January 9, 2015
I haven't written publicly in years.
The last time that I've posted to this blog was nearly 3 years ago.
I left off with me leaving my family, sitting in a rented bedroom of a friends apartment, wondering "where the hell do I go from here?" and nearly collapsing under the weight of guilt.
You can call it what you like, I certainly have.
"Walked out, abandoned, ran out on and left my husband and my youngest, 14 year old daughter.
Without knowing my whole story or my families whole story you can color in the outline however you wish. All you need to know is that I left for my survival and the survival of my daughter and of my family.
Three years later, I can finally see the buds of this dormant and heartbroken family tree start to bloom again responding slowly to the deep rooted river of love, compassion, truth and forgiveness.
Today I find myself living alone and contently in a cute European style apartment under a giant sentinel of a cypress tree not far from San Francisco in the small community of Moss Beach.
Enjoying the few decadent pleasures of my life such as heated tile floors, an occasional out door shower under the stars, french wine and a huge bed surrounded by books and candles I am the happiest I have ever been in a long time.
As I sit down to write, I realize that my writing "wheels" have rusted a bit. The urge to start rolling is there. I certainly have plenty of material to write about, the challenge is where do I start...
I have never, not for a moment looked at life in black or white nor do I believe that life comes in "several shades of grey", LIFE comes in a kaleidoscope of color and my life has been brilliantly colorful and it continues to be one hell of a ride.
As I read through this old blog..."Growing up Mom" and dabble with writing again I think the lesson that I want to share is that life, your life is a story. Take a moment to look at it that way...Look at your life like a story, Some parts are tragic, mysterious and dull. Some parts are hysterically funny and exciting, painful and joyous.
It is true what they say...You know, the words of Sages, our elders, our shrinks, Oprah...its about finding gratitude and being still, being present through it all.
For me writing is part of who I am. I don't have a point, I don't even care if you read my story.
3 years later I'm still holding on to the "Horns of the bull" laughing, crying and living. Tonight I'm just adding another piece to my story.
Will I be back tomorrow? I don't know.
I do know that I am here now, I feel like writing. Who knows, maybe I'll say something wise and witty. Perhaps, someday I will get into the seriousness and "truth" of my life, but tonight I'm feelin' the humorous side of my tale dancing on the tips of my fingers.
MENOPAUSE: What an Ugly word!
I think if menopause was called something else like "rebirth" women really would enjoy it more.
The word MENOPAUSE....what the fuck is that about? Menstruation pause.
Hallefuckinglujah!
Ladies, have we not been waiting for the bleeding to stop for 30 plus years!
Come on now, how many of us actually get excited when our periods start?
Ok, ok , yes on those few occasions, particularly after a drunken night when starting our period was much more welcoming then being pregnant, but other than that I will admit, at the first sign of my period whether it be cramps, sore nipples or the early morning welcome of "Auntie Flo" I have to say, I groan with annoyance and I most definitely start bitching if it interrupts a vacation, or my sex life.
I choose to consider menopause as a sort of rebirth. And like all births it is not all that comfortable or pretty.
Truth be told, I do have to admit, it does feel like my body, a beautifully, slight voluptuous, soft body with the curved hips and rounded middle of a mother is trying to become a man....The unwanted facial hair, the unexpected sweating after I say the same comment that I've heard, my father, brothers and ex-husband say time and again..."is it hot in here"? as the temperature of body soars to a nice, toasty 150 degrees requiring me of course to kick off my blankets and open my bedroom window to its maximum in the dead of winter or my personal favorite, stepping outside on my porch in my bra and panties hoping for a breeze. With all the commotion I wouldn't be surprised if I grew a penis.
Yet, I'm still looking forward to not having to wear mini pads or tampons....All though from what I hear, life without mini pads will be short lived as we slip into those depends...
I may reconsider this in about a year or two as I'm just entering premenopause...or "peri"menopause..(What is that? The party before my period stops?)
In all seriousness though, I'm hearing scary stories about painful sex due to a dry vagina or worse as if that isn't bad enough, the loss of interest in sex. I refuse to believe these old wives tales. Hoping to god, that these stories are up there with the scary myths of our teen years about furry palms and frozen faces after masturbation.
At 46, Sex has finally become interesting..while always fun, I no longer worry about my body image and now have the confidence to ask for what I want and to think in a couple years after the bleeding stops altogether, I can have the option to have sex 30 days a month, 365 days out of the year only to have it taken away from me... I think not!
