Safety and Love

I was 14 years old walking to meet my ride to school.   A sunny spring day and I was wearing a sweet baby blue dress with puffy short sleeves that my grandmother had designed and made for me. And on my feet, white Dr. Scholl Sandals, the wood bottomed slip on shoes that clacked when I walked.  I weighed all of 95 pounds and didn't even wear makeup.  It was 1971 and I cannot get the clarity of that day out of my head even now.  

Because there was no bus service to my parents home 3 miles from school, I walked a mile and a half to my friend's home to catch a ride, her brothers and sisters had a car to drive them all to school and there was a spot for me if I made it to their house by the time they left for school.  The first part of my walk was a half mile  that was more like a road through a tunnel of trees than a regular street. Then there were scattered houses and twisty climbing streets until I reached my friend's home. 

On that day as I entered the tunnel of trees part of the walk, there was a pale blue VW bug parked on the side of the road. I walked about 200 yards into the tunnel clacking my new  white Dr. Scholls on the road.  Then there were footsteps behind me, that was unusual I remember thinking. But being a shy small 14 year old, I kept walking.  Until the footsteps caught up to me and I heard a man's voice say "Do you have a match?"  I turned around to answer...the man had his pants down and was exposing himself to me. I turned to run and just like in every bad dream, it felt like my feet were in cement. I must have somehow managed to take some running steps because I can still feel how hard it was to run in those pretty white wood bottom sandals of mine.  I heard him start to run after me, and I ran as fast as I could manage although it felt like I wasn't moving fast at all.   Then his footsteps sounded farther away as for some reason he stopped chasing me and  ran the other way. 

I burst through the darkness of the tunnel of trees to where the scattered houses were.  He was gone.   I now know I was falling into some kind of shock mode and I stood by the driveway of a house shaking for what felt like hours.  And then because I didn't know what else to do. I finished my walk to my friend's home.  I got in the car like always and rode to school feeling like I was going to throw up.  I didn't say anything, I didn't know what to say and I hadn't fully processed it all.

When I got to school, I went to a couple of classes and then the tears began. I found my way to a pay phone and called my mom. Who called the police. And they came to school.  The police called me out of my class and walked me to the office in front of everyone.  Then they interviewed me. It was awkward and horribly embarrassing.  And not once did anyone offer any degree of comfort or anything I could grab onto as concern.  The police left me at school still reeling and on the verge of falling apart. I believe I confided in a couple of close friends but the rumors had already started swirling as the entire school saw two officers walk me through the campus.  I may have shared the details with people who weren't close friends but I was being asked over and over why the police had been with me.   And then older boys started looking at me in the hallway and I was asked over and over again "Do you have a match?" I suppose they thought it was funny. I supposed the Juniors and Seniors who asked me out on dates thought I was the kind of girl who had asked for this to happen.  I don't know. I had never even been kissed. I was beyond naïve and they wanted to take me out.....

I got a ride from my parents the next day to school, but the day after that I walked the tunnel of trees and every other day until my friend told her mom what had happened and that mom had her kids drive towards my house and they picked me up at the entrance to the tunnel of trees road.  Nobody really spoke of it afterward. Nobody including me. It wasn't how it was done back then. I felt unsafe and afraid every single day.  Nobody asked if I was okay, nobody told me I was safe or that it wasn't my fault.  I never wore that baby blue dress again and I certainly didn't wear  Dr. Scholls sandals.  Because you can't run in them.

I was terrorized and  afraid for my life because a man thought a 14 year old was someone to assault and  victimize on a dark deserted road when she walked to school.  I had pushed this memory down where it was hidden in the deepness and although it surfaced once in a while, I worked hard  to leave it hidden. I hadn't thought much about it lately until I started to run into words being thrown around lately about men who can take what they want from women.  My memory and how it felt to be at the mercy of a stranger who inflicted so much damage with his actions came shooting to the top of my consciousness. The minimizing of this kind of thinking and talking and behavior has shaken my sense of safety and calm.  Men joking about locker room talk or people saying that those who speak this way are just joking. It doesn't feel like joking, it feels like some people's true thoughts showing up.  It doesn't feel okay. It makes my stomach hurt to be honest.  

