Light the World

Barring your soul in a public and open forum is daunting at best.  It stirs up many emotions that you didn't realize you had...a mix of relief, joy, sadness and anger, mixed with a teeny bit of self-loathing and regret.  I experienced this phenomenon yesterday when I decided to publish three different blogs, exposing heart and soul (literally) after reaching an emotional saturation point and needing an outlet for my thoughts. 

I'm hot and cold with my writing...sometimes it flows like a mighty river after a spring thaw; other times it is as hard to come by as rain in the midst of a desert drought. Clearly, I am in need of wellies these days!

Anytime you put yourself out there, there is a risk it will change peoples' perception of you. At a certain point though, you have to learn not to care. In my quest for personal growth and healing, I am learning that to keep my faith strong inside, I have to take risks and allow my light to shine outward.  Matthew 5:16 states “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify our Father which is in heaven.”

Maybe I'm misinterpreting the meaning, but for me I've felt for a long time as if I've kept a piece of myself inside, buried deep in the back of my closet, running perilously close to not seeing the light of day again.  One day, I decided I'd had enough of diving through mountains of clothes, bags of scarfs and boxes of purses, just to find the one, bright shiny item I needed for a special occasion.  Tossing the excess baggage aside, I organized and catalogued every keep-worthy piece until the closet shone bright and new, a joy to behold!

And then I looked over and realized the toss pile is stacked high to the ceiling, with no place to call home. If I don't discard these items, I run the risk of burying my precious shiny pieces again.  Likewise, if I don't deal with what is keeping my light from shining, it will once again be buried deep in the back.

Where do I go from here? 

And so the journey continues...

 

Living Faith

But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, 1 Peter 3:15

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. 

Thinking about work, about love, about family.  Mostly though, I've been thinking about God and my relationship with Him.

In times of strife, one often turns to God for help.  Help in the form of guidance, protection, or a miracle.  Having been baptized and confirmed Catholic, I grew up with a strong sense of spirituality, but had an omnipresent hesitation towards the Religion.  In my teen years, I started to pull away from the Church - largely out of rebellion towards my parents, who were trying to force me down that path even after my Confirmation, but I saw no point in it.  Eventually they gave up trying, and I gave up caring. 

As I got older, I began to realize that some of my hesitation was directed toward what I felt was the hypocritical a-la-carte approach to the Faith, by many Catholics who called themselves "practicing" but in reality were picking and choosing what was convenient for them.  Midnight Mass was in the same bucket as baking Christmas cookies and decorating the tree - a nice Christmas tradition to do with the kids every year and an excuse to show off the Christmas dresses. 

I'm sorry, but what about every other Sunday in the year?  One thing I know is that to be in the Lord's favor you need to live, breath and set example through your Faith and the Tenants of that Faith as directed by Church leaders.  Going to Church once a year didnt cut it; as a Catholic, I was (at a minimum) expected to go to Mass and take Communion on a weekly basis (more often during Lent) and serve Penance monthly.  My youthful observation that others didnt take that seriously didnt sit well with me but rather than leading by example, I walked away altogether. 

That being said...I still maintained a strong sense of spirituality that serves me till today.  Case in point:

I was 24 and at one of the lowest points in my life when I went hiking one night at sunset to the top of Camelback Mountain in Phoenix. I was two years out of college and had moved cross-country to work in the exciting world of politics. It's a long story but I lost that job after my boss was indicted on embezzlement charges and didnt think I had any other prospects. My first inclination was to run home to mom and dad.  I was all set to go, but I kept feeling this sense of failure.

I got to the top of the mountain and looked out over the Valley and the tears started flowing. I honestly didnt know what to do. I looked up at the sky, with the stars coming out, and said out loud "Lord, please help me. Please guide me to the right decision. I'm putting my life in your hands because I dont know what else to do."    It was getting late so I hiked back down the mountain and went home. The next morning I woke up feeling this strong sense of peace and the knowledge that I couldnt leave; I had to stay. Long story short, I went out and found myself gainful employment, and remained in Phoenix for three more years until leaving under my own steam. 

Since then, my Faith has seen me through....a fact not lost on me but one that I havent embraced until recently. 

