On that day

I decided to even out the sadness of yesterday’s post by sharing what else happened on that day – yesterday, four years ago!

(But before I do that, just a quick note in response to an email received from someone : I neither completely lack intelligence, nor am I a full blown narcissist! Not able to properly articulate all that I say, perhaps! So let me repeat, hopefully more clearly : I have not ‘become’ Tess, in an effort to be a copy. The qualities have always existed within me – and I have countless Facebook memories with Tess, and others, to back this up. What I was trying to share was how odd I found it that since her passing, those qualities seem to have intensified within me! I suspect that this, in large part, has something to do with someone who has become a good friend as well, and has a very positive influence in my life, encouraging me to be a bit more open to ‘stuff’ in general and is teaching me without criticism or disdain.
I am still me – not a copy of anyone else! Moving on…)

On that day, I arrived at the funeral ‘strong’. I had done so much crying up to that point, that I honestly didn’t think there were any tears left. Boy, had I misinformed myself! If I hadn’t been sitting in the second row, reserved for family (to which I was invited), I would have got up and left, simply because I could not control the flow of tears! I didn’t even join in the tea afterwards, but pretty much ran from the church. All I knew was that I needed to get out of there because I could barely breathe! I drove home in a blur, to try and fix my make up and fetch my daughter.

(And here’s a bit of irony : One of the movies on my friend’s list of favourites was Four Weddings and a Funeral. Partly my fault. For some reason I watched it about one hundred times when I was pregnant with my son, and she was with me for half of them, ha ha! Her ultimate favourite movie though was Love Actually and so her revenge was to make me sit and watch it just as many times with her, ha ha ha!)

Exactly two hours after the funeral, my make up not fixed very well and my eyes looking rather disastrous, my daughter and I were seated in a different church, waiting for the bride to make her appearance.
Only the bride, groom, and their families knew what my morning had entailed. Other people gave me strange glances – I am sure they thought I was ‘crying over the preciously gorgeous bride’ already! Ha ha!

In all honesty, if it had been any other wedding, I would have stayed at home. BUT!

I have mentioned this particular young lady in my blog before. I became her neighbour when she was four years old, turning five. Her mom and I became friends – and I was a part of their family in no time! So many adventures to share, and stories to tell, ha ha!
But back to this young lady, K, on this day. I met, and was privy to, every boyfriend and every detail from her very first official boyfriend at age 13. All the excitement, all the drama. Every heartbreak! She found ‘the one’ at 24 years of age.

And when I stood, and turned to look at her entering the church on that day? Fresh tears fell. But they were ones of beauty and happiness – and a smidgeon of pride.
I am the type who immediately then looks at the Groom. I want to see his face when he sees his bride. I was not disappointed!

The very best part? Four years later, he still looks at her that way!!!! ❤ ❤ ❤

Here is my takeaway from that day : even now, when I remember it (and it’s one I remember often) it serves as a reminder to me of something I find myself saying often :

There are mountains and valleys in life. I can’t just have the one, because then the other wouldn’t exist.
But there are definitely both – even though in trying times it seems like there are just multitudes of valleys! That day proved it to me. Overwhelming sadness consumed me… but then so did overwhelming joy!

In a way, it is the ‘story of life’. And so I will keep turning the pages of that book, with a heart full of hope, knowing that ‘the mountains’ are in there ❤

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Painful lessons… funny not funny

Ah… I have missed this ❤ Explanation to follow 😉

Time has flown, yet again. One would think it would have dragged by, since I have spent most of it in bed, pretty much unable to do most things. Even the simple things hurt. I have a newfound appreciation for my usual ability to get on and off the toilet, for example. Yes, I said that. Too much information? When last did you appreciate being able to do that without experiencing pain? 😛

I injured my lower back, and for five days I was pretty much in bed. Moving hurt. Once I was standing, walking around a bit actually helped – but man, oh man! To get to that standing position? UGH!
I could not sit up. So here I have this beautiful laptop that I was so graciously blessed with and absolutely love, and I couldn’t use it. I had to lie here, and just stare at it.

Day six, things began to get a little easier, and less painful. I started becoming more ‘able’. What a relief that was! And with it came the realisation that the part of me that is sometimes stubborn needed to get out the car – forget about taking a backseat! Despite all my prior injuries and illnesses, this time I fully appreciated the concept of ‘sometimes you actually just need to continue to take it easy, and go slowly, to get back to full health’.
I’m still not there yet, but I’m definitely on the road – and Stubborn is still running next to the car because there is no way I am letting it get back in yet 😛

And in all this excruciating pain and very limited ability, have I complained at all? You betcha! Ha ha!

