It's Tough Getting Soft

This is going to be a highly personal post, so forgive me in advance. I have always worked out my feelings and my problems by writing, ever since I was a little girl.

It has now evolved into a two step process. I write to sort it out and then I run to re-align my feelings into the places they belong. Writing works the head and heart, running works the body, heart and soul and then somehow synthesizes it all and puts it in perspective. You can run through the pain and out the other side, stronger, somehow. 

I've mentioned a few times in past posts that I've had a recent heartbreak. And I have to say that struggling with the loss of a man is really new to me. 

My history is that when I was a young woman I was glib and glossy. I thought I was deep, loving, really "in" my relationships with men, but in fact I was always very defended and distant. I didn't share the real me, mostly because I didn't know who that was, and I didn't trust that I was loveable. It didn't make for successful love relationships, but it did make me the queen of the easy break-up. When I was done, I was DONE, and I never looked back or felt a thing. I thought I was tough and strong but in reality I was just scared. Scared to get real, scared to have someone know me, scared to feel. 

Phase Two in my development was that I went into hiding. A bunch of life events, painful ones, lined up and shook me to my core, knocked me right off the glossy, icy path I was skating on. And I retreated into myself. 

I made a decision to stay alone to learn how to love myself and create my own happiness. I spent a 12 year period doing just that. 

In all honesty, most of the years were spent with a harsh, bitter undertone. I had a lot of anger for men seething right under the surface. I also had a lot of self righteous disdain for women who needed a man.  I'm not proud of that period of my life. It was brutal, but it was a necessary part of the journey. I had to work through my hardness- like being a miner. I had to tunnel through layers and layers of stone, chip it away with my pick-ax, to get to the gold. And you guessed it; the gold was my heart. The gold was my softness, my vulnerability. 

And then one day I had an experience where I literally felt my heart open up and bloom like a giant flower.  It was a life-changing moment. Because it wasn't just a momentary fluke. My heart opened up and softened and stayed that way. There was no turning back. And living with an open heart was a whole new world.

So the new decision, the new challenge was to learn to love from this startlingly new, open hearted, vulnerable position. The idea almost took my breath away with it's poignancy. Just writing about it brings tears to my eyes. Because it's scary. And the longing for a real connection is so, so deep. 

But obviously I have a lot to learn about love. Or maybe the prayer I floated out into the universe, "Let me learn to love"

was the wrong one, or at least incomplete. Maybe it should have been,

"Let me learn to love AND be loved." Or maybe "Let me be in a happy, working love relationship."

Because right out of the gate, I fell in love with a man who couldn't quite love me back. And I got hurt. Badly. 

I was real with him. I let him see me and know me, in a way I had never done before. I liked, no loved, who I was in that relationship. I am still proud of myself for showing up and being vulnerable. Even though I should have used a little better judgement. 

Of course I had to leave the relationship to keep my self respect, to love myself, to "hold my own hand".  Breaking up wasn't easy, like in the past. It was SAD. And lonely. But necessary. 

This quote from my hero Mandy Hale, AKA The Single Woman, (http://www.thesinglewoman.com/) says exactly what I feel. I wish I'd written this. I certainly could have.

"To love someone who can’t quite love you back is a powerful thing…but to love yourself MORE is an even more powerful thing. My Mr. Big hurt me, challenged me, refined me, disappointed me, strengthened me, infuriated me, motivated me, polished me, and inspired me. He taught me both how to let down my walls and be vulnerable and to set boundaries to protect my heart. He taught me to embrace my spontaneous side and follow my heart instead of my head, and to live for the moment a little bit more. More importantly, he taught me how to love myself too much to stay connected to someone who doesn’t love me enough."

Right??? 

Yesterday morning I left the door to my cottage open, and two little birds flew in, made one graceful, synchronized swoop through my main room, and then glided right back out the door. I looked up the symbolism/superstitious meaning and it said that a bird flying into your house means that you will be receiving an important message. And if it flies right back out it means that you are releasing something negative from your life. 

And so, I release the "wrong" love. I will keep mining for the lessons, keep going for the gold, keep refining my prayers and my process. I'll go back to the basics of who I am. Yesterday was a good day, a day when I really did get to do the things that make me me. 

I started the day by getting my taxes done, made enjoyable by the fact that I had a real, deep connection with my tax preparer.  We shared stories. We laughed.  Then I went home and completed my daughter's FAFSA for college. 

And after the practical, productive things were done, I took a nice run on new trails out at Boerne City Lake. I felt the breeze and the sunshine on my head. I smiled as I ran.  

And after my run, I drove the back roads to Guene, past ditches covered in the bluebonnets so dear to my heart. I fell back in love with Texas in the springtime. 

I strolled and window shopped through 

Gruene. I smiled at everyone I passed.

Then I ducked into Gruene Hall for some live music.

And I remembered who I was, who I am.

So I'll wait for the important message those two little swooping birds promised. 

X2. 

Or maybe I've already received it. 

Thanks.

Happy Anniversary to ME!

Tonight it will be one year since I moved to Texas. I still throw open the door every morning and yell, "Helloooooo, Lover!"  to Texas. I still thank my lucky stars. I'm still filled with gratitude to the angels who helped me get here. And to the angels who helped me stay here. I'm still humbled by the strength of my love for this place. 