At the suggestion of a friend, I have been reading scripture; specifically Proverbs.  I've started at 1 and am currently on 18.  It's taking me awhile to get through each one as I find myself thirsty for spiritual knowledge and reading them over and again so I can absorb as much of the meaning as possible.  In these days of personal "complications", I am finding comfort in the Word.  I am finding a sense of warmth and security I hadnt had before.  And I am finding my way Home. 

Closure Found

Further to my previous blog, I thought I would take a moment to document a fortunate episode that happened to me on a recent trip to London. 

About 7 years ago, I was in a relationship with R.  We were prepared for marriage and spending the rest of our lives together.  He was my first real love, and "adult relationship."  I loved him and he loved me.  We were compatible on so many different levels, and incompatible on others.  I let the latter get the best of me, and opted to wait on Ever After.  Unfortunately, that meant R - a citizen of the UK - would have to return to England after his US visa ran out.  We agreed it wouldnt be a long separation; he could still visit me, and I him, and within a year we would get it sorted so we could be together.  Alas, the physical distance between us quickly led to emotional distance and after a brief phone call one Saturday afternoon, we parted ways.  We reached out to each other on occasion, but as in many other similar scenarios we eventually stopped corresponding altogether.

R was never far from my mind though.  I thought of him often, and regarded him as the "one who got away."  It was during one of those "I wonder whatever happened to..." moments early one Spring morning that curiosity got the best of me and I sought out his Facebook page.  R was never a frequent social networker so it hadnt struck me as odd that I hadnt seen him online in awhile.  The first post I saw was from his friend, and left me in shock:

"Praying your soul rests in peace and our memories of you stay alive in our thoughts and hearts forever. You will be missed."

What??

No...it couldnt be!

I read on:

"I'm in shock and deeply saddened. You were a shining star in this world and will be missed by many."

"You will be missed dearly man. God Bless your soul"

"Rest in Peace"

He was...dead?  How could that happen?! 

Shock faded to tears and I immediately got up and called my sister.  She didnt know what to say; she hadnt seen or heard anything about R in 4 years...what could she say but "I'm sorry, Beth."

I needed answers...but he and I didnt have any mutual friends in common anymore.  I went through his Friends list and found a name I recognized as a family friend whom he had spoken of often.  I sent her a message, explaining who I was and asked her what had happened. to him  She responded almost immediately and explained that he had passed on due to some sort of infection.  She had more information she wanted to share with me over the phone, but we never did connect.  I just continued on...living my life, occasionally succumbing to moments of sadness, usually manifesting in a deep sigh and a temporary fleeting thought "I wonder what would have happened had we stayed together?  Would I be a widow?  Would he still be alive had I been around to take care of him?"  I'm smart enough to know his passing was not my fault, but still...I wondered.

Jump ahead two years to last month: I traveled to London to join my brother and his family on their vacation from Italy.  R's family friend saw mention of my trip on Facebook and asked if we could meet.  I said yes; that would be lovely. 

We went for lunch near Hampstead Heath - a quaint British pub that had a photo of the Queen Mum on the wall, pulling a pint.  We exchanged stories about R...how she came to know him and his family, and watched him grow from a young boy.  She shared with me about how he used to talk about me...how she knew he was quite fond of me.  And she mentioned how it seemed to her that after our split, he never seemed to find anyone else he could love as he loved me.

When I heard this, I didnt know what to think.  I was confused.  Should I feel guilty?  Should I have worked harder to make the relationship survive? 

Then I realized...this is what closure looks like.  This is an opportunity for me to finally close the chapter on that part of my life and to open myself up to other possibilities.  Of course, I've often felt I was open (reference prior blog) but I dont think I really was, which I realize in hindsight may explain some of my bad luck (and bad choices) with men. 

I came home from that trip feeling elated...feeling that finally I could seize whatever opportunity presented itself, and that maybe I can just own up to my feelings towards a certain someone.  Unfortunately, my timing was off and it was too late to have that conversation with him.  I was devastated, and am still upset about the situation, but what can I do? 

I believe in my heart that if God sees fit, he will set me on the path to finding another true love.  As they say, when the Lord closes one door, he opens another.  And I am anxiously waiting to walk through. 

Inconvenient One

"You're too good for me."

