Over the Rainbow is Here

Today I bid thee farewell, my special unhappiness

You have been a steady companion lo these many years

You have held my hand and held me back

Kept me safe, yes, but also kept me on the outside

Looking in at my own life

I thought you were a force beyond my grasp

I thought you were put inside me

That I was a host and you had taken root

Turns out that like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz

I have had the key all along

All it takes is this: my decision to let you go

I am sovereign over my own self

And I no longer want  you here, in the driver’s seat

So farewell, my old friend

I am sure you will raise your voice now and then

But I choose to no longer recognize your power

So you may wish to find a new dwelling

My heart is full of other things now

There is no space for you here

Inspired By The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: finally

Well-Nigh

When almost is not good enough

When your best falls short if you are not the one who wins

I wonder

Who began the system of there being only one winner

That if you were not that one, you were out

A loser

Who started that way of approaching life

That there is only one who rises, only one who accomplishes

Why not

A system that allows for almost, for second place, for near enough

Wouldn’t there be more to celebrate, more movement for all

I wonder

Would we really all stop trying if there were no top prize valued above all

I wonder

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: almost

From Rags to Riches

Sometimes it can be difficult to spend money.

I am not talking about the difficulty of budgeting one’s funds.

Or flat out being broke or stretched way thin financially.

I am talking about these little pockets of things that I find it difficult to spend money on.

They often, if not usually, have to do with ordinary and necessary things.

Underwear. Bras. Curtains or window treatments. Towels. An air conditioner, a new mattress.

There were these things that I felt so guilty doing, such as buying new bras.

I often literally feel nauseous after doing so.

It is as if I am more comfortable neglecting myself than giving myself the “luxury” of having them.

There is a mentality that I absorbed somewhere along the way that to not be wanting is to be “bad” in some way. As in morally.

Those who do not struggle are extravagant. (This is a negative.) There’s a judgement towards them.

Those who earn and struggle, who often “do without,” are just better people than those who “have,” who didn’t work for it, who’ve had life handed to them on “a silver platter.”

There was a real disdain for people “born with a silver spoon in their mouth.”

And so living well, with all the creature comforts is something to be grateful for and be generous around (which I am.) But it is also something of an embarrassment, something I am ashamed of.

I am talking unconscious here. This is something I have been unraveling for some time.

It feels scary to have “enough.”

Now, putting fear fo scarcity thinking aside, for I do have that as well at times despite having worked on that for some time, I mean that it feels dangerous to be a person who is not wanting. Who has enough. Why is this?

I know I am the child of parents who grew up post World Way II and that certainly shaped their attitudes, which informed mine.

My father knew poverty, but he could also have been the poster child for The Great American Dream: a self-made man who took advantage of ROTC and Navy scholarships to get an education, he was by all accounts a hugely successful man.

Maybe he felt conflicted about his own success. I know I do.

I wish to embrace the abundances in my life, and I do: on a daily basis I practice gratitude for all that I have, in every way: love, health, family, friends, freedom, opportunity. Material comforts and luxuries.

I believe in being of service. In giving back to the Universe. I believe in circulating abundance.

And I feel guilty. And ashamed. And aware of the privilege of being a white, American woman who grew up middle class.

This is not at all where I meant to go in this blog. I meant to examine why it is hard to buy new socks to replace old, worn ones. To examine the little ways I find that I still neglect  and limit myself.

But here I am writing about all of this. And just now in this moment, I am attempting to suppress a desire to apologize for being so privileged that I can write a blog about my guilt around being white and privileged. I feel guilty around my own guilt, for that, too is privileged.

Is this just a reflection of the climate I am living in?

Are we given messages that it is wrong to have a “rich” life? (Rich in love as well rich in abundance.)

Is the only “valid” life one of being down-trodden, of struggling?

How do successful and abundant people handle their abundance?

How do successful and abundant people of color handle their abundance? Do they feel as if they are betraying something or someone?

What is extravagance? Is it a concept invented by moralistic religious groups to encourage tithing?

What is monetary currency really anyway? Is having it or not any indicator of anything?

I am confused. And I don’t think I got here on my own. (Meaning, I think perhaps we as a society are confused. There are certainly mixed messages in our media and pop culture.)

I clearly have a lot more unraveling to do! I would love your thoughts around any of these thoughts.

Inspired by The Daily Post Dsily Word Prompt: extravagant

Sacred Space

Snuggling against your body

I feel your warmth

The rise and fall of your breath

My own heartbeat

As I press my chest into your back

My face fits cozily

Between your neck and the pillow

This is everything, I think

This is everything

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: cozy

To the Grave

“I will never confess it,” she said to no one in particular as she put the secret ingredient into her famous Texas Candy recipe.

Many had tried to guess what it was; many had pressed her hard to tell.

She knew they’d never figure it out, and with that, she smiled a little self-satisfied smile and set them out to cool.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: confess

No Trace

“Hmmph,” she said to no one in particular as was her proclivity as she looked down at the lipstick mark her lips made after the first sip of her first cup of coffee of the day.

With a little too much force, she wiped away every trace of Eldorado Red from the rim of her cup before taking the next sip.

And thus began her morning routine, sipping, swiping and then sipping again, which oddly gave her a feeling of extreme self-satisfaction every time.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: proclivity

Cherished Objects

Happy holidays to all!

I am with my family in Texas, enjoying us all being together, laughing, talking, playing games.

My sister-in-love inherited all of my Mom’s many cherished collected holiday things.

My two favorites: my Mom’s manzanite tree that she decorated for every holiday, and a Santa that always sat under our tree at Christmas.

To you and yours, wishing you a wonderful day.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Post: cherish

Wild at Heart

I was raised to be mild

All the wild in me tamed

Strong desires in me shamed

Made an adult while still a child

Now at mid-life, the end in sight

I’m awakening my wild

Reviving my inner child

Letting loose my appetite

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: mild

Family Friend

This guy’s seen many, many holidays…he was under my Mom’s trees when she was a little girl. Then he was under our trees in my childhood. Now he lives at my brother and sister-in-love’s.

I still love seeing him each year.

It really is the little things.

#familyholidaytraditions #santa

Heads or Tails

I am often torn.

Making decisions is usually difficult for me. (See Cutting the Cord.)

I don’t know if it is because I am a Libra or what, but I can always see the benefits of all sides to a decision, and it makes it very hard to choose.

I do not particularly enjoy this part of my personality, though I do appreciate my ability to see more than just one side.

I also think a large contributing factor is my fear of making a mistake. What if I screw up my whole life because I choose wrong?

Yikes. Pressure much?

The past few years, I have been realizing that even in the past when I have made decisions that I felt were “wrong,” later on, they turned out to be “right” in some way. Even through what seemed like a real mistake, something necessary came from the experience.

The black and white thinking that a choice could have that much power over my existence…not sure where that comes from. But I know that I cannot – no, I will not – live like that anymore.

In the last year, I have made it a goal to stress less around decision-making. To just make the best decision I can with the info I have at the time that I am making it and to then “let the chips fall where they may.”

Easier said than done, but I have made some headway.

When I find myself feeling “torn” over the different options I am deciding between, I just stop myself and gently but firmly make myself take the leap in one direction.

Sometimes it has been anxiety-producing. And sometimes, very liberating.

It is always better than staying stuck (and torn) between options.

What are some ways that you make decisions that you feel work well?

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: torn