strength

To My Craft Wife, On Her Birthday

~ crossroadtrippers ~ Leave a comment

Today, as you are wished well for your birthday, take the sentiment to heart. Enjoy the little moments you observe so well, soak up the chance at another year. Try not to let your woes overwhelm you and remember that we all love you. Remember that despite the pain and the loss, the strife that seems set on taking you down, you’re still standing. And you are who you are largely because of these trials. Never doubt the impact you have on others and the inspiration you represent in the hearts of your children, family, and friends. Happy Birthday, Craft Wife!

Happy Birthday, fellow immature, mature person! Here's to another year of ridiculousness!
Happy Birthday, fellow immature, mature person! Here’s to another year of ridiculousness!

~L~

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More Than the Ground Beneath My Feet

~ crossroadtrippers ~ Leave a comment

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The color of the sky was a pale gray saturated with a cold mist of rain. The wind was getting colder and the moisture was starting to freeze. It looked and felt just like my mood. Deceptively bright. Bright enough to fill a room with light but incapable of being the only source of it.  A gray day with mounting fog that felt like an oppressive shroud. There was no escape from the way it made me feel. The dingy light slunk its way in and I allowed it to spew its way out of my mouth. I waited for the sun, an indication of the end to this dismal blockade but that would have to wait until morning. Then again, mornings have beaten me down.

I have grown tired of these days. Every morning my eyes burn, my body groans, and I can barely walk to the end of the hall. When did the middle of life feel like the beginning of the end? Where was my body and how did it get replaced with one hardly recognizable? I feel like I am drowning. I am in a sea of gray, pulled down by the weight of this disease. I am gasping for a fresh breath of life and only find that stale, foggy air. It has become more of the same…… endless days pleading to feel normal……wondering if I will ever feel like I can do all the things that glimmer still left in my heart desires. It is fading and the light is growing more opaque. Yet, I still breathe. I refuse to hand over my life to whatever may be hiding under the shroud. I don’t run. No, I cannot do that any longer. I fly. I close my eyes and free myself. My heart burns and the heat courses down my neck. My pulse and heart are at the same frantic rhythm. I must rise above the gray. Atop what encircles the atmosphere that is my life lives hope. To find it I must push against what is bearing down on me and lift my face to the sky. I must look up. I have to stop watching where my feet are placed and look to where they need to go.

The internal struggle is real. I feel the tug of greed, envy, and idleness slide in beside self-pity. I fight the urge to fold my tired body inward and collapse to the spot on the ground where my eyes have wandered. I don’t have to fight there, I can just rest. I don’t want to get up. Pity says, “Stay.” Hope demands I get up. Faith lifts my head and moves me forward. My faith is one rooted in self-sacrificing love. My feet have not been placed on this Earth to serve my own needs but to give whatever may be left of my tattered body to serve those who need me. But it is hard and I am tired. I am worn down by too many variables out of my control. I keep trying to move forward, hoping, and fixing my eyes upward. I remind myself to pull my eyes away from the haze and to the place where the sun never sets. There is beauty beyond what I can see and more that I will never understand. Here is where my toil has meaning and my unrest has purpose. Faith is trusting in something not fully understood. It asks our feet to move forward even when beaten down with the disparities of life. It gives hope and promises more. Faith is the source of the everlasting light.

I never wanted the obstacles placed at my feet. I move cautiously but I still stumble when I fail to look up to see where I am going. True faith is walking along a path despite the barriers that undeniably make the journey more difficult.  Each day I must choose. I can choose to allow the bitter sting of unfairness to swallow me up in a lightless expanse that troubles my soul and steals my hope or I can choose to walk by faith. I can look heavenward and hasten forward in confidence. I can be assured my path is clear and travels are never taken alone. I can live a life exemplified by faith and grounded in love.

*d*

Task Away!!!!!!!!

~ crossroadtrippers ~ Leave a comment

Newton’s second law of motion as defined by my handy Google search states that the acceleration of an object is dependent on two variables: the net force acting upon the object and the mass of the object. I love facts and I love Google.

Today a great deal of information is right at our fingertips. For me, it is right on my smartphone. The only Internet access we have is through our cell phone carrier. Because my phone and internet is so handy, I am shamelessly addicted to reading articles, Google-ing questions (and of course useless movie info), checking social media statuses, and fantasizing about my house looking like photos on various home improvement sights. Unfortunately, it is hard to draw the line where fact ends and fantasy begins.  Is the internet “information” I am filling my head with really useful? What am I doing mentally to promote a healthy movement forward? What does this have to do with me writing a blog?