That's what he said. Immediately after declaring he was in love with me, he finished his thought with that bombshell. There was no "but" conjoining the two sentences; making them two separate - polar opposite - powerful statements.

I couldn't even begin to understand what he meant. But I knew this much was true: once again, I was hitting a brick wall at 100MPH.

Over the years, I've often wondered how much abuse one heart can take: how many times a heart can be broken and expected to heal. The scenario above isn't the most recent but it's one of the more poignant. I've heard everything; mostly ridiculous excuses from men who are too chicken shit to admit they aren't brave enough to take me on. I'm the inconvenient one. The one with the "good energy", "the big heart" or "the sharp mind"; but I'm never the pretty one, the one who gets the guy she wants. Someone actually said to me not long ago: "Only skinny girls get the guys they want." 

Ouch.

Let's face it...I will *never* be skinny. I don't want to be skinny. Skinny wouldn't look good on my larger frame. I'm descended from peasants and poor nobility; we don't do skinny in my family line (unless you are a fortunate recipient of the recessive "princess" gene, like my sister). In any event, admittedly, I could be in better shape and trust me...I'm trying to get there. But in the meantime, I look in the mirror and I don't see an ugly face. I don't see someone who isn't worthy of love (not that anyone is unworthy....everyone should have someone who loves them). I have a pretty good sense of style, Im smart and can maintain a witty banter. Why am I constantly left out in the cold?

The answer should be obvious but I'm still unwilling to accept it: I'm swimming in the wrong pool. The problem is the guys I like are younger, a little left of center and still care about having a good time and not rolling it up after sunset.  The only problem with those guys is they want the pretty girls who make them look good. Being older and more established, I may as well be walking around with a big "Danger" sign around my neck. If you want to be with me, you have to be willing to jump into the deep end of the pool. I'm ready to get married and have children. That can be repellent for some younger men who may not be in such a rush.
 

In the most recent scenario, I can only blame myself for my broken heart. It's not his fault. He didnt know. I was too scared to tell him because I cared for him too much and didnt want to risk losing him from my life. And now...even if I wanted to, it would be too late. He's found someone else, and she isnt me. She bears zero resemblance to me, and makes me think even entertaining for a nanosecond he would have ever reciprocated my feelings was just foolish and trivial on my part.  I want to channel the anger and resentment I feel right at him, but I can't.  It's all on me this time.  And that hurts more than anything.  Which begs the obvious question....what am I going to do about it? 

 

"Some may say, I'm wishing my days away"

 

That song is playing on the overhead right now.  Maybe that's true...wishing, hoping and praying that my ideal will come along and rescue me.  The truth is, if I cant rescue myself, what point is there to any of it?

 

And so the personal growth continues...

 

###

 

The song has ended and this one has taken its place:

 

"Someday. Someway. Maybe I'll understand you."

 

Yes, Self, maybe I will understand you someday.  Until then, let's just muddle through with a beat-up heart, shaky legs and fortitude strong enough to make it to tomorrow.  A brand new day indeed.

 

Circle of Trust

It’s early morning hours at work and I am here, my brain still sleepy waiting for the caffeine to kick in so I can attack my day full-force.  Carpe Diem and all that shite!   

I find my mind wandering and thinking back on a conversation I had yesterday with a colleague about the concept of the “Circle of Trust”: having a sufficient comfort level with the folks in your immediate circle to know that what you say or do within that circle stays there.  In my dayjob, the Circle of Trust is paramount to my work, as I have been given charge of some highly sensitive data.  It almost goes without saying (though people still do – ALL THE TIME), that what is discussed within the confines of a closed room must stay there. 

In my other life, it’s a little trickier.  I encounter people of varying degrees of professionalism and maturity, much of which depends on age and lifestyle.  I know that with my immediate colleagues, my trust level is high as they have an understanding of what can happen when certain bits of information filter out to the masses.  However there are others whom I work with directly or indirectly who still take the approach that some stories are just fodder for idle gossip even though it would be obvious to most others they shouldn’t be spread about.  I was recently burned by this very mindset: someone whom I thought I could trust flapped his gums about an incident involving myself and another person, and before I knew it the story was all over town and coming back to me in the most awkward way possible – via the other party. 

Not cool. 