I’ve also had my moments of misery – feeling sorry for myself and even shedding a tear or two.

But let me assure you, an attitude of gratitude really goes a long way!
And perhaps sometimes things like this need to happen, not just to remind us of the need to slow down and our physical limitations, but also to jump start our hearts – to bring us back to the place of remembering the small mercies we have – the things we can usually do that we don’t fully appreciate, and how valuable inner peace and joy truly is.

The pandemic, and the extremely volatile situation in my country at the moment; our current crime wave and the latest statistics; all in ‘life as we know it’ that is happening around me every day – I was getting distracted, and I didn’t even know it. I was spending more time every day worrying – wondering ‘what is going to happen next’, ‘will we survive this’, ‘what am I going to do’.

I guess I needed this to shift my focus back to the things that matter – the joy INSIDE of me, despite what is happening outside.
I needed to be reminded of the goodness too.
Like being able to get on and off the toilet with ease 😛

Here’s hoping I won’t need another lesson in this anytime soon 😉

Have a great week, everyone!

Meg’s Monday Musings, I guess

Over the last few years, I have become increasingly aware of how we are all different. I don’t just mean in physical appearance, or in our hearts… I have also extended my thinking to cover things like how we respond to things, what works FOR US, our opinions and the way we approach the situations life gives us, etc.
Something else I have become increasingly aware of in my own heart is the need to not only respect these differences, but celebrate them because, quite frankly, the world needs all of us. We just have different things to contribute.

Sadly, in some cases, there will be times where celebration falls short, because that particular thing is disheartening, saddening, confusing. Perhaps that person has been shaped by a particular experience in a negative way, and that is the reason for them responding in a way that elicits hurt, anger and bitterness though.
There is a saying that goes something like this : I still care. I still want to see you eat. Just not at my table.

I understand that. A part of me can agree with that saying. And yet….

I will always want people to eat at my table. Eventually. If at all possible. And of course saying that elicits responses like, ”You’re a sucker for punishment”, ”you’re weak and a doormat”, ”you clearly lack boundaries and deserve to have your peace thrown in turmoil, because you aren’t protecting it”.

What is really funny to me is that I CAN see the small bits of truth in those things. Thanks to technology we have an overload of information to teach us all of the above, especially when it comes to boundaries and protecting our peace. We have advice pouring in via social media in the way of articles and memes and short videos to make us strong and prevent us from becoming ‘doormats’.

I remember reading once : The heart of the problem is a problem of the heart.

And so, as my heart is changing radically (in what I deem as all the best ways) a lot of the advice and sayings out there are becoming things that I just can’t fully agree with. A sucker for punishment, indeed! Because this DOES make me MORE vulnerable, and more open to experiencing hurt and heartache. BUT it has also brought me a strange sense of peace, which I simply can’t afford to fight against to satisfy the countless items of advice to ‘protect my peace’ when I have found it in a way that is not in alignment with all these things.

I am able to agree to disagree. I don’t need to always be right. I also don’t need to force my opinions and advice on people in a way that I get frustrated and angry when they don’t do what I have told them to. I am ACCEPTING of the concept that WE ARE ALL DIFFERENT! One of the hardest things I have done, and have to do every now and then, is forgive people who are not sorry, will not say they are sorry, and live in a space where they truly believe that they have done nothing wrong.

And I have, in all of this, realised something that I think is important – TO ME : I actually don’t need apologies, or changed behaviour to prove that you’re sorry. It isn’t why I am still here roaming this earth – it’s not my purpose, if you will.
Other people’s choices, behaviour and the condition of their hearts is not my responsibility. But I AM responsible for my choices, behaviour and the condition of my heart.

There are people in my life who have hurt me deeply. Someone very close to me, my very own blood, has made a lifetime of ‘trying to destroy me’, when she was supposed to love me and nurture me. People in positions of power have abused me. But all of that? Whatever choices they made and whatever they tried to do to me? Well… that is on them. Not me. I have learnt that forgiving them, even though they will never say they are sorry… TRULY forgiving them in MY heart, brings ME peace. And pretty much introduces a freedom within me that I have struggled to grasp for so many years.

Jumping back to eating at my table : any wounds, dissatisfaction, or pain that they be suffering now might possibly be self-inflicted. It is not for me to judge them for that. Or to even rejoice in the fact that they are now possibly ‘getting what they deserve’. NOT MY PLACE. NOT MY BUSINESS.
And if those people reach a point in their lives where they show up at my table, WITHOUT apology, needing a little bit of kindness, compassion, or food for their souls to help them face the day because a particular choice they made or circumstance they are facing has caused them a deep hurt, despite warnings I may have issued or advice I had given? Well, who am I to tell them : Oh, I care… but off you go. Go and find another table. Love isn’t served here.