I am sharing my story now because I am compelled to speak out for anyone who feels minimized and afraid.  Silence isn't how we heal, silence isn't how we stand for what is good.  Pushing down a memory of assault and fear isn't how we go forward for it will always come back to be talked about and dealt with.  I believe it's time for us to stand for what we believe in, that we should gather strength to stand for what matters. Hold ourselves and others to a higher standard.  Find a way to connect so that we see the humanity in everyone. I'm just a girl writing a small blog, I don't have answers to what is waging right now. I know it feels unsafe and everyone seems to be on high alert.  For me, I'm going to do for others what my 14 year old self needed in 1971. I'm going to check in on people, I'm going to make sure we are okay and I'm going to make sure I'm okay. I'm going to protect those who need it, stand up for what needs to be stood up for and love the fear right out of the space I am in.  If you need someone to check in on you, ask for it. Don't stay silent, reach out.  Take care of yourself, take care of the people around you.  Give and receive compassion, listen more, rant less. Let your light shine bright so that it is a beacon of goodness.    Love deeper. LOVE more. LOVE ON.

With Love and Hope
Barbara

Don't get lost in your feels...

I struggle at times with feeling sad....I do. I fall into a rabbit hole that drops me from doing okay to not so much in a short time.  I'm emotional and I'm not good at  hiding it.  So there.  I've made a serious serious decision to fight this deep rabbit hole at every turn to be happy and live happy.  But sometimes I fail at that because what sends me tumbling down there, is feeling unloved and forgotten. I realize this is my own doing, yes I do. .   For how many years have we heard "you have to love yourself before anyone else can love you"  I mean really... when you suck at feeling loved, how on earth can you love yourself so that you are able to accept and give love.  That statement has  baffled me... for many years/FOR ALL MY LIFE!!!!  Seriously. I didn't get it.  

 And then I read this......  

"It was my life-like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred.  So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me.  How wild it was, to let it be"
Cheryl Strayed~ Wild~

Let me tell you, I had to stop and read that over and over and over, about 10 overs and it was a light bulb moment.   My life is sacred and belongs to me. Let it be......  Even as I type these words, I am in tears because this is the deal.  If my life is sacred, if I was made this way, wired like this with love and raw emotion...  Who am I not to love that, to love myself.  Why wouldn't I give to me what I want to give to the world and what I want back.   LIFE CHANGING stuff at least for my messy heart.   If I am sacred, so is everyone else.  We are all worthy of love....from ourselves first.   Okay...I need to breathe after that...take in what that feels like to write it down, say it out loud and believe it deep in my soul....

I love deep talks with my sons, I love their perspective and their truths.  I love their wisdom, trust me, the wise words that come from teenagers will break you wide open.  I was rolling around in some less than happy emotions this morning, a little lonely and on the verge of tears... and my oldest said to me.  "Mom, don't get lost in your feels, do something that makes you laugh and lighten up a bit. Trust the world and trust yourself."  This from a kid who has been let down, stumbled and struggled more than anyone I know... I do get lost in my feels ( I love that name for my over thinking emotions) I think it's easy to do, one thing leads to another and there you are, heading for that place that won't serve you at all.  Maybe if we walk away from our social media for a bit, go outside, face to the sun.  Or have lunch with a friend, exercise your heart out, call someone you love and have a chat..MAKE SOMETHING.  Maybe if we just don't get lost in our feels so very much, it will all seem a little less hard. Maybe if we throw that love around a bit more and open up our windows a bit wider, maybe that is how we stay out of the rabbit holes.  Maybe we just trust that we are not alone in all of this...maybe that's it.  Our sacred lives connected to other sacred lives....Well isn't that the magic?

"TOGETHER. WE CAN DO HARD THINGS BECAUSE WE BELONG TO EACH OTHER."

~Glennon Doyle Melton~

http://momastery.com/blog/

Don't get lost in your feels, love your sacred life and let it be, belong to each other.   I think that is some good love to throw around.  Especially on a Thursday..  Let's do it again soon! 

Love you like wildflowers

B

Where I am

"Don't let your mind get weary

And confused, your will be still, don't try

Don't let your heart get heavy child,

Inside you there's a strength that lies

Be here now, be here now""

~Ray LaMontagne~

It's been a difficult few years for my heart. I've traveled through some deep sadness, hopelessness and anger. Desperate and frantic to face, understand and speak my truth. Rising up to stand on shaky legs and figuring out how to walk and run on my own terms. At the same time fiercely defending my right to be who I am and do what I want, making sure this life counts in the way that makes sense to my tangled nature.

I had plans for myself, plans for my business, plans for where I would live. Big ginormous scary amazing plans...Big wish list and a lack of patience to wait for timing or financial security to back it all up. So then....I got even more angry, sad and hopeless. Darn it! I had done the work, faced the dragons, fought the battles and truly thought it was TIME FOR ME TO GO! So mad that I had worked so hard to face up to the stuff that was hard to admit, worked so hard to come to terms with it, worked so so so very hard. And then it seems....Life, God, the Universe had other plans . It wasn't time.

