I'm Growing

A Mirror Of Our Love

  Someone once said, "Grief is your love, turned inside out.". I like that. It really is true. Why do sorrow and grief hurt so bad? Because the love was so strong. And if you're a HSP (Highly Sensitive Person) like me, then you do indeed feel deeply; both the good and the bad. My husband has been trying to help me overcome this intense sensitivity for about a year now, and it's slow progress. Really slow. My family called me a drama queen, though I never meant to be one; I was just different in how I reacted to situations. My problem was that I was never "happy" or "sad". I felt things sharper; deeper. Instead of happy, I was ecstatic. Instead of sad, I was despondent. To make things more complicated, I picked up other people's sorrows and problems and internalized them. I could be having a perfectly good day, but if someone near me was feeling down, then BOOM! I'd be crushed and depressed with them, with no clear way of how to get back to being happy. I still struggle with this, although it's gotten better in the last year (again, thanks to my patient man!).

  Being a HSP and someone who internalizes other people's emotions has proved to be the ultimate challenge as I still wade through grief these days. My husband is back from bootcamp, and I am SO happy to have him home! But at the exact same time, I still struggle with the sadness that things didn't work out the way we wanted them to. This was all my husband wanted, and his lifelong dream got snatched away. I didn't realize I did it, but I internalized all of his emotions. It's almost like my mind is saying, "Here, let me suffer the heartbreak for you, so you don't have to." I took his sadness, despair, frustration, and grief, and added it to my own feelings of grief. WHY DO I DO THIS!?!?!? As if my double suffering is really going to help anyone??? Grrr. But I did it, and now I'm trying to get out of this mess.

  Grief hurts because it's a mirror of our love.

  A few people, here and there, are starting to give me the whole, "it's time to move on" speech. Or telling me that this really is hardly anything to still be grieving over. I just keep my mouth shut at this, because 1) I can jolly well grieve as long as I need to, and 2) absolutely nothing decent would come out of my mouth if I responded. Grief is just too personal to put a limit on. A normal person could probably move past this faster, but for a sensitive person who took on a double load of emotions? It's gonna' take a whole lot longer.

  The healing process has proved interesting, at least. It's an inward journey to see what works, and what doesn't. I'm writing in my journal every day, to vent and explore my muddled mind, and after that there's lots of time on my yoga mat, lots of practice in quieting my mind through concentrated breathing, and of course reading my Bible.

  Grief is a challenge, in that it strikes you at random times throughout the day. I can be having a happy day, and then something will spark that sadness... It can be folding my man's camo pants/blouse, putting his cover (hat) away, or even simply seeing a USMC decal on someone's truck. I try so hard to fight those feelings... Try to battle the sadness, the disappointment. Sometimes it works better than others.

  Grief hurts because it's a mirror of our love. I have no desire to temper the intensity of my compassion and love, so I guess I have to accept the intensity of the grief, and learn to tame the beast. What an uphill climb...

  Namaste.

Martial Arts Meets Dance (and Yoga)

 During Yoga class today, my instructor informed everyone that there was going to be a special class held next Sunday afternoon. She called this technique "Nia Dancing", and said it was basically a mix of martial arts, freestyle dancing, yoga, and tai chi. I was immediately intrigued, but still had no clue what this would look like, so I had to CTG this (Consult The Google). And voila! A Youtube video immediately came up, and I am all the more intrigued! So Sunday afternoon, thou shalt find me clumsily learning how to dance a very new style.

 I'm excited. ^_^

Introducing The Woodstove: Vlog!

 Some weird mood came over me yesterday morning, and I decided to try doing a video again, after over a year's break! It's raw, it's got flubs, but it's here in all its funky glory. My friends, I would like to introduce you to my cantankerous wood cookstove that I argue with every day. :)

This Place I Call Home

  Ta da!! It's your lucky day! Y'all get PICTURES! Today's picture roll is a tour of where I live, and have lived for the last year. It's a little apartment space above my in-laws shop; it currently has no running water, there's no heat except the wood stove in the kitchen, the bathroom has only a composting toilet, and no shower (I promise I do take showers. Every day. I just have to go next door to take one!), and it's pretty dark even on the best of days.

 But you know what? I LOVE it here! Really. It's a quirky little spot, but it's home to me and my husband.

 So, without further ado... Let the tour begin!

First off is ze' kitchen. The picture you see below is the view you get when you first walk in the door.

And here's the "kitchen part" of the kitchen. LOL. Lots of checkers going on here! But I like it; it's cheery in a funky sort of way.

A view of our lovely, slightly-cantankerous wood stove...

The "bedroom" area. There's no real bedroom; it's all one big, open space. But we have a corner of the house for the bed. Nothing fancy, but quite comfortable. :-) (and that mishmash of papers on the wall are where I tape up all the drawings that little kids give me. I'm sappy like that... Hehe.)

