A New Normal

The consumer is a very powerful person.  As the main shopper for a family of four, I haven't always felt this way.  But recently, as a result of health issues in our little nucleus, I have become quite empowered.  No longer will the evil conglomerates and self seeking government regulators control the fate of my family. 

Over the last few weeks, I have had to come to terms with saying good-bye to the normal side of myself.  The side that likes to believe that she is well thought of by her peer base.  Or at the very least, not talked about in exaggerated whispers along with looks of horror.  Now that all partings have been complete, I am free to be as eccentric as my genetics will allow.  Which, unfortunately, is quite high on the spectrum.

The strange girl in the goodwill hat and her facial haired boyfriend, the pseudo intellectual still single over 40 women, & the 'home school' family with a love for mismatched clothes and unkempt hair have all become my regular shopping companions at the farmer's markets and co-ops.  I don't mind really.  They after all have become my new normal and honestly I wasn't all that thrilled with the Cocoa Pebble & Mountain Dew crowd that I was hanging with before. 

At the risk of sounding trite, life is a journey.  Sometimes it is a straight path to the end, but most of the time it is full of twists and turns, much like a game of Chutes & Ladders.  In the end, we all die.  So, we shouldn't focus on the end so much and welcome the twists and turns that shape us.  And, if for some awful reason you are on the straight path, add some of your own twists.  Because after all it's the journey we are here for.

A Most Selfish Creature

I think if I had been left to my own devices, I could have been a most selfish creature.  My days drift in a pattern of serving others.  It begins often before I am even awake.  Somewhere between 1 and 3 a.m., when my 6 year old crawls into the bed and I slide over to make room.  Even my smile seems selfless at times.  I often bestow it wearily in my attempt to hide my worry for one of my children.  Daily, I practice giving of myself.  Despite being decades into this practice, I still, at times, find it unnatural.  Which leads me to my current mode of thought:  I could have been a most selfish creature.

I imagine I could spend hours lying in bed each morning, too exhausted from thinking of myself the previous day to get up.  I believe that I could spend an additional few hours powdering my nose and meticulously hiding my flaws.  I suppose I could prepare a meal with only me and my desires in mind and then leave the mess to clean up itself.  Indeed I have no doubt that I could talk endlessly about myself with such flourish that those around me have no choice but to be silenced.  I know that this could all be pulled off with amazingly little effort on my part.

Thankfully, I was not left to my own devices.  And, although at times I resent my responsibilities and find my mind in a state of unrest, I know that these same responsibilities and 'stressful' thoughts are what keep me from being the anti-heroine in my own novel.  They are the catalysts moving my story somewhere, in my humanness, I was never meant to go. A place of wholeness that can only be found in losing myself.  At the end of this exhausting day, I am grateful to my family for helping me become what I should never have been.

Beautiful Poetry

I long to write something beautiful and poetic.  To share the depths of my inner being.  Yet, I can never seem to find the right words.  I always have plenty to help find the humor or irritations of life, but never the deep.  I am afraid that the truth is I have closed off that part of me.  The raw vulnerable part that is full of too much.  Too much fear.  Too much pain.  Too much of the unsightly.  I can't even stand to look at it myself.  I have spent years practicing strength.  And, I am strong, too strong.  My strength comes with a hardness that is like an impermeable shell.  I'm not sure I could even shatter it if I wanted to.  And, I don't.  I shudder at weakness of any kind.  I hear my voice now saying, " Exposing weakness only makes you weaker."  Showing the unlovely parts, makes you unlovable." 

I long to write something beautiful and poetic....

State of Mind

We just had the first blizzard of the season.  I am using the term loosely, since it may have dropped 10 inches of snow.  But, it was enough to cause the local schools to shut down for a couple of days.  The word 'snow-day' is being thrown around a lot and it reminds me of an Erma Bombeck book I read years ago.  She cleverly talked about how moms would whittle snowshoes out of furniture so their kids could walk to school.  No mother can withstand being locked up day in and day out with their bored, whining, apathetic, argumentative children without giving up a piece of her sanity.

These last two snow days have been exceptionally calm around here, though.  The boredom, whining, etc. were all floating around, but since I have been homeschooling for the last 4 years, I can't imagine a day without these old friends. My sanity left with my morning coffee break that I would take each morning after dropping my oldest off at school and putting my youngest down for a Benadryl induced nap.  Quiet has become a state of mind.  I can create it anytime I like.  Just recently, while my youngest was shooting me with his Nerf gun, I decided to enjoy a serene moment with myself.  It was very relaxing.  The best part was when I came back, he was gone.  The only evidence of his former presence, being a plastic gun and a round of soft bullets.

Perhaps, I did give up my sanity years ago.  But, I can't say that I miss it.  And, on those rare moments when I might begin to wonder what it would be like to have it again, I just stop, stare at the wall, block out all forms of reality and enjoy a little quality time with my happy thoughts. 