The last few weeks have not only shown me all the things I DON’T want to be…. it has taught me the greatest lesson of all time. The ONE thing I ABSOLUTELY NEED to be. LOVE.

And because I lack perfection, this is harder than just learning the lesson. Along the way, I am finding myself in situations where this is being put to the test. In most cases, I am getting it right. There are still the odd ones though where I need to iron MYSELF out, and be more determined about living out love, no matter what it costs me.

Unfortunately, feeling and thinking all of the above means that there will be tables that I will be no longer invited to. There will not be an attitude of ‘agree to disagree’ and I will be viewed in an undesirable light, and criticised in many ways. And the feeling and knowledge of that? Well, it feels a bit like trying to swallow a pineapple whole.
But here’s the thing. It’s THEIR table. If I am not welcome there, then I need to respect that. I need to truly forgive so that I can find peace.
And if there ever comes a day where they approach MY table in an hour of need (even if only to just get them through that need and have them walk away again) I will set them a place, comfort them and show them kindness, and love them for as long as they let me.

NONE of these changed hearts attitudes have come without a price to me. NONE of the musings above have come easy. NONE of it is necessarily part of YOUR journey. But it is a part of mine. As are each and every one of you.

Here’s hoping you all have an incredibly special and wonderfully enlightening week ❤

Who Do You Need?

 

Photo credit : sayingimages.com

 

“Nobody’s perfect, but some of us are closer than others.”

The above statement about perfection was written on a wooden board sign hanging in my brothers room while I was growing up. Every time he caught me looking at it – which was usually about the same time he caught me in his bedroom (his room was no man’s land, and definitely not a place that I was allowed to be) he would say to me, “Sorry for you, but you’re not some. Now get out of my room.”

I never fully understood until my other brother, the oldest of the two, explained that he was telling me that I was nowhere near perfect. I can remember that for many years, this hurt me. Looking back now, I laugh about it – and regret the time I wasted in my growing up years allowing it to upset me.

Because here’s the thing : while I sound like I know what I am doing, the only reason I can be this way (and sort of know what I am doing) is because of the mistakes I have made – sometimes the same one a number of times. It used to be ”classic Meg syndrome”. Make a bad choice/mistake – say sorry. Get another chance. But everyone knew I would do it again a few more times.

I never struggled with learning at school, unless I was being lazy 😛 And although I don’t think I have a brilliant IQ, I do think that I am intelligent enough to be able to hold my own. A comment I often heard growing up, and in adult life too, was, “You’re a beautiful girl and you’re not stupid. So WHY? It just baffles my brain.”

Unfortunately, a lot of bad choices were circumstantial. And a lot of those frustrated people who made that comment about me were the greatest ‘influencers’ of the circumstances.

Photo credit : therandomvibez.com

They say that life is all about making mistakes – there was a time where I was succeeding beyond my wildest dreams! 😛 😉

Perhaps I was striving for genius status – since we learn from our mistakes? 😛

Here’s the thing though : while I have always been a responsible and caring person, with a kind and loving heart, I have not always been very wise – and I have had my moments of my own form of rebellion, and have done and said things that I cannot take back.

In the past few years I have aged greatly. Apparently I still look young – even though I don’t feel it. My son is very complimentary with regards to this, and was not surprised when a 27 year old asked me on a date. I was horrified – as was my daughter, because I am old 😛 And yet, when I say I am probably best suited for a man in his fifties, she tells me I am too young for that. Kid can’t make up her mind 😛 (My son agrees with me though – but always tells me I look younger than what I am. He’s not just flattering me, which makes me feel good. But not good enough to date a 27 year old 😛 )

But I have aged greatly – and not in years (or looks apparently). In the past few years, I have gained a lot of wisdom and insight, and I have grown a lot. 
Much more than many people my age. I’ve always had a bit of an old soul, so that has already sort of set me apart. An elderly lady I encountered a few days ago told me, “You are not like the youth of today. You have a lot of wisdom. You’ve obviously had a challenging past.”

Yes. I have had a challenging past. Yes, I have done things, and said things, that I am not proud of. I have had things happen to me that have caused pain beyond just their occurrence. The things kept coming, and the circumstances wouldn’t change, and I kept making bad decisions. And it made things challenging. And I was too busy playing the blame game and making excuses and wallowing in my misery to face those challenges. 