In the middle of it all, a move to a new home. Our landlord of 7 years gave us 2 months to leave for no good reason other than she wanted to upgrade the house and probably raise the rent. It felt like wayyyyy tooooo much...all of it... If you haven't searched for a place to live in a while, let me tell you, it's not fun. AT ALL.... But with a week to spare, I found a good place, location was good, house had good spaces and even a sewing room for me. The move happened which was again NOT FUN AT ALL...And yet I was oddly disconnected. And kind of angry. This wasn't the move I wanted for myself ...But here I was in this lovely home, with nooks and crannies for my pissed off spirit, places asking me to just be, yet I was still resisting it all. The holidays approaching and here I was trying to hold onto a position of "I need to go" when truly I was being called to settle in.

A week in this new house with blank walls calling and rooms ready to be filled with personal and pretty things, I sat down in my comfy chair and cried. I was resisting being one tiny bit happy because it felt like I had given up all I had worked so hard to understand. That I was selling out because I didn't move myself into that sweet apartment with a window and part time parent status. Because if I allowed myself to be happy here, I was not being true to the truths I had fought so hard for. And then.....I heard the words ringing in my heart and head..... "STOP BEING SAD"

I fought it all, the newness of the home, my children's happiness, the making it cozy and homey. It wasn't what I had wanted. I had visions of a tiny sweet apartment with a big window and freedom from my anger and resentment. I wanted peace and calm and quiet. But that didn't live in a tiny sweet apartment after all, it doesn't live in a tiny house, a big cabin or this house. It doesn't live in a place, it lives in a heart and a soul... DUH....the next big lesson. To be happy even when I wasn't happy. Let me say that again, lovely ones....To be happy even when I wasn't happy...

I have taken off my sadness and anger, just like that. All of that righteous indignation that I needed to get to here. All anger that wasn't my strength, my courage or my fierce determination but it was easy to confuse it as such. It was a fire that I needed to warm my hands so that I could find my way through the cold and dark. Like an itchy sweater, I took it off. And for the record, sadness and anger weigh a TON! and then... I settled in. Not just into this house, but into a schedule that is different than I had planned, into finding a way to communicate and negotiate with someone I didn't think I could do that with, into my life as it is right now. I settled in to me. Moment by moment being okay right here, right now. That's not selling out, that's finding my way.

The other night, I was in my comfy chair in the sweet little family room corner of the new house wrapped in a soft blanket with candle glow in the kitchen. In the other room my 18 year old had friends over playing video games in the living room and I was watching some TV. Peaceful and quiet. I felt it. The settling in, the thing I fought. Peace where I didn't think peace would be found. Strength in surrendering to where I find myself and being happy with that. My son's friends looked up and said "it's good to see you so happy, Mrs. Wiggins" and I said. "I Am"

I am always going to be a tangled restless girl, seeking the absolute truth like it's my treasure, my wild heart...my nature. But I'm getting some lessons in how to BE HERE and BE HAPPY that I did not expect. I sort of love surprises like that.

By the way I've missed this, the writing, you , sharing....all of it. I feel like I came home...

<3

B

The View from the Edge

The summer of 1973, I was 15 on the verge of 16 full of all kinds of teenage drama and angst. I had my first serious boyfriend and he was older, heading to college.  My parents brought him along on our annual summer backpack trip in an effort to keep me interested because truly the only thing I was interested in was him. And being kissed.  

Our trip that summer involved a 10 day camping and backpacking trip in and around Yosemite.  And the highlight was to be a night spent on the top of Half Dome.  I wasn't super excited because I was 15, almost 16 and I wanted to be anywhere but with my parents, family friends and a younger brother.  But because I was 15, I had no choice.  I honestly do not remember too much of that trip except like our other backpacking trips it was hard stuff. Because to get to the really great places you have to travel hard trails, walk loads of miles and it isn't always fun. (Can you see where I'm going with this story?).   So after 8 days of lots of hard stuff  with me rolling my eyes and kissing my boyfriend through some of the most beautiful back country anywhere, we hit the switchbacks that lead to the bottom of Half Dome.  8 days of hauling what I needed and some of what other people needed on my back, my 100 pound body carrying 35 pounds of stuff and I wasn't impressed at all with the steep and never ending switchbacks ahead of us in the afternoon sun.....at all. I was pretty pissed off at the ridiculousness of those switchbacks and in my defense, those things go on FOREVER.... At the top of the switchbacks we saw before us THE CABLES......