I haven't written publicly in years.
The last time that I've posted to this blog was nearly 3 years ago.
I left off with me leaving my family, sitting in a rented bedroom of a friends apartment, wondering "where the hell do I go from here?" and nearly collapsing under the weight of guilt.
You can call it what you like, I certainly have.
"Walked out, abandoned, ran out on and left my husband and my youngest, 14 year old daughter.
Without knowing my whole story or my families whole story you can color in the outline however you wish. All you need to know is that I left for my survival and the survival of my daughter and of my family.
Three years later, I can finally see the buds of this dormant and heartbroken family tree start to bloom again responding slowly to the deep rooted river of love, compassion, truth and forgiveness.
Today I find myself living alone and contently in a cute European style apartment under a giant sentinel of a cypress tree not far from San Francisco in the small community of Moss Beach.
Enjoying the few decadent pleasures of my life such as heated tile floors, an occasional out door shower under the stars, french wine and a huge bed surrounded by books and candles I am the happiest I have ever been in a long time.
As I sit down to write, I realize that my writing "wheels" have rusted a bit. The urge to start rolling is there. I certainly have plenty of material to write about, the challenge is where do I start...
I have never, not for a moment looked at life in black or white nor do I believe that life comes in "several shades of grey", LIFE comes in a kaleidoscope of color and my life has been brilliantly colorful and it continues to be one hell of a ride.
As I read through this old blog..."Growing up Mom" and dabble with writing again I think the lesson that I want to share is that life, your life is a story. Take a moment to look at it that way...Look at your life like a story, Some parts are tragic, mysterious and dull. Some parts are hysterically funny and exciting, painful and joyous.
It is true what they say...You know, the words of Sages, our elders, our shrinks, Oprah...its about finding gratitude and being still, being present through it all.
For me writing is part of who I am. I don't have a point, I don't even care if you read my story.
3 years later I'm still holding on to the "Horns of the bull" laughing, crying and living. Tonight I'm just adding another piece to my story.
Will I be back tomorrow? I don't know.
I do know that I am here now, I feel like writing. Who knows, maybe I'll say something wise and witty. Perhaps, someday I will get into the seriousness and "truth" of my life, but tonight I'm feelin' the humorous side of my tale dancing on the tips of my fingers.
MENOPAUSE: What an Ugly word!
I think if menopause was called something else like "rebirth" women really would enjoy it more.
The word MENOPAUSE....what the fuck is that about? Menstruation pause.
Hallefuckinglujah!
Ladies, have we not been waiting for the bleeding to stop for 30 plus years!
Come on now, how many of us actually get excited when our periods start?
Ok, ok , yes on those few occasions, particularly after a drunken night when starting our period was much more welcoming then being pregnant, but other than that I will admit, at the first sign of my period whether it be cramps, sore nipples or the early morning welcome of "Auntie Flo" I have to say, I groan with annoyance and I most definitely start bitching if it interrupts a vacation, or my sex life.
I choose to consider menopause as a sort of rebirth. And like all births it is not all that comfortable or pretty.
Truth be told, I do have to admit, it does feel like my body, a beautifully, slight voluptuous, soft body with the curved hips and rounded middle of a mother is trying to become a man....The unwanted facial hair, the unexpected sweating after I say the same comment that I've heard, my father, brothers and ex-husband say time and again..."is it hot in here"? as the temperature of body soars to a nice, toasty 150 degrees requiring me of course to kick off my blankets and open my bedroom window to its maximum in the dead of winter or my personal favorite, stepping outside on my porch in my bra and panties hoping for a breeze. With all the commotion I wouldn't be surprised if I grew a penis.
Yet, I'm still looking forward to not having to wear mini pads or tampons....All though from what I hear, life without mini pads will be short lived as we slip into those depends...
I may reconsider this in about a year or two as I'm just entering premenopause...or "peri"menopause..(What is that? The party before my period stops?)
In all seriousness though, I'm hearing scary stories about painful sex due to a dry vagina or worse as if that isn't bad enough, the loss of interest in sex. I refuse to believe these old wives tales. Hoping to god, that these stories are up there with the scary myths of our teen years about furry palms and frozen faces after masturbation.
At 46, Sex has finally become interesting..while always fun, I no longer worry about my body image and now have the confidence to ask for what I want and to think in a couple years after the bleeding stops altogether, I can have the option to have sex 30 days a month, 365 days out of the year only to have it taken away from me... I think not!
