Outside The Box

Thomas Oppong calls it "limitless thinking" or "thinking without rules" (9 Ways To Harness Your Creativity ("Think Outside The Box" is Overrated). Whatever you want to call it, it challenges your long, established opinions. At least it did mine.

If you've followed my journey these past two years, you will know how my life has changed since the deaths of my parents...and then the loss of my job a few months later. As I write those words, it blows me away. The understatement of the century. I cannot wrap my brain around it some days. Some days it is so far from my mind. A blur is probably the best way I can describe it all. Literally.

Tomorrow, October 16th will have been TWO years since Momma died. Two years. It doesn't even make sense. And yet life has gone on around me, and I have been cloistered in my little bubble trying to figure out how to move forward. I know I HAVE to, so I do it all within the comfort and safety of my home. Safety. That's been my sole focus. If I don't go outside, then I'm safe, from pain, rejection, shame, abandonment, etc. But holy cow! How realistic is THAT?! Not at all. I had to get real with myself. Also, my bank account was a great source of reality as well. LOL

So....After several months of job searching and spending a chunk of change to have my resume and LinkedIn profile professionally rewritten, to no avail, I tried something completely different........For those of you who know me, you may be thinking, "What?! But you have an MBA! Why aren't you using your degree???" Keep reading.

I had been an Uber RIDER a handful of times over the past several months, but was apprehensive about becoming a driver. However, after a great deal of research on my part (I'm a researcher at heart!) I felt I had all of the information I needed to make the decision to become a driver. Within a few short hours on a Saturday afternoon, I was approved after submitting documentation about myself, my car and my insurance. I love driving and I love people, so WHY NOT! Plus, I choose my own hours. AND it provides me with the ability to continue writing my book. What could be better?!

This path definitely doesn't fit my original plans. My focus was entirely fixed on securing a position in local or federal government or politics, either here in Charlotte or back in Indiana. My "job history" was littered with positions I had taken simply because I needed a paycheck. After Momma and Dad died and I lost my job, I felt as if I had a new opportunity to choose exactly what I wanted to do....to no longer SETTLE for what I HAD to do, but finally do what I WANTED to do. This is just another route.

As I drive, I have found that I am able to share my story of the past two years, how God, my family & friends and my will to survive carried me through. I have had two divine connections through sharing my story which confirmed to me what a ministry this could be. I knew God had me in a rebuilding process, but He is rebuilding in his own design unknown to me. It is in no way what I envisioned in my small-boxed mind of what I thought I wanted.

Every day is a new adventure. I don't bother to try and look further than today. I have learned, through the most difficult season of my life, the power of living in the moment. Being grateful for the day that I have, showing love to my family and those with whom I come in contact. To use it in a way that blesses others...tomorrow is not guaranteed. Today is a gift.

Bless you!

Making A Connection

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You've seen those people. You may have been one, a time or two, or maybe even every time you travel. The runners. Those travelers running through the terminal trying to make their connection.

They could be off on a relaxing vacation. Or they could be on their way to an important business meeting in the hopes of landing a huge new client for their company. Nothing causes more anxiety or frustration than delays of any kind, manmade or natural, forcing us to take off in a dead sprint 0-60 in the middle of a crowded terminal to make our connection! I've been there a time or two, and not of my own making.

Once you're able to make that connection, you slump down into your seat. Maybe sweat is beading on your forehead or running down your face, you feel as if your heart is beating out of your chest and you think you'll never catch your breath. But one thing is certain, the peace that washes over you knowing you MADE IT. Everything is going to be alright. You can relax and sit back for the ride.

This morning, in that hour or so before I wake up, I had a dream like many other nights and mornings. Dreams come often to me. Some days they are mild and meaningful and I have a direct understanding of their meaning and application to my life. And other days, I literally dream Hollywood blockbuster movies; plot, activity, actors, the whole bit. Its mind-boggling!