The living room! Yes, that's another wood stove right there in the middle, but we can't use it due to the fact that it burns too hot (no damper on it) and could potentially set the place on fire. Which, last I heard, was not a good thing. As you can see, we've got twinkle lights hanging to add more light (much needed here!), and they've been hanging since last year; when a blog reader mentioned stringing them up to help me sleep better at night (which they did, and I finally got to the point that I can sleep without them. LOL.). The open door on the right leads to the bathroom, and the closed door on the left is the "man cave". Yep, I let my husband have his very own man cave. To which, I'm not allowed to go in unless I want internet, because that's the only spot where you can sometimes get a little bit of working wi-fi.

  Believe it or not, that's all there is to this house! It's tiny, but fun. You can walk the whole length of it in 15-20 steps. I've enjoyed my year here though, and I'm going to miss it when we finally have to move...

 But there you have it. This is where the distracted yogi lives and distractedly tries to accomplish her yoga. ;)

Elephants Are Cool. Vague Ideas Are Not.

Have you ever had the feeling of being on the very brink of an idea? The feeling that you're supposed to do something; something that may very well change your life, but you're not sure what it is? It's just -- a feeling. It's so tantalizingly close though. It flits through your dreams, races past while you wash the dishes, just out of reach, just out of range. Oh it's horrible! And yet, so exciting! You're constantly looking for it, trying to figure it out, trying to grasp this elusive thought. 

  I'm stuck in this moment, and have been for the last two weeks. It's like watching a seed sprout and grow; I can't quite tell what flower it will turn out to be, so I have to just wait and watch it slowly, gently, peacefully unfurl. I have this vague idea of doing something, but that's just it: It's vague; hazy; undefined. I'm an impatient person, and I'm aching to get to the bottom of this and find out if this is even a logical idea, but at this point... I don't know!! All I know is it has something to do with writing. And people. And teaching. And journals. And elephants. I kid; no elephants. *wink* I just wanted to see if you were still awake. Elephants are cool though; I like their big feet. Ahem, anyway. Back to the vague idea. I have NO idea what this idea is. I only know that its been haunting me for two weeks. It's growing into SOMETHING; but I don't know what yet!! It may prove to be a brainchild, but my gosh... I'm still in the first trimester of the pregnancy if that's the case. 

  I'll keep you posted. Hopefully I get an epiphany soon.

P.S. Just for the sake of keeping you in the loop, my husband is finally home!!! *Squeeeeee!* He got home not too long ago, which is why I haven't been writing. Ah've been busy enjoyin' havin' mah' man home! (no idea what's up with that accent; it just came suddenly).

Be Different

Little Calf, Sassafras

 My favorite milk cow here at the farm just calved two weeks ago, and had a gorgeous little heifer (female)!! The little girl has been named Sassafras, and I am *quite* smitten with her. Amidst all my smittenness, I remembered that I should share some pictures!

Little Calf, Sassafras!

I Keep It Safe

  If you look at my profile picture (top, right corner of blog), you may notice that I seem to be wearing a necklace. It looks quite ordinary, so you probably paid very little - if any - attention to it. What you can't really tell from that profile picture, is that it's not a regular necklace chain that ladies usually wear. It's a ball chain, like what military dog tags hang from. This chain stays tucked into my shirt 24/7. I don't bring it out, I rarely show it to others, and it's even more rare that I tell what's on the end.

  I will let you in on the secret though. It's nothing earth shattering, but it means a lot to me. It's my husbands wedding band...

 Jet black in color so that it'd be safe to wear in combat, polished smooth, and made of tungsten carbide, I keep it on a chain around my neck. Why isn't my husband wearing it, you ask? The military doesn't allow men to wear any sort of jewelry during training; including wedding bands. So while my man could have still taken it with him, and kept it in a locker with his other civilian items, he let me keep it safe for him.

 And so 'keep it safe', I do. I'm horrible when it comes to remembering where I put things, and I was terrified of losing his ring! So onto the chain it went, and now here it stays until he comes home.

 I love being able to wear this unique necklace all the time, but truth be told... I'll like it even better when I don't have to wear it anymore; because that will mean that my husband is finally home and wearing the ring himself!