Well, I often wonder why I am so excited about writing and less than enthusiastic about reading a book. I know to grow as a writer I must expose myself to various writing techniques, points of view, and genres but instead, I find myself filling up on all the tidbits the Internet has to offer.  I often remind myself that I should finish any one of the many books I have been working on for months, so I pick one up and once again become distracted. What is wrong with me? Why can’t my mind sit still? I have asked myself these questions quite a bit in the last three months. I know I have been distracted by my own health problems. I have taken a break to allow myself time to accept and rebuild my life with the knowledge of my own illnesses. It was also nearly impossible for me to keep a straight thought after being injected with steroids for my RA several times in the last few months (making me feel less like the Hulk and more like the Joker), the last round ending an ambulance ride for an allergic reaction. I also admit that I like instant gratification. I don’t want to wait for a story to end, I want to know what happens NOW! What if I have another severe allergic reaction and die before I know how the story ends? I know that is why I don’t get hooked on mini-series or television programs, I hate cliff-hangers! It doesn’t mean that I have never finished a book or indulged in a favorite program, it just means that I have acquired a taste for the get-it-now lifestyle this world is becoming accustomed to experiencing. Lastly, I have made it my life’s purpose to attempt to perfect the art of multitasking. I once heard (or probably read some short article) about how to multitask efficiently. It probably declared, “Find something to do when you are between doing another something! Don’t sit idle when there is something else to do!!” This is why I struggle finishing any of the ten tasks I start because I go from one to the other without finishing what I started in the first place! I know how my brain works. If I think of something, I probably should take care of whatever it is, or I will forget. So I start one thing, remember another, then another, and keep building until my brain melts. ~Sigh~ I have gotten better at my multitasking lifestyle; my house is very clean for a large family but my purse isn’t. My laundry is washed and folded as it comes out of the dryer but often doesn’t make its way upstairs before the next laundry day comes around. I have a list of planned meals on my fridge but often eat out because I am too tired to prepare a meal after a long day and swollen joints. In short, I am my own roadblock. How can I possibly move forward when I am sabotaging myself by just being myself? According to Newton’s law, I’m screwed! Anytime I get determination behind my actions, I can’t get moving! I don’t have the strength (literally or figuratively)!
Forward motion takes strength. I have to have muscle behind my words and actions.

By many accounts, I am a strong person but the variables beyond my control have taken the muscle out of my plans. My body got weak and so I got weak. I stopped moving. Who knows how long it will take to adjust to my life without my usual might but at least I understand my weaknesses and this post is one step forward. Isn’t that what’s important? Keep moving forward, even when it’s hard. For me, it’s picking up a book and finishing it, even if it takes all year, organizing my purse or cooking a meal. It’s also taking what I love and using it to my advantage, like searching for Newton’s Laws of Physics and using that information in my next post. I many not have the muscle I used to but I do have creativity!

~d~

Of Fire and Clay

~ crossroadtrippers ~ Leave a comment

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Pottery has been around for centuries and the techniques have been used by a variety of people from poor farmers to Egyptian Pharaohs. Because it abundant and readily available, clay was cheap. The need for pottery was as vast as the type of people who used it. Farmers could use simple pottery to hold grain while Pharaohs used elaborate pottery to hold sacred items for burial. In almost every culture, pottery was an easy way to create a piece of art. The process of creating a piece of pottery leaves the unformed glob of clay unrecognizable by the end of the refining process. To get the unshaped clay to a useful or artistic piece, it is molded by the potter’s hands, shaped into the desired form, and placed into the kiln to harden. Firing the clay is an important step so it can be strong enough to fulfill its desired purpose. Everything from the season’s yield to the treasures of an ancient culture would be held in pottery and the pieces had to be strong enough to withstand fracture and prevent it from losing its contents. The more artistic pieces were especially desired to withstand the tests of time and were often heated at higher temperatures. Not all types of clay can withstand the higher temperature so only special types of clay were used. This special clay creates the beautiful, extremely durable porcelain. It is unimaginable to think that clay consists of no more than a few natural elements.  According to dictionary.com, clay is partially defined as the following:

1. a natural earthly material that is plastic when wet, consisting essentially of hydrated silicates of aluminum: used for making bricks, pottery, etc.

2. earth, mud.