In 2013 the stars just seemed to align for me to do this thing I'd always wanted to do. Since I was 16, I've wanted to move to Texas. I fell in love with TX music and it kind of became my world. I was all Frye boots and cowboy hats.  Way before it was cool. But I was 16. And then I was married.  And then divorced and a single mom. And then remarried. And then double divorced and a single mom to 3. 

But I always told my family: "As soon as I am free of commitments, I'm moving to Texas."

Almost 40 years later, in 2013, the time was finally right. 

I quit my professional job, gave my condo back to ex #2, packed my youngest off to college in Chicago and invited friends over to take my "stuff"- they carted off TVs and furniture and I just smiled and waved.  

Goodwill got bags and bags of stuff.  

Nothing had ever felt more right.

Then I got on a plane to TX with 2 suitcases. 

This year was filled with magic and adventure and exploring and MUSIC! 

I listened to so much live music it made my soul fill up. I ate BBQ and swam in deep blue swimming holes and drank Shiner Bock.

I camped and hiked at Big Bend. I ran the loop trail at Enchanted Rock. I met the greatest, deepest people I have ever known.  I photographed musicians; the BEST musicians in the world, I listened to even more music. I took a few spins on old dancehall floors- even though I'm "no kinda dancer." I fell in love with watching the sun sink behind the live oaks. I ran through ditches deep in blue bonnets. I battled killer scorpions.

But underneath all the fun, I was growing, I was changing. The more I committed to living my dreams, whatever it took, the more I was loving me.  I started to understand that our dreams are there for a reason, they are not just random, even if it seems that way. The dreams we have exist to help us find our truest, deepest selves. I still don't know why this is true- but I am able to be more me here than anywhere else. Texas is where I belong. 

I'm still not sure what my purpose is here, but I know it will one day reveal itself to me. Until then, I'll love every second, every hill country raindrop, every chance meeting with a Texan who drawls, "Sixth generation, ma'am!" 

Oh, there are down sides, as with any life journey. I miss my family, grieve that I am not there to see my precious, breath-taking granddaughters grown up. I am sometimes struck down raw, hardly able to breathe, with the pain of missing them.

I wish I was there to help support my beautiful daughter as she works hard to parent them. Her competency astounds me, and yet, I long to be there by her side. I miss being able to be there for my mom, as she struggles with facing her end-of-life issues. I miss my sister, who believes in me, and my fine , fine friends who never really could understand my Texas longing. 

 

But if I wasn't here, I wouldn't be able to be the person I was meant to be. Because somewhere in this big, big, beautiful state, there are keys to my very existence. I can feel the truth of that deep in my bones. So I stay. And I plant my boot heels in the dirt. And I breathe it all in and say a little prayer.  And I flood with gratitude. And I believe.

I learned that there is a difference between "running away from" and "running towards". The universe supports growth and truth, it supports running towards your dreams. If you're running away from something, things are going to get messy. If you're thinking of running away, stop. Take a deep breath, and clean up as much of the mess as you can before you run. Because if you don't, you're going to carry the whole damn mess with you. Running towards, on the other hand, is about trust. It's about following your heart, the longings and pull of your one sweet, raw and beating heart, and trusting it to lead you to that place, that moment where you belong. 

My anniversary day was filled with love- for Texas, Texas music and the fine Texans I've had the pleasure to meet. It was filled with self love too-- a little pride in my brave adventuring. I ran 10 miles in the beautiful hill country rain today, and that was the best celebration I could have asked for. Because every step said, "this is my home." Every breath said, "You belong here." 

Happy Anniversary. Welcome home.

Got Sisu?

Today is Texas Independence Day, and while I wasn't lucky enough to grow up in Texas and haven't yet learned all the rich history of this beautiful state, I feel such a deep love and appreciation for Texas and it's people that I've been celebrating all morning. I celebrated by running in the misty rain, and then drinking coffee on my porch, listening to the rain on the old tin roof along with a fine, fine playlist of Texas music. A beautiful harmony.

I have always tried to explain to people who don't get it, why Texas is so special. 

And more and more, I realize it's the people.  I suspect it has to do with being raised with Texas pride. When you have deep, strong, proud roots, your heart grows strong and big, like the 500 year old live oak next to my cottage. A proud heart can afford to be open and loving, it can embrace others and dare to dream and fly and create. 

My experience moving to Texas, and believe me,"I got here as soon as I could!" has been that Texans meet me with a open, loving stance.  I have appreciated every interaction with every Texan I've met.  And I've been a close observer, a field researcher, shall we say, watching and pondering why Texans are so.... different. So great. 

And so far I think Texas pride is a big part of the answer. I will keep studying and learn more!

The closest thing I have in my own experience to Texas pride is the way I feel  about my Finnish heritage. Finns pride themselves on their sisu- a quality of tenaciousness, a gritty determination to power on through, regardless of obstacle. Sisu can be grim and joyless or it can be spirited and sprightly.

 I choose to live it in the latter way, which calls for a trust in the universe, in the world, as well as in one's own ability to weather the storm.  It doesn't presume that you can't be hurt, only that you are strong enough to handle whatever comes your way.

I think the following quote, by Jeff Brown, is the best description of my personal interpretation of SISU:

So I will keep watchin' and studying all you amazing Texans. I'll keep on wearing my heart on my sleeve and feeling all my feelings, even when "the odds are stacked against me." I'll keep my "heart open on the darkest of days." 

And maybe, in time, it will grow and stretch and absorb a little Texas pride and have roots as deep as my old live oak. That's what I'm envisioning.

Happy Birthday Texas!!