  And that's something I look forward to. :-)

It Hurts Because It Mattered

via Unsplash

 Sometimes life is downright hard. It can be cruel, disheartening, and even depressing. I'm experiencing this right now. I've been experiencing this for the last couple of weeks. Life tossed me lemons, and I've momentarily lost my recipe for lemonade. I will be brutally honest: My husband and I have long planned on living the military lifestyle, and we've worked doggedly towards that. Then something came up two weeks ago, out of the blue, and my dear man is being discharged. All of our hopes and dreams were washed down the drain by one small signature. The first week of dealing with that was hell for me. I wanted and needed my husband near me to help me through the painful sobs that racked my body day and night, and he needed me too. But the military has yet to let him go... He's almost 2,000 miles away from me, and I have no idea when he will finally get to come home. He sends me letters from base, but I'm not allowed to send any back. He can make a five-minute phone call once a week, but I can't call him. It's one thing to deal with this type of thing when you know your loved one is actively serving, and busy. But when you know he's supposed to be home, and the freaking military is in no hurry to send him back, and you both need each other to process the whole problem... Suddenly it's a very big deal that communication is so limited.

This whole blog began because I needed a writing outlet to help me through this grief. This is the whole reason I started yoga. I was depressed, I stopped eating and sleeping, I was losing a gross amount of weight, and I was getting seriously sick. I knew something needed to happen, but I didn't know how to get out of this funk. On a whim, I decided to try going to a yoga class that was close by. I went into that class feeling the way I just described. I walked out feeling peaceful, calm, and focused. I was hooked. So from then on, I began doing yoga every day. Starting out with just 15 minutes of working out, and each day going a little longer until I had the stamina to easily go an hour.

  It's on my mat that life disappears. I focus on my breath, my stance, my twists, the rhythm of the music... My mat has become a place that negativity, doubt, and fear cannot overtake.

  But I can't always be on my mat. So I'm learning how to deal with grief. And you know what? Most people aren't right when they tell you how to deal with it. They tell you to tough up, or stay positive, or that things will get better soon, or that crying doesn't solve anything. I've decided that these people have clearly never felt true grief.

  No, when it all falls apart, it hurts. It hurts bad. And you know what? It's supposed to hurt. It hurts because it mattered.

  I can't claim to be an expert on how to process grief, but if you're in the same emotional boat as I am right now, then here are a couple tips I offer in love.

  Feel free to cry to help you through. Cry so much that you get scald marks on the corner of your eyes from the hot tears. Scream if you have to. It helps. Stomp the ground, slam your fists on a wall, hug your knees and rock back and forth, or whatever you need to do.

  Allow yourself to grieve. It really is okay to just be sad. Mind you, taking the path that I took of "no food, no sleep" is a dangerous one and I don't recommend that. Be sad, yes. But don't neglect yourself. Listening to emotional music can be great too. I admit that I find myself singing the chorus of Avril Lavigne's song 'Wish You Were Here' (click link to open a new window and have a listen). It's not a song my mother would approve of, but gosh it helps to yell that chorus while driving my truck on back, country roads. Listening to really upbeat music after the sad stuff helps too. Really.

  Find a routine. With routine comes a more peaceful mind. My favorite routine is to take a long, hot shower, either in the afternoon or evening, and then do my yoga right after that. But I try to keep my whole day fairly planned out.

  Swear if you have to. I'm not normally a swearing type of person, but I will admit that sometimes it really helps to use strong language when muttering to myself (or loudly singing in the truck).

  Be nice to yourself. Don't go bonkers, but heck, go buy something that you've been eyeing for awhile (and is in the budget. Now might *not* be the time to get a loan on that BMW you've been wanting). Buy a book or two. Or a new, incredibly sexy outfit (guilty), or buy a king sized bag of chocolate and eat it all (also rather guilty). Buy a new video game, go get your hair dyed, or if you're sure you can make the commitment... Buy a pet.

  Do something new. Remember? This is how I got so hooked on yoga! I was sinking in a dark depression, but decided to try something new. If you've never done yoga, I would GREATLY encourage you to start! If you're already familiar with yoga, try something else; oil painting, hip hop dancing, singing, or martial arts. I just had my first Tai Kwon Do class yesterday evening (again, something new). I'm horrible at it, I'm in a class with 7 - 8 year olds who are better than me, and it's something I've NEVER done before. But it's fun! Martial arts are a great thing to take up during certain kinds of grief; it's empowering, strengthening, and focusing. It's like yoga on aggressive steroids.

  Volunteer somewhere. Somehow, helping others really helps. It may take a week or two, or three, before you're ready to be around people though, and that's fine. Take your time. I'm currently trying to get a position as a volunteer at my local animal shelter. I think it'll be something I enjoy, and at the same time it'll keep my body and brain occupied.

  Write. Even if you can hardly spell, and think you're a horrible writer, write anyway. This one is really important. Get those thoughts out! No one is going to peek, or correct your grammar, or judge. If you want to, burn the pages after writing. There is something quite fulfilling about writing down negative things and watching them burn to ash.