4. the human body, especially distinguished from the spirit or soul; the flesh

The body being defined as clay? In the simplest definition, the human body is made up of a handful of elements, mostly consisting of water. Humans and clay are essentially made of the same basic elements. Unlike the human body, water is added to clay to form what is desired by the potter’s hands. Without the work of the potter, the clay would remain with the earth. The body, being defined as that of clay, could also be seen in this simple context, from the earth, to the earth. Let there be no mistake, the human body is more complex than a jar of clay, but like clay, it can be shaped to hold the greatest treasures and has the potential to become a beautiful piece of art.

It isn’t uncommon to see people turning their bodies into their own versions of art. Tattoos are less the taboo that they once were. Adorning the body with pieces of art through tattooing takes time and can be painful. To the person desiring the tattoo, the expression of the work is usually well worth the pain of getting it. It has also been widely acceptable in America to have piercings. The brief moment of pain and subsequent care after the piercing is worth the look achieved. In both examples, the outcome of the initial pain was known and a decision was made to endure pain and/or the care involved. Such a process would be less desirable if the outcome was unknown and the only information given was a promise of beauty. That would take a great deal of trust and not being assured of the end result could cause anxiety and less of a tolerance of pain. Ask anyone who paid for a tattoo that ended up looking more like the doodling of a two year-old or the small percentage that got an infection from a piecing. Instead of beauty, they received a problem. Decisions such as these would be simpler to make if there was foreknowledge of the result. Since there is no way to know how the experience will end, asking questions can help make the best decision. If clay could ask questions or talk, what would it say to the potter?  It certainty would want to know what the potter intended for it, but what else?

“You want to make me a water pot? No thanks, I’m too good for water.”

“There is no way you are throwing me into that fire!”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t paint me blue.”

Fortunately for history, clay made no such demands or statements. Human ancestors molded and fired the clay to serve a purpose and clay is still serving a purpose today. Finding a purpose for the human existence is vastly different than that of clay but it can help define a purpose. Both start out as a shape unrecognizable to the finished result. Humans at some point in the womb resemble a tadpole more than a human but with time, develop all the necessary components. Witnessing a heartbeat via ultrasound when the baby is no more than a few weeks gestation is no less than astonishing. A heart that will beat thousands upon thousands of times in a lifetime begins so miniscule inside a mother’s womb.  In the womb is where the molding process begins. First with the physical form and then as the child grows, the internal. Parents nurture and protect children and try to shape them into responsible and respectable adults. Parents nurture the aspects of a child’s life to help him or her understand the world and prepare for the fire that will eventually come. And this shaping by fire never ends. Into adulthood the experiences shape existence, while still relying on the early work of the parents. All with the hope the now adult can navigate the world alone. Unlike the clay, humans can ask questions on what they will become.

“Why am I here?”

“Why has this tragedy happened to me?

“Am I strong enough to endure?”

Also unlike the clay, life is shaped over a long period of time and the fire doesn’t come all at once. Sometimes the fire is hot enough to harden only the outside and protect what is within and other times, the heat is so intense that it hardens on the inside and out. The true works of art are those formed with the most intense heat, whose flames are not meant for every piece of clay. Those special pieces are chosen carefully and will have lasting strength and beauty. Because the end result of these rare pieces is beauty beyond compare, it takes time and trust in the process. These rare works of art can hold the most valuable possessions and stand the test of time. No, money cannot buy an average piece the result meant for the rare and it’s not worth the value gained by experience. A plain pot can be painted, decorated and made to resemble what intense fire has fused but it cannot have equal strength.

Are you the rare pot? Have you been asked to carry the heavy burdens? Because the heat is so intense, the process for the rare pot is painful and there is no knowledge of why and how the fire will result in beauty. Often times questions have to remain unanswered and trust wears thin but like the rare pot, the experience in the hottest fire yields invaluable experience. Each time the rare pot is exposed to the next round of heat, the harder it gets and the value of the treasures entrusted grows. What gem has been entrusted to you? Maybe it is the most delicate that must be placed in the strongest of places. If you are asked to endure the intense flames, your beauty will only shine more brightly every time you endure. Unlike the common, this beauty isn’t by choice and can only be seen at the surface but has been shaped and formed changing the very elements of your life. Don’t get discouraged you rare and beautiful piece, welcome the fire, for each flame brings you closer to unmatched beauty.

*d*

Image found via search engine and credited to http://www.pinterest.com

Year End Reflections

~ crossroadtrippers ~ Leave a comment

I married him in the late of summer. He didn’t want to see his bride in sleeveless so I wore a long sleeved white dress in the hot of day. My hair was down, sweltering on my neck. It couldn’t be put up, it wouldn’t have been suitable for him. All the details of that day were as he desired. The floral arrangements, the bridal band, and bridesmaids’ dresses were all in his favorite color. My special color was too feminine for his special day.  Everything was suited for a day as he dreamed and we set off for a honeymoon as he always imagined.