Collection Crisis

I have never been much of a collector.  Growing up in a transient military household we were not encouraged to have 'things'.  Just the word 'clutter' sends chills up my spine.  However, I do admire a well placed Marthaesque collection displayed just so on the cover of a magazine.  So much so that I even began to desire my own collection.  Unfortunately for me, my Spartan upbringing and nature will not allow me to collect inanimate objects that require regular dusting.  However, my constantly functioning, yet occasionally misfiring brain, recently decided to bypass my sense and reasoning and has started a collection for me.

This collection doesn't require regular dusting, nor does it take up space in my home.  At least not permanently.  It is a collection of friends.  Ahhh, doesn't that sound sweet.  Not so much.  You see I am an introvert.  Well, an extroverted introvert.  Yes, there really is such a thing.  We are a rare group of people that like being around others and always seem to have fun, but find true rejuvenation and  rest in being alone.  Most people mistake us for outgoing extroverts and at times we even manage to confuse ourselves, but we truly enjoy being alone.  Visiting and socializing is always entertaining but unfortunately it is also draining. 

The solution for living a balanced life of an extroverted introvert appears simple enough and it is also my favorite word, balance.  Go out with or have a few selected friends over to visit and enjoy my sparkling personality followed by plenty of alone time with that same sparkling personality.  This so called balance has seemed to work well over the years, perhaps leaning a little more towards time alone, but still not so bad.  Unfortunately, my desire for a collection along with my misfiring brain has caused some problems recently.  Every where I go, I can't stop myself from befriending people. Just the other day I nearly invited the post office worker I was buying stamps from over for tea.  Things have gotten out of control.  It's as if I have become one of those women whose creepy dolls have taken over the house.  To the point that when you walk in the living room they are sitting and laying all over the room.  There isn't even a spot for a real person to sit on the couch.  Not to say that the friends I have collected are creepy, well not all of them, but I have let things get out of control. 

The Spartan in me just wants to go back to the necessities of life.  One or two dear friends whose relationships provide a chance to give and receive along with plenty of time to sit in my office and stare out the window at my strange neighbor shoveling snow off the pond in the middle of a snow storm.  I don't have an answer and I'm not saying collecting friends is wrong, but it is hard to be alone when one is always inviting the world over or out.  Perhaps, if I just start picking up shot glasses from truck stops and have my husband build me a curio cabinet to place them in, I will convince my brain that we are indeed collecting something and I will once again find the balance I crave.

Selective Noise

I consider myself outdated at least in the technical sense.  I have always balked at technology.  I might possibly be the only person under 40 whose cell phone doesn't have a texting keyboard.  This is by choice.  I obviously have a computer and clearly a blog, but this is only because one does have to function in the world or at least show signs of attempting.  For years, I fought email and praised the values of snail mail, but then one day it occurred to me that email could in fact be used to my advantage.  Being the extroverted introvert that I am, I found great pleasure and ease in being able to avoid the draining small talk that ensued whenever I had to call someone to ask a question or give information. 

So you can imagine my excitement this morning when I, out of mere curiosity, unhooked my son's charging ipod from my laptop, placed the headphones in my ears and heard the sounds of Annie Lennox and Five for Fighting instead of the cries and demands of my family.  I know ipods are 'outdated', what with iphones, Droids, and Siths.  But, this is something new for me.  Honestly, I never saw the point.  I crave silence not more noise.  However, this morning I learned that if you can't have silence then at least you should be able to choose you noise, and today I choose Jack Johnson.

Following the Rules

Minutes before I was about to make a new post, I came across another blog on why people unsubscribe.  It was painfully amusing.  For the most part, I follow the "How to Keep Subscribers" rules, but I was definitely struck by my lack of following one in particular.  It, being written by a man and all, was brief and stated that you should not have your topics all over the place.  He claimed this was just a window into an undisciplined life.  I must say that I felt a strong need to stop and ponder this.  You see, my blog is about my ramblings.  Just whatever 'crap' (please read this word with a British accent, it just sounds better that way) or, on rare occasions, wisdom I feel like sharing with the outside world.  To say I am undisciplined is almost comical.  I mean, I can't go and neatly place my 'boots' in the boot tray without straightening the corner of the entry rug that was off by a few millimeters.  So, now here I find myself in quite a quandary.  Do I become more focused and stick to a common topic like "The Health Benefits of Knitting" or do I just stay with my original game plan, which was to write about my life in the hopes of helping myself and a very select few become comfortable in who they are?  In order to be secure or know your own identity, you  must be comfortable with your thoughts.  You don't necessarily need to understand them, but you do need to befriend them and maybe share them on occasion.  So, maybe I will  just continue on and risk a possible pandemic of unsubscriptions on the grounds of principle.  There, all that brilliance stated in less than 500 words.  Just following the rules, well at least some of them.