Thursday, June 12, 2014
Regret I can't shake:
1. Having my single-mom stress distract me from fully appreciating her. She's 28 now and I have the same fear of the world having it's hold on her as the day I left her in her kindergarten class. Back then, I picked her up 4 hours later and she was mine.
My face. Growing up, I was called "bongo lips" because of the obvious and I inherited the flaring nostrils of my father's Native American roots. I've heard stories of my possible tribal ancestry and I'm not certain of anything except that my great-grandfather's name was "Geronimo."
My spiritual and transformational work intellectually tells me how in the wisdom that comes from aging, I become more beautiful. My eyes search for that beauty in the subtle downward direction my skin has started to take, in my neck and breasts that have given life and love. Soft lens please.
In my adolescence, I learned not to compare myself to others, and as I age, that has served me well. My best friend had silky caramel hair that fell on thin shoulders, Bambi eyes and the graceful neck of a swan. My hair was thick and disobedient. My body was the same.
Many of my childhood friends are dealing with health issues now. I ache, knowing the many things they have yet to do. We all still think of ourselves as athletes on the volleyball team, cross country runners, cheerleaders.
I am grateful to have a kind man in my life. I didn't realize that I had a desire to be protected until the protector showed up. We are an unforeseen match, our flaws compensating, blending, creating wholly. Trust makes for fun, passion and intimacy. Laughter is served up all day, everyday. Sometimes he frustrates me. Often, I forget to do things for him that I said I would do. He listens.
I look back at the nights alone, thinking that my best days had passed. That the shards from the shatter of a divorce were actually me. It was the relationship that broke. I learned that I wasn't the relationship.
I sit typing in a messy apartment, looking at the Pacific Ocean. There's a "knowing" of myself and proficiency in creating what I want.
This time writing will make me rush to get ready for a coaching call. I get to cause breakthroughs for a woman who is climbing Half Dome for her 50th birthday. I can talk and she will listen until her journey is as phenomenal as the accomplishment. Until it's all a match for her beauty, vulnerability and power. This time writing will have me rush to my client meeting in Santa Barbara. Times like these, my face might show up squeaky clean, no time for make up, something I'd have never done when I was younger.
Today, I allow the wisdom and all of the confidence that comes with it to take the lead. I strive for the perfection of my birthday, when my older daughter, the foundation of "my first ever family of my very own," will be with me.