  Take your time. Don't put a time limit on how long you are allowed to grieve. If it takes three months, that's okay. If it takes a year, that's okay too. You may feel great one day or week, and then feel like you're back at square one the next day or week. Grief is not linear. It's not a straight line that has a perfect start and stop. You won't just suddenly be over it 5 months later on a Wednesday at 3:22pm. Sorry, but that's not the way it works. Instead it's a pattern of upright zigzags; like watching a heart beat on a monitor. You'll have highs, and you'll have lows. But eventually, yes eventually, those zigzags will start having more ups than downs. The upswings will be higher, and the downward dips will be shallower. Time doesn't necessarily heal the wound. It just lessens the pain.

  And yes, someday you will be able to smile again. I know you will.

Your Raw, Beautiful Self

via Unsplash

 I have lived a life behind a mask; not a physical mask, mind you, but rather a metaphorical one. I have hidden who I was; ashamed of my looks, my interests, my voice, my stance, my vibe. And I am not the only one. I will wager that you too have also lived a life behind a mask; perhaps you still are. Why do we humans do this? We ALL do it! It's as though there is some unspoken standard that we all have to conform to, rather than being our unique selves. We're uncomfortable wearing a certain pair of jeans that we love because "what might people say?? They might not approve of those rips!" We're hesitant to dye our hair a different, fun color that we've always wanted because "People might think I'm weird". We're afraid to love ourselves for how we naturally look because we don't look like a photoshopped, anorexic model from Hollywood. And of course we can't sing and jive in the car, because - well - people might think we're nuts!!

  People are so beautiful... We're so different and unique, and when we let our raw, beautiful selves shine through it's a staggering thing to behold. My friend, do you know how amazing you look when you are confident?? 

 You can tell at a glance when someone is comfortable with how they look, and how they are. They practically glow from within. Sure, they still have problems, but they at least have less than those of us who still have our doubts and fears about ourselves! They have a joy about them. Their vibe is one of happiness and contentment. I know people like this, and I desperately strive to be like them... And yet, not be like them. I want their passion, their energy, their enthusiasm, joy, and happiness. But I want it to be stemming from my own unique self; not from attempting to copy who they are. 

 We're all so gorgeously unique. DON'T HIDE IT!! Let it out! And don't you dare ever let someone pull you down because of it. 

Accepting yourself is one of the greatest keys to life; something I'm still discovering and mastering. I'm an introvert, so that makes me tend to "keep myself to myself". In other words, I'm one way at home, and another way in front of people. This isn't right, and I know it. But over the last year I've gotten better about accepting myself, and loving the awesome, unique, crazy person who I've been created to be! This entire post came to mind while driving home from yoga class this morning. It had been an awesome morning with the instructor, and all the other wonderful people there to do yoga, and I was feeling pretty dang upbeat while going home. I was only halfway through town, when I decided to do what I had always mentally considered "improper". I boosted my music up, and by Jove did I bop and jive, and sing along! Yes, I looked CRAZY!! But I was happy and laughing, and you know what? Other people saw me. And instead of getting those looks of reproof I'd always feared, they smiled too! I was being me, and people were fine with it!

  Here's a secret I have for you: You don't owe society anything. If someone thinks your pink leggings are weird, or doesn't care for your chalk highlights (I admit, I'm over the moon in love with chalk highlights right now), or thinks you have too many piercings, or doesn't like your music, voice, or the way you break out into a happy dance in the store, just tell them that you're currently not accepting bullshit, and they can take theirs somewhere else! Okay, you could be more polite than that... A simple smile and wink will usually do it too. People who judge aren't happy people; and happy people weird. Them. Out. So don't be surprised if people comment, but for your sake I beg you... Don't let it affect you! You're not ugly, you're beautiful! You're not fat, you're just the right size (my husband calls me "fluffy", and personally I love that term. LOL.)! You're not dumb, or hopeless, or too nerdy, or weird. You're perfect. You are so, so beautifully perfect. And you deserve to realize that. Because when you do, life will suddenly be a whole lot brighter, happier, and better. Think I'm joking? I dare you to give it a try. See if it doesn't affect you when you suddenly accept your whole self.

 People are so beautiful... We're so different and unique, and when we let our raw, beautiful selves shine through it's a staggering thing to behold. My friend, do you know how amazing you look when you are confident?? 

The "Ever-So-Horrible" First Post

  I really, really hate doing first posts on new blogs. Always have, and probably always will! If there's one thing in this life that will make me procrastinate, it's knowing that I have to write a "first post". Blah. And I honestly don't know why; maybe my psyche rebels at messing the pretty, white background up with my rambling musings... Or maybe it's that I've always been bad at initiating things (probably the reason I don't have many friends!). Well, anyway. Whatever. 'Zis is the official "first post" done by Moi, AKA, "the distracted yogi". Ta da! Wow, I just initiated the beginning of this blog! *note much sarcasm*

  Please allow me to virtually shake your hand. Or bow and give you a "Namaste". Whichever you choose. Welcome to my humble little blog; I hope you stay awhile. :-)