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I digress. Back to 'connection.' So this morning I have a dream that I am traveling, with a group of people who I knew, some from high school and some from college. I had gotten separated from them in the airport and I was trying to make our connection but I had no idea where they were. So I tried to get through the airport as fast as I could. Apparently this was a huge trip (a big deal) because when I finally connected with one of the other girls on the trip, she told me that two of the guys on the trip with us (2 boys who bullied me in school) were talking about me and making fun of me because of what I was trying to do....when I heard that, I broke down, in great big sobs. Through my sobs I said, "Why are they doing this to me? This is the first big thing I've tried since my Mom & Dad died. Where's their humanity?" I could physically feel myself sobbing while I was dreaming. It was the weirdest sensation. Then I woke up.

Here's what I think it all means.
I was separated from the others: I am meant to go on this journey of connection alone.
The first big thing I've tried: Owning my story and writing it to encourage others in their journey
The guys from grade school making fun of me: Memories/Issues of my past taunting/distracting me

I have been studying about vulnerability and connection over the last several months. So this dream is very timely. You cannot have connection without being vulnerable. And being vulnerable can be very scary, but it can also be liberating. Brené Brown encourages us to "own our story, show up and be seen." Be our true, authentic selves. If we want a wholehearted life, we must throw off the idea of "who we THINK we're supposed to be and embrace who we really are." I don't know about you, but I have been struggling with that all of my life. And I've finally said no more! I want connection and I can only have that if I am vulnerable, own my story and be who I really am. My goal: Wholeheartedness. 

We were created for connection! "Our imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we're all in this together. Imperfectly, but together." -Brené Brown 💚

In Process: Grief - Am I Allowed?

So I'm driving to the pet store yesterday to restock the pantry for my fur babies....I inherited my parent's two cats after Momma died. Dad wasn't extremely close to them, and I just couldn't imagine leaving them when I traveled back to Charlotte at the end of October in 2015. So I bought a huge pet carrier and plunked them both inside and we made the 12 hour drive back to Charlotte. Needless to say, it was not a joy ride for them, nevertheless we made it to North Carolina and have been living happily ever after. 

So, back to my story. As I was driving to the pet store, I began thinking about this 'grieving process' in which I've been traveling through these past 20 months. And a question popped into my head: Aren't I ALLOWED to grieve? I lost BOTH of my parents (within 2 ½ months of each other), my job (5 months after my Dad died,) and having to sell my childhood home (after 41 years.) I actually felt ANGRY, for three reasons: 

1. No one has outright said I should not be grieving, or that I should be over it by now and 'back to my old self.' A few people have offered their opinion, but mostly it is a pressure coming from within me, believing people are sitting in silent judgment of my grief.
2. That I am (ME) putting pressure on myself, thinking others are in silent judgment of my grief, and that I should rush the process.
3. Why on earth am I questioning whether or not I DESERVE to grieve these losses? Or that I'm making more of it than what it is? 

BOTH MY PARENTS DIED IN LESS THAN 3 MONTHS!!! 

My brother and I have handled the deaths of our parents in VERY different ways. He is MUCH less emotional than I am, therefore he has seemingly been able to jump back into life rather quickly. He also has four children, so his life is extremely active.

Whereas I was/am unemployed, handled all of the house clean-out and arrangements with the auctioneer and trash removal, so my emotions were (and still are) wrapped up into every aspect of my parent's lives and deaths. Plus, I have always been sensitive.  

This is myself and childhood/family friend, Todd. Anytime he'd put his arm around me for a picture, I would start crying. Our parents would laugh their heads off. Not me. It was a running joke between our families for YEARS!