But still…I gave pause and pondered the situation for what it was: the offending gossiper is young and inexperienced with a holdover schoolboy mentality where he speaks before he thinks.  So I gave him the benefit of the doubt and told him that he can say what he wants, but in the future he needs to be mindful of where his words go.  My only hope is that he will think twice the next time he wants to tell stories about people he knows.   Just like I now think twice about saying anything to him that has any remote chance of coming back to bite me in the arse.  At the end of the day, it was a win-win: valuable lessons learned all around!

The music community is small.  People know each other or at least have heard of each other.  There is a false sense of security in a business where the person next to you will step right over you to get to that next rung in the ladder.  But the higher you go, the further you fall and you might need a soft landing at some point.   Best not to piss anyone off in the process.  My .02.

Broken.

This blog post is going to get a little personal. I’ve been struggling with it the past few days...do I dare expose myself to this extent, and at what cost? Writing is supposed to be a cathartic and expressive process that allows the author to get what they are feeling down on paper and to leverage life experience for the sake of creativity. Much like a songwriter uses music and lyrics to express themselves and to cleanse themselves of pain, a writer uses words. It is for this reason that I made the decision to share this with you – my few, yet honored readers.



I recently had a conversation with a kind-hearted gentleman – a man of the Church, one who instantly puts strangers at ease with his delicate candor and jovial nature. I’m not exactly a stranger to this man as I’m friendly with his children, but even so – he doesn’t really know me from Eve. Yet somehow I found myself engaged in a conversation with him on a random Friday night about broken people: people who have a hard time figuring out where their place in the world is because they have been hurt and abused by life. I found myself admitting to this man that I didn’t think I would ever find the one to marry. He said to me (and I’m paraphrasing here) “Elizabeth, in a way everyone is broken. When you meet the right one, you will know and God will make it happen.”


Everyone is broken.


Now - I freely admit that I am broken. My heart shattered into a trillion pieces time and again, only to fuse itself back together, but weakened over the course of much heartache and disappointment. I could sit here and tick off the number of people who have wronged me over the years yet somehow that seems counterproductive. And I know there are other people out there who are just as broken, and even more broken than I am. I never once suffered at the hands of an abuser, nor has my life been anything less than blessed and fortunate. I know that my past experiences have – in a way – made me stronger and wiser and I really shouldn’t feel too sorry for myself. But it still isn’t easy. It’s downright difficult sometimes to get out of bed with a smile, to be optimistic and hope that one day I will meet that person who will not only love me for me, but who will appreciate and respect me as well. And someone who can make me stop looking over my shoulder to see who else is coming up from behind because my needs are not being met. So far, that person has eluded me. I thought I found him once, but that wasn’t meant to be and now he is gone forever.


True confession: I have feelings for someone. I won’t say who that someone is and he may never realize who he is for I’m too scared to tell him, nor do I think those feelings would ever be reciprocated. That’s what happens when you are broken: you don’t trust your own heart as it has betrayed you so often. You don’t trust your instincts. You become jaded and pessimistic. My only hope is that one day, I will meet someone that will enable me to overcome those fears, and heal my heart to wholeness again. I may be jaded, but I’m still a hopeless romantic.


Love and devotion all the way, you know?

A little dose of doubt before bed

12:50AM


Just got in from watching three of Seattle’s finest bands perform in one of the city’s best music venues. I knew half the people in that room tonight. I see them out at shows, at mixers, on Facebook. Together, we are working toward a common goal – that is to bring forth a change to the local music scene and put Seattle on the map as a true “City of Music”.

Sometimes it’s overwhelming. The people, the sounds, the egos. Times like now, where I come in late at night tired in body but alive in mind; I can’t settle in for my brain won’t let me until I get down what I am feeling. I feel like my universe is shifting somewhat. I’m moving away from a dreary corporate life, where I am simply a drone among many, to an existence that demands far greater emotional fortitude and wherewithal than I’ve ever been prepared to offer in the past.

Can I do this?

I suppose everyone has those moments where you wonder if you made the right decision…wonder if by raising your hand to volunteer for the mission was your best laid plan. Doubt is a natural emotion after all and there is no shame in feeling doubtful. Having said all that, I do suppose I am ready for this; I am ready to tackle the world and call it my own.

Yes, I can do this.