I’ll admit – when it comes to my physical appearance, I still don’t see anything worth writing home about. I still struggle with poor self image when it comes to my outer being – partly, a woman thing; partly for other reasons. I do work on that, and am trying to change it. I will say that I have grown to love my eyes – I do see, when I look in the mirror, that although they are a boring brown, they are far from boring. I know how expressive they are, and acknowledge that physically they are my best feature. People who see me speak – my friend in the US only on video calls – have always told me the above. I have only accepted in the past few years. And that’s as far as I have got with physical image.

I am too busy with matters of the heart – my main focus is on what is going on inside of me. Who I am. Because on my blog pages, and in emails to distant new friends who I may never meet, who I am inside is what shines through.

I have worked hard the past few years, at facing my mistakes and taking responsibility where I needed to. And learning. It’s been difficult, and I have suffered. The pain has been insurmountable at times – particularly when having to forgive and move on with people who will never say they are sorry.

Because of my mistakes, I am able to counsel and advise others in many areas.
Funny enough, a lot of the time, I learn something new while doing so.

But please don’t ever be under the impression that I have always been the way I am depicted here. While my core has always been good, there have been many moments of bad. When I write here, I write from personal experiences and my ‘wisdom and goodness’ come from having made some awful mistakes. This alone should terrify you a little 😛

And the thing is, I still make mistakes. Thank goodness. Or there would be nothing left for me to learn! Some of those mistakes come from choices I willingly make : being too trusting, and too honest; my willingness to accept, acknowledge and embrace the fact that everyone is different, and that everyone deserves kindness and consideration, and as many chances as it takes for them to heal and ‘get it right’.

Yes, I leave myself exposed and vulnerable. And get hurt. But I’d rather be making these types of choices and mistakes, than be selfish and bitter and wallowing and blaming, like I tended to be in my younger years.

One of the things that had the greatest influence on me (there have been many), and brought about HUGE changes was a picture I saw on Facebook a few years ago – I googled and found it :

 

‘Nuff said!

 

It’s Time

You know that expression, ”I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus”? Well, yesterday afternoon I nearly was that expression!

A bit of background : It’s been raining non stop, a steady drizzle interrupted by the odd downpour, for the past 40 hours. I am celebrating. And not just because I love the rain. 😛 Water restrictions came to town last Friday. September is our heavy rainfall month around here – we didn’t see more than a few drops. Our main dam is now sitting at less than 35% capacity. The last census in 2011 showed that there are 267 007 people living here – we have largely increased in numbers since then. This rain is nowhere near to filling the dam, but it sure is helping!

And the roads are very wet as a result.

So I leave the house at lunchtime to perform Mom’s Taxi duties with a smile on my face. The garden beds in front of my house are overflowing with water. The bucket next to it is almost full.

My celebration of happiness has been extended.

Now, as ridiculous as this may sound, one thing I don’t do is break the speed limit. That doesn’t mean I am a slow driver though – because I hit the speed limit in the given areas. 😉 But when it rains? I stay in the slow lane where possible and I drop my speed by 10 or 20 – depending how fast I’m allowed to go in that spot 😉  I suppose you could call me a careful driver, who isn’t a hazard on the road.

So there I am, pulling onto the highway, still in the euphoric state brought upon by this much needed and beautiful rain (and cooler weather – added bonus!) and I see that on the bridge up ahead, in the fast lane, there is a massive truck that has come to a complete standstill. This is a two lane highway, and I’m in the slow lane, so no problem.

Big problem, when there’s a massive bus coming up fast in the same lane as the truck! It was a good thing I glanced in the rearview mirror to see if I needed to warn anyone. I put my hazards on and slowed a little – but that didn’t help the bus. When you have that much steel at that sort of speed, and the roads are wet, braking hard isn’t going to do anyone any favours. So he did the next best thing, and swerved. While the front of his bus was in the clear and one could just say that he ‘cut me off a little’, I think he’d forgotten that there was a back side that would follow. I was reminded when I saw it coming to meet me at my drivers side window, and braked a little harder than I like to in wet weather.

Of course you know that my car skidded a bit – but the side of the bridge came nowhere near me. If I had been going faster, this ending would have been very different, and I’d be celebrating wetness in the river below that bridge. Although, as my son pointed out, if I was a speedster, I may have cleared that truck way before the bus arrived on the scene 😛

Admittedly, I was in a small amount of shock – but as I continued on my way, I actually laughed because I thought, “My gosh, I nearly was the back of a bus”! My friends often tell me that my reactions to close calls, where I laugh and think of something funny, is a very dark and unhealthy coping mechanism. Well, it is what it is, and I am what I am.

