping for breath.  I wanted to rise to a place where I could learn to see a different but still beautiful and positive road ahead of me.  I wanted to rise up to the challenge of putting one step in front of the other, one day at a time, knowing that if I could concentrate on moving forward, I'd be okay.  I wanted to be the Phoenix and RISE, brilliant and beautiful, regenerating a new life out of the ashes of the old.  And though it was a long process, and I didn't always feel like I was living up to my mantra, rise I did, closing out the year in a much stronger and healthier place.

I don't know if that word helped me, or just accompanied me on the road to reclaiming me, but I do know that sometimes when I was hiding in the dark spaces in my mind, I would hear a voice whisper "rise", quiet, but firm.  It's like I planted a little seed and it grew even when I forgot it was there.  Like a talisman, I'll take it on faith that it protected me and warmed me when I needed it.  So this year, I believe I'll take on another mantra to guide me into these next twelve months.  Last year I needed to rise, simply to regain my equilibrium--to not sink.  This year, however, I have decided my word is SHINE.  As I have risen to meet my new life already, the focus this year will be on making that new life one of joy and happiness.  Not just seeing a new road ahead, but embracing it fully, eager to see and experience all that lies ahead on the adventure.  Last year was about surviving; this year is about making that survival shine.

The Shape of Me

November 19, 2019

I was reminded the other day--not for the first time--that I don't look like I did 15 years ago, as if this were an indictment, something about which to be embarrassed.  Trust me, I know I don't look the same.  I own a mirror, and I can see that I'm 52, and not 37.  Now, 52 looks different on a lot of people, but like many of us, my body shape has changed over the years.  My weight has changed too.  It's not easy for someone who has always struggled with body image (like 98% of the women I know) to maintain a healthy relationship with myself.  Having someone remind me that it's a pretty good reason to negate the other fabulous things I bring to the table can sometimes put me right back into the tailspin of teen angst and insecurity.  Not everyone deals with weight gain as we age, but a great many of us do, and it's just not easy.

Now I certainly don't mean that I have let myself go; I still love to get up and make myself feel presentable for myself every single day.  I like to wear clothes that are flattering, buy cute and charming booties and heels in every imaginable style, and I like to wear a little make-up to bring out the sparkle in my eye and a touch of color in my lips.  I try to work out and watch what I eat.  But yes, as I was reminded, I do not look like I did 15 years ago.  Few do.  So I started thinking about the ways I look different today--a little personal assessment, if you will.

With the passing of the last 15 years, here are just a few of the ways I look different:

--I look like a woman who beams with pride at having raised three pretty incredible humans into adulthood.

--I look like a woman whose world view has expanded through travel to other countries and interactions with other cultures.

--I look like a woman who carries herself with the professional confidence borne of experience and longevity in a work environment in which she thrives.

--I look like a woman who bears worry lines on her forehead and in her heart for all the young lives she cares about in her classroom each year.

--I look like a woman who fought to keep her family afloat during times of financial difficulty when resources were scarce.

--I look like a woman who has smile lines on her face, marking the laughter she has shared with loved ones--friends, students, and family--both the natural-born family and the ones she's chosen as family.

--I look like a woman who has a twinkle in her eye--sometimes mischievous and playful and some times plain joyful--as she looks with love at those who have joined her on her journey of life.

--I look like a woman whose scars tell the story of her triumph over breast cancer.

--I look like a woman who stands tall, having achieved her goal of attaining her Master's degree later in life.

--I look like a woman whose plumper body is evidence of lots of shared meals with loved ones, talking and laughing and dancing together well into late night hours.

--I look like a woman whose heart has grown far more in size than her body ever could by living in love and optimism.

 Yes, I have changed in the past 15 years.  But if you choose to see me through the lens of one who can see only the outline of my shape and determine that's the most important definition of who I am and how I've changed, then my goodness, perhaps it's your lenses that need a little cleaning.  Have I changed? I have.  In ways both grand and microscopic.  My heart, however, and my spirit--those remain the same.  That includes the ability and desire to see the good in others, and the optimism that the best is always around the corner.  I'd rather be loved and supported by those who are able to see through lenses that illuminate that shape ahead of any other.  That is the true shape of me, and I'm damn proud of it.