“Breathing in, I calm body and mind. Breathing out, I smile. Dwelling in the present moment I know this is the only moment.”

― Thich Nhat Hanh, Being Peace

Writing here has felt self-indulgent lately. It’s not necessarily helpful to others for me to write about pain here, but rather, it burdens them. I don’t want to bring down the few precious people who read this blog. My words, however insignificant, are putting something, en energy, out into the world. So I’ve been thinking: what is the point of writing here? It is self-serving and indulgent? What if I could just let it all go?

Certainly I’ve been to that place before and stopped writing here. Right now it serves as a safe place to process and be heard. A safe place to put the chaos and turbulence I’ve been feeling for a while, and I hope to send out a more positive and affirming vibe again when it comes back to me.

That brings me to where I’m trying to go: to a place of unconditional love. That’s where I really want to be. A place where I forgive everyone and myself; a place where I love everyone and myself–no matter what. No matter what.

For a long time, I’ve worked on healing my heart, forgiving, and loving people and things as they are. Forgiving is easier than forgetting. What is most difficult is to forget.

Learning who I am and who I am on this earth to be–that has apparently been my lifelong assignment. Whether I really know who I am or why I am here yet, even after 41 years, I am not sure. I do believe that everything I’ve experienced is for a reason and it’s a part of my soul’s purpose here. The challenge has been great; too great, at times. It’s been, at times, overwhelming to the point where I’ve wanted to let go of this life. My life, I feel, has been heavy, painful, sorrowful. That’s not to say it has not had great joy, too, because it has. There has been great joy, too. The joy is what keeps me going. It provides just enough juice to get through the next hurdle.

And, maybe this is just what life is: a mix of everything. The goal is to embrace that.

Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy. 

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive, 
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, 
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

About this prayer, copied and pasted from Wikipedia:

The anonymous text that is usually called the Prayer of Saint Francis (or Peace Prayer, or Simple Prayer for Peace, or Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace) is a widely known Christian prayer for peace. Often associated with the Italian Saint Francis of Assisi (c. 1182 – 1226), but entirely absent from his writings, the prayer in its present form has not been traced back further than 1912.^[1] Its first known occurrence was in French, in a small spiritual magazine called La Clochette (The Little Bell), published by a Catholic Church organization in Paris named La Ligue de la Sainte-Messe (The League of the Holy Mass). The author’s name was not given, although it may have been the founder of La Ligue, Father Esther Bouquerel. The prayer was heavily publicized during both World War I and World War II.^[2] It has been frequently set to music by notable songwriters and quoted by prominent leaders, and its broadly inclusive language has found appeal with diverse faiths encouraging service to others.^[1][3][4]

1. ^ Manning, Kathleen (2017). “What do we know about St. Francis, America’s most popular saint?”. U.S. Catholic. Retrieved 4 May 2018.
2. ^ Renoux 2001, pp. 21, 27–28.
3. ^ Jump up to: ^{a b c d e f} Piccuci, Egidio (19–20 January 2009). “Le origini del testo attribuito a san Francesco d’Assisi: L’Osservatore Romano e la vera storia della Preghiera semplice”. L’Osservatore Romano (in Italian). p. 6.
4.  Piccuci, Egidio (19–20 January 2009). “Le origini del testo attribuito a san Francesco d’Assisi: L’Osservatore Romano e la vera storia della Preghiera semplice”. L’Osservatore Romano (in Italian). p. 6.

Along with the other resolutions posted the other day, some other ones have crept in. These are letting go and surrendering to life, and ultimately, surrendering to God.

This means letting go of my need to control everything, and the belief that I even can control everything. Because, I can’t. I control nothing.

Surrender. Letting go.

As a result of this intention, I woke up Saturday morning and asked Alan to go with me on an overnight trip to Eau Claire, Wisconsin, where we met and lived as newlyweds. A getaway for just the two of us, for just the second time in our life as parents. He said “yes”, so we dropped everything and left. Mia, Anna, and Penny were in the loving care of Alan’s parents.

We didn’t take many pictures, but here is one from the beginning of our adventure. The joy on our faces is real. The trip was absolutely rejuvenating.

The above photo is taken from the inside of Acoustic Cafe in downtown Eau Claire. The white building kitty corner across the street was the building we lived in when we were first married. We had the three top windows on the right on the front side of the building.

Drinking coffee inside the cafe, I sort of went into a trance and back in time to when we lived in that little apartment across the street and who I was back then.

Twenty-two years old, newly married, working as a nursing assistant at a nursing home down the street. Young, naive. Also good at heart, well-intentioned, doing my best, responsible, hard-working, loving, sensitive, kindhearted.

Looking out that window, my heart overflowed with compassion for my former self, the self that lived in that little apartment and did the best with what she had.

I cried.

I am still that person, still of the same essence. I was never good enough for myself. Not then, not afterward. In that moment, I realized that maybe I’ve been good enough all along. Good enough for me, good enough for Alan, good enough for my parents, good enough for everyone, good enough for God.

Can I have that compassion for my present self? Can I let go of those judgments against myself and let myself be good enough?

I can.

As a part of the ongoing inner work and also re-joining Facebook, I’ve realized more fully that there are a lot of addictive tendencies I experience from day to day. My endless struggle seems to be maintaining focus and staying on the straight and narrow path. To me, this path is taking care of my health, my family, and doing the spiritual work. I get sucked into negative thinking, paranoid thoughts, eating impulsively, not exercising, and checking my phone endlessly. I feel frustrated with myself. I feel like I have ADHD. The underlying cause of the addictions seem to be a sense of entitlement that I’m not letting go of. There is a desire to escape discomfort. And, there is the general feeling of emotional and physical fatigue that has been around for a while.

While the inner turmoil has been somewhat better recently, I continue to experience this sense of feeling lost and directionless. The visual metaphor I have in my mind is that I’m walking at night through a small town on cobblestone streets. The town is asleep, with only street lights turned on. I’m cold and it’s raining ice cold rain, and I’m covering up with a rain coat. I just keep walking and walking but don’t know where I’m headed. Despite this, there is still a sense of safety and security and that there are people in the houses that I can turn to if I need them. My astrology predictions say I’ll feel this way until 2021, so I’d better get comfortable with this.

What I’m very drawn to right now are spirituality and especially Christianity. Maybe because of Christmas, maybe because it’s just my path right now. I have been listening to Christian music and watching Jesus videos. And, I’ve enjoyed it a great deal and feel that it nourishes my soul. Over Christmas we went to a traditional church service at Mount Olivet Lutheran Church and I enjoyed it greatly. We also went to Alan’s church on Christmas day, which was not enjoyable in the religious sense but it was enjoyable because we saw many special people I haven’t seen in a while. I think that since leaving Alan’s church, I’ve been uncertain of where I stand and what I need in terms of religion and spirituality. Maybe I’m in a place now where it feels safe to explore and find my own meaning in these things.