The sensitivity worsened when the bullying started in elementary school. It was accentuated when I was 9 years old and had to have my tonsils removed, having to stay overnight in the hospital the night before. I cried all night long. I felt abandoned. I was so afraid. It continued when I was 11 and severe thunderstorms came roaring through our small Indiana town. The tornado sirens blaring, my Dad did nothing to calm my fears. He nonchalantly walked around the house while I was grabbing my pillow and my Bible and teddy bear for comfort if we had to make a run for the crawl space. I was a literal wreck, and that incident (FEAR) stayed with me through my adult years. As did the effects of the bullying. And the abandonment. I would say that I am experiencing the sense of abandonment with the deaths of my parents. So often I wonder what happened to this happy girl.....I know she's still in there somewhere, but right now I cannot find her. 

I was never a 'SuperSoul Sunday' fan but I happened to be channel surfing one Sunday afternoon when Glennon Doyle was on with Oprah. She was talking about pain, and masking her truth because she believed no one in the world REALLY wanted to hear it. It clicked with me, so I stayed with her....

WOW.  Ding-Ding-Ding! It was as if she was speaking only to me. Yes, the world around me is messy, but so is MY world. What am I going to do about it? I am going to keep working at whatever is going on in my heart and mind. I am going to talk to someone and deal with these deep-seeded issues. WHY did I ask myself "Aren't I ALLOWED to grieve the losses in my life?" What has made me feel unworthy of that grace and mercy? Because THAT'S what it is. I've got some things to learn....

While I'm learning, I am focused on remaining in a place of vulnerability....however challenging that might be. It is going to take time. I cannot rush the process, nor can I allow fear or insecurity lead me to believe that others are pressuring me to move the process along. Its not about them. Its about wholeness. Its about healing. Its about finding life again. MY life. And my GOAL is wholehearted living. 

"Wholehearted living is about engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. It means cultivating the courage, compassion, and connection to wake up in the morning and think, No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough. Its going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn't change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging." - Dr. Brené Brown, Daring Greatly (2012)

2017 HAS to be different....BEYOND 2017, a changed life. A heart that is in the process of being healed. And a mind and spirit focused on fulfilling my purpose. (That's a whole other blog post!)

Bless you 💜
Onward.

In Process: Grief - Share or Stay Silent?

I don't know about you, but I have debates in my head, (lately it seems on a daily basis) regarding what I should share, or IF I should share what is going on in my heart and mind. I don't want to come across sounding pitiful, or crazy, or pathetic, or attention-seeking, or hopeless....although, there are some days when I cannot see past the next hour or next day; numb to the world around me, I stare at a wall across the room or zone out watching cars pass by on the street below my balcony.

I'm not always in these places of....I don't even know what to call what it is that I experience....is it a wave of grief? I guess so. I think that's what it is. I hadn't experienced a wave in several months until two weeks ago, (I'm still in the midst) but when one washes over me, I am literally taken down and taken out. I am knocked off my feet and overwhelmed by the wave, so much so that I am rendered incapacitated. Its in those moments that I send out a "mayday," via social media or text to my friends and loved ones. And I remember Dr. Brené Brown's words....

 This is not easy for me. I have always been the type of person to keep things bottled up. I try to figure things out or fix them on my own. Rarely ask for help. My Dad used to tell me, "If you want something done right, do it yourself." I can very much relate to Brené in Daring Greatly when she talks about the various stages of her life that brought her to her 'spiritual awakening.' She shares in Daring Greatly (2012), "All of my stages were different suits of armor that kept me from becoming too engaged and too vulnerable. Each strategy was built on the same premise: Keep everyone at a safe distance and always have an exit strategy." THIS WAS ALL ME.

BUT......BUT.....

So, no matter how painful it might be, I must show up and be seen, bedhead, ugly cries and all.....and so can you.

Bless you 💜

In the Cave: My Life This Past Year

My Momma used to call my times of being quiet and withdrawn, 'cave mode.'

There was no dark, damp place I would venture off to (not even in my mind, as some people might do,) but simply a retreat from the normal interactions of daily life. The going out to the grocery store or taking walks on the greenway; or even talking on the phone with her, which we did on a daily and/or weekly basis. Just silence. And that bothered her, but she said she understood and loved me through it. That's what Moms do.