Right, the point of sharing this silly story with you is this :

I am not totally afraid to die. Fear of death is a very real thing, and is known as Thanatophobia. It affects people so deeply that even the thought of death gives them an anxiety attack. This is one thing I cannot completely identify with, but because I have other phobias I can understand and be sympathetic to their plight. I say ‘cannot completely’ because there was a time when I admit that I couldn’t think of anything worse than dying!

My journey in the past four years has been filled with epiphanies. The turning point for me was looking back on my life and accepting that my pain had purpose – I had lessons to learn and painful roads of the past to travel, because I needed to grow.

When I made the choice to accept the pains and hurts of the past, changed the way I viewed them, and turned them into opportunities of growth, I changed for the better.

Please don’t get me wrong. I do not mean that I will put myself in dangerous situations or do anything intentionally that will cost me my life. Neither am I advocating that you do, if you’re not afraid to die. It’s not about suddenly being irresponsible. And it’s certainly not about taking life for granted.

And I am not saying I want to die.

There’s just been a shift in me. I still will say, ”I don’t want to die”, but I will not allow that to be my focus or make me negative. Time’s a-wasting, and life is short, and you just never know. So while I’d like to have the mercy of being around for a very long time still to come, I’d also like to LIVE while doing so.

Living means different things to different people. And it means different things to me, depending on the context in which I am saying it. The context today means this:

I want to feel alive. In order to do that, I need to remain in alignment with my values. I must not waste my days. I need to change lives, one life at a time. My values mean that I have an insatiable need to show kindness, motivate and inspire, and be courageous even in the face of pain and grief – especially when dealing with areas that need tweaking in my personality…to never stop growing and learning! These are to just name a few. And these are some of the reasons that I get up every morning – they put purpose in my life… along with the kids and dogs who kind of NEED me to get up every morning 😛 😉

My friends, think about what it’s like to be alive. What drives you? What are your values at this moment in your life?

Because it’s TIME TO BE ALIVE!

Chase after the things that get your blood racing, follow your dreams, reach out if you have a need, spread kindness like a disease, feed your soul.

TAKE CARE OF YOU! 

Because YOUR LIFE MATTERS, YOU MATTER, and despite what you may think or feel, YOU make a positive difference in someone’s life and they’re very glad they have you!

The Terrible Tooth

What did the Judge say to the Dentist?
“Do you swear to tell the tooth, the whole tooth, and nothing but the tooth?”

That is one of daughter’s favourite jokes, and the last time she lay in her dentists chair for a check up, she amused him with it so, that he rewarded her with a genuine laugh – I haven’t heard him laugh before. But that’s probably because I have been the one in the chair – although I am always pleasant and friendly. I just don’t make small talk or jokes – being in that chair, for me, is no laughing matter.

As per an article I wrote recently, which you can read here, my life is sometimes a song – and the last 24 hours have been a mix between ‘Highway to Hell’, and ‘Pain’.

Toothache. Not much worse, for me. I have a high pain threshold, but when it comes to these little white things in my mouth, I revert to being a baby. (A dentist’s appointment does pretty much the same thing.)

The offending tooth started niggling yesterday morning, and by last night was full blown agony. I didn’t sleep much.

A trip to the doctor this morning (a place I rarely visit for myself) confirmed an abscess – and produced a script for two antibiotics and a pain killer. Problem not solved as yet – these things take time. Sigh.

My own fault, really. If I would just pay more regular visits to the dentist, I probably wouldn’t be in the agony I’m in now. This tooth has been a problem before – in fact, it flares up every six months or so. My last ‘dental visit torture’ was about three years ago.

Usually, the tooth can be placated with an anti-inflammatory, and rights itself after a couple of days. Not this time. I suppose this time I will be forced to face the Dentist Demon and get it seen to – once the abscess is cleared, of course.

I’m still not entirely sure why I am so afraid of a Dentist. It’s never personal – they’ve all been really nice men, from what I can remember. (I’ve only ever had two.) The one from my younger years was a kind, older man (unless I have blocked something out from childhood); but I am told that when he would see my name in his appointment book, he’d be the one taking the pain medication ahead of time. (Apparently, I kicked him once, at about age three. I have an excellent memory. This, I do not recall.)

(This is probably a badly written blog. I wish I could blame it on painkillers – but I still have half an hour before I am allowed the next lot. We’ll blame the pain – and the not so pearly-white monster that has decided that it will no longer have mercy on me.)

The strange thing is that on the last few forced trips, the ‘new’ dentist has not caused me one iota of pain – and he’s really easy on the eyes. So what is with this mental block against his services? Am I alone in my irrational fear? Is it really irrational? Or is there just something ‘Dark’ about a Dentist? Hmmmmm.