This was the first day of the rest of his life. It was the  first day ending my independent life. There was no longer a “me” but an us where he decided what was best for the two of us. I was there that day. I stood before the closed sanctuary doors sick with fear. I recalled the day he proposed. I wanted to run then and I wanted to run at that moment. I thought I was in too deep but I was expected to consider his feelings first in all things.

I was expected to relinquish myself and become his wife. In that moment, on that day, I inherited the responsibilities of a wife. I was solely responsible for cleaning, laundry, and meal preparation while remaining physically pleasing and readily available to him. There was no fair turn in the marriage as my attire was rebuked down to my undergarments while he slowly allowed himself a great deal of comfort with his hygiene and appearance. The small requests continued until larger uncomfortable desires were expected to be met with silent submission. After several years I no longer thought about what I wanted, I just did as he asked. My hair was to a length he preferred, my eyebrows were favored at an appropriate width, and money was never at my disposal. He refused to part with the mutual earnings to allow spending that would not  be a benefit to him. I worked full time but found myself in tears when making the agonizing choice to purchase much needed items, even if it were for my career. I was also not allowed the security of a cell phone after accepting a job forty miles from home. When my salary met his own, my position was downplayed as subjacent to his own.

I was not perfect but I don’t believe he thought what he was doing was wrong. We both had flaws. I was immature and I had a temper. When my requests to talk about marital issues were met with complete silence, I would blow up in frustration. For him, the only problems with our marriage were the issues I refused to drop. The bad fights started with requests to put down the toilet seat, brushing teeth before bed, or my desire to include my family and friends in my life. For me, marriage became about isolation, unresolved issues and silence. He thought his marriage was perfect. He was shocked when I finally left.

The weeks before I left became littered with fights and broken furniture. One afternoon we had the last fight of our marriage. I left for my parent’s home and he never came for me. He spent his time calling me and asking me to come home or making accusatory calls to me while I was at work. He wanted me back but was angry that I was not doing as he asked. He also had too much pride to follow his wife to the ends of the Earth, or a mere few miles up the road.

Some say divorce is worse than death. I can agree with this on some level because running into an ex can almost be like seeing a ghost. I haven’t seen mine since our disillusion was final. I was thankful we had no children thus making the separation of our lives a clean cut.

You may wonder why this would be the subject of my next post in light of the holiday season. New Year’s Eve fifteen years ago, I was laying on the bathroom floor my ex and I shared wondering if I wanted my life to continue. I heard the laughter from the party going on in the basement beneath and felt it was not for me. Against my natural desire to live grew this terrifying thought grown out of depression. Marriage was not like most things in my young life, it would continue until death. I realized I had no second chance and I should have felt more desire for my husband and my marriage. I had ignored my heart and did what I thought was “right.”

I stayed for a few more New Year’s Eve parties until I matured and made the difficult decision to make our separation permanent. The day I left, I had no idea how I would come to that choice but when he never came for me, it was easier to make. I had to be worth the fight.

………….

Years later, I married him on a cold spring day in the dress of my dreams (it was sleeveless) and prepared confidently, knowing however I came down the aisle, he unconditionally loved me. My heart and my mind were no longer at conflict.

During the approach of the holiday season, many thoughts turn to resolutions or putting behind a bad year. Isn’t it silly to think the same problems won’t follow through to the next year or resolutions will be easier to keep because we can open another calendar? Making a resolution to run away from problems does not work any better than running from them the remainder of the year. What happened to accepting the year we were given and using the short-falls of that year for our betterment?

My New Year’s advice for you: look back and enjoy this year. Do not be in a rush to discard it. Fifteen years ago when I was laying on my bathroom floor, I lost hope. My life was certainly going to be more of the same disappointment but that disappointment led me to where I am. My husband was worth the previous years I was ready to forget. If I would have known the heartache I experienced would bring me to where I am, I would have met it with more joy. There can be joy in our sadness. Unfortunately we don’t realize all that is meant for us until it has come to pass. Don’t regret an entire year based on difficulty, remember the clay is stronger when burned by fire. The heat may sometimes be intense but it is preparation for many things yet to come. Be patient. True happiness is always worth the wait.

Happy New Year! Wishing you the confidence to make the hard decisions and waiting for the best return the new year has to offer.

*d*