I've been in 'cave mode' since November 2015. Let me explain.

Momma and I have always been close, even during my 'rebellious' times...which were short-lived because by the time they rolled around I was an adult, but still had some steam to blow off. Plus, I'd been raised well enough that I knew better. So from age 21 to 22, I had a 'funky attitude' and I told my parents to 'deal with it' when I wanted my own way. I said WHAAAT?! Back in the day I would have been whooped. But as a young woman in my early twenties, I was being disrespectful, and I knew it. It bruised Momma's heart, but I apologized after I'd learned my lesson, and we healed together and got on with life when I realized what was really important. 

Momma had a health crisis in 2005 and was sick for 10 years. Loads of issues, but mainly her lungs. She was on oxygen 24/7. Thirty-three years of smoking inflicted tremendous damage on one of her body's most vital assets. Hospital visits too many to count added SkyMiles to my Delta account, but I wouldn't have been anywhere else. At the end of September last year, her pulmonologist gave us the news. There was nothing more they could do for her. Her lungs were too weak, and he was sending her home on hospice. So I immediately booked a one-way flight & hopped on a plane. No idea how much time she had, but I wasn't going to miss any of it. Of course, its my Momma. 

I've been rolling all of these thoughts around in my head for the past 12 months. Allowing myself to marinate on them, giving my heart permission to grieve wide open, feeling the hot tears roll down my face, my body convulse with sob after sob. Hospice. Just THAT thought, all by itself.

And this was just the beginning....there's so much more to the story. 

I arrived the same day I booked my flight. Momma was still in the hospital. It was Friday, October 2, 2015. Dad and I had talked via phone during the day and he PROMISED me that he'd wait to tell Momma her prognosis until my brother and I had arrived to the hospital. When I arrived, I learned he had broken that promise and told her on his own. The anger burned in me (Dad and I had other issues as well, so this only added to the building inferno.) My only focus was Momma. 

I stayed at the hospital with Momma both nights before she was released on Sunday afternoon to go home. She was somber, but tempered with hope because she was receiving info from various people who said other patients had been released from Hospice and lived long, happy lives. So we remained as positive and faithFILLED as we could under the circumstances. Momma was just glad to be home. 

We had no idea that just 13 days later she would enter into the arms of Jesus. 

I was grateful for those 13 days. The first 9 were extremely difficult (beyond anything I'd ever seen or experienced) but Momma was slowly improving, getting stronger. . 

She was up and around and visiting with everyone. 

My brother was home, so we enjoyed family dinners, just the 4 of us, which was the first time since possibly high school.

I soaked up Momma-Daughter talks on the couch. With no knowledge of time, I poured out my love to her and my thankfulness for always having her in my corner (even when she didn't always agree with my decisions,) and for growing up with a Momma who exuded love and kindness (and expected it equally from me.) I apologized to her, again, for the many times I was a brat. I asked forgiveness for hurting her heart and fracturing our relationship. Even as she drifted into the cloistered silence of her own mind, I sat stroking her hand, her arm, her cheek ministering love and comfort to her just as she did so many times when I was a child. It was all such a surreal time. It almost felt as if I was having an out of body experience.

Having been her primary caregiver, my senses were on high alert those final days. I would have moments of emotion, however I knew I had to keep it together for Momma. There were responsibilities needing my full attention. Even through planning her services, I pushed my emotions down...The focus was Momma, not me. I told myself that my time to grieve in the Cave would come later. 

Random thought....

Where do you do your best thinking? Mine is in the shower. I desperately try to record in my mind those nuggets of wisdom, action plans and searches of the soul but I'm not always successful. Today however, was different.

I asked myself....Why do you go into 'cave mode?' 

One would have thought I had asked myself that question or had an understanding long ago, but I never gave it much credence. It was simply part of who I was. I realized today that I go into 'cave mode' when I'm overwhelmed, mentally, emotionally, physically, probably even spiritually. When I'm feeling vulnerable, I descend into the Cave. When I'm sad or lonely, into the Cave I go. When I've had a great deal of activity or responsibility on my plate, I retreat into the Cave. Its a place of safety, peace and quiet. There's no need to justify or explain within the Cave. No questions. No judgement. I can be authentically me in the Cave. . 

I am silent in the Cave, for the most part. I make little to no effort to reach out to anyone, even family. THAT unnerved Momma. Often. Having said that, I savored calls, texts or emails from friends or family members reaching out to check on me. I was desperate for space yet my soul cried out for connection. It was the strangest dichotomy. 

Growing up, the Cave was not my permanent residence, although it was a vacation home. My current stint is the longest I've ever occupied the Cave. It began in November 2015 when I returned to Charlotte after Momma passed. I am uncertain as to when I'll finally emerge.

Just as I was beginning to process Momma being gone, and dealing with the strain of a relationship with my Dad, I received a call early on a Saturday morning on January 9, 2016. Dad was found outside his RV in the park where he was staying in Florida. He'd had a massive heart attack. He was gone. To say that I was stunned was an understatement. 

I spent the next few days talking with Sheriff's deputies, County Coroners and the funeral home. Once again, I took the lead on arrangements and administrating details....because that's just what I do. Defense mechanism? Maybe. It helped keep me occupied so I didn't go crazy. And that was a plus. 

I've officially now hit FULL TILT but I cannot hide away in the Cave because my family needs me, at least at the moment. Thankfully our funeral home (they've become quite familiar with us, unfortunately) took care of everything and eased my mind, so we did not have to worry about anything until the memorial in April. 

I took the lead on my Dad's estate although my brother and Uncle are also executors, which is a tremendous help. Gratefully, I can accomplish many tasks from inside the Cave. 

In June I was fortunate to take a much needed vacation (first adult vacay EVER! Yes. Seriously.) to rest and find some healing for my spirit...in a beautiful paradise resort in Antigua. 

Upon my return to the States, I was greeted with a call from 2 members of the board of directors where I was employed stating that I was being let go due to 'budget cuts.' 

WELCOME HOME!!

Well then. Hello Cave. The safety of the world in which I live is in question right now. I've lost both my parents. My job. My childhood home is about to be sold. So I'm going to just cloister myself for awhile. 

My life's foundation has been essentially ripped out from under me. Tomorrow is one year since Momma has been gone from my world. And yet, it still feels like it was yesterday. I can sit in a silent room, staring out the window. I zone out on television all day. Or simply stay in bed. Energy or motivation was no where to be found in me.

This book arrived in my mail, anonymously. It has been such a resource for me. A comfort, really. It has helped me understand everything that I've been thinking and feeling these past months. I read a bit and then need to put the book down as it can be heavy to process. Emotional. I have cried through it. Its good. Honestly. 

My parent's house was sold in November 2016. The son of the former VP of Student Development at my alma mater, Bethel College bought my childhood home. Although I'm sad, I'm also at peace knowing the young man who purchased Momma & Dad's house will take care of it and make it a home. I know his parents, his Uncle & Aunt and his Grandparents. (His Uncle was my pastor from elementary through adulthood.) I'm grateful for how it all worked out. Relieved that the sale of the house is complete. My house is now filled with items from their house....I want to be surrounded by them, forever. 

I generally stay in "the Cave" on a daily basis unless I absolutely HAVE to go out, whether to a meeting or the grocery store. I've restarted my job search, so re-entering the real world as a career professional is in my near future unless I find a remote position that allows me to work from home (JACKPOT!)

Life is, slowly, getting back to normal. Being without my Momma and my Dad, NOT normal. But life goes on, and I still hold on to their memory each and every day I take a breath.