Awesome, more hard stuff although this held my interest because I loved to climb trees and things, I loved being up high in the sky and possibly more important, my mother is deathly afraid of heights and I wasn't.  I knew I could haul myself and all that stuff up the side of that rock and I did. My mom did in spite of her fears ( I never gave her the credit she deserved for all that, she was facing hard fears) and my brother did it by hanging onto the pack of our other male friend because he was too short to use the cables.  We all did it. And that alone should be an amazing story. But this is about what's at the top, the reason for the planning and hard work... At the top, you take off your pack of stuff and see how HUGE the top is. It's football field and more big....and then there is this...The view you cannot see from anywhere else in the world.   The view that feels like it's the whole world...

I mean really......even my 15 year old snotty high school girl self knew that this was a life changer. I let myself feel what it was like to have done something spectacular. I didn't think about my mom and one upping her, I didn't think about how much I hated these "family trips", I didn't think about my boyfriend and his kisses even though he was standing next to me. I for once let myself feel all my tangled and not cool self and I took in this crazy amazing moment...but then what I did next was where I found myself the most....

There is an outcropping on the top of Half Dome, a place where sheets of granite hang out over the edge of the face.  A place where there is so little under your feet and then nothing at all. Where the best views, the best air and the best of everything are found. On the edge of everything. A place where my breath was taken away, where I walked out and sat by myself and was totally okay with being 15 and awkward and unsure. Where I was suspended over everything and everything was mine. I could have stayed there forever letting the breeze cool my face. It felt like forever, it felt like everything..

Of course my mom with her deathly fear of heights about lost her mind with her only daughter sitting on the edge of nothing, hanging over the valley a bit precariously. So I came back to the safety of the football field size smooth rock top.  We unrolled sleeping bags and had a meager dinner of uncooked foods and a sip of brandy in our Sierra Cups which at that altitude and me being 15 went straight to my head. And slightly tipsy, I watched the full moon rise and light up the whole world. I made wishes on a million shooting stars and I looked down on all the campfires in the Valley below. All in a night spent on the top of Half Dome.   

I did sneak back to the outcropping a few more times before we climbed down the next morning. I hated to leave, wondered if ever I would experience anything so amazing as the edge of that rock...I wondered if I would ever feel that whole again. I wondered if ever I would feel like I fit in like that anywhere else. I wondered ifmaybe that was where I was leaving myself, on the outcropping looking down or instead I had found myself. Maybe both.

I returned to school to be a cheerleader, my boyfriend went away to college and dumped me and I resumed my slightly awkward but fun journey through school. But I knew that I was changed through the hard stuff, the switchbacks, the carrying of things, by the view from the top. For a moment, I wasn't just a girl at my school doing what looked like normal stuff, for  I had stood on the edge of the world and it was mine.  I held that knowledge and power in my heart for a while and then I put it away, not sure what to do with it.  .   

That summer, that trip came back to me in a dream the other day. I felt compelled to sort it out and figure out why after 42 years, I woke up in tears feeling once again changed but not quite sure why. It occurred to me that I've been doing the switchbacks for a good 5-6 years, personal switchbacks but switchbacks non-the-less.  The hard stuff, carrying what I need and what other people need on my back.  And I'm here at the base of the mountain with cables before me and I am good for the climb.  Because I need to stand on the edge and see what the world looks like again. Because I need to be suspended over nothing, over the world, see that view that you only see from the top, have my breath taken away and feel the power in my soul of all that. Remember that I am whole, that sometimes just leaning into the stuff that scares you most is when it gets super amazing and oh so real. Trust that the ground underneath will hold me. Go to  where I will feel the breeze cool my face and travel to where I am just me, a girl on the edge of everything.....

"I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center."

Kurt Vonnegut

Be Mighty

Barbara

p.s. these are not my photos. I found them by doing online searches of Half Dome and the Cables.  

I miss.......

I miss hugs

I miss my hand being held

I miss caring and being cared for

I miss being held and reaching out

I miss being part of something special and important

I miss the pat on my butt

I miss belonging

I miss kisses......

I love kisses, I love kissing. I love knowing there is someone who wants to kiss and be kissed. I miss quick pecks, I miss the long deep against the wall, I miss the in the car at a stoplight kisses, I miss the passing in the hallway kisses.  I miss them all.

I miss saying I love you, I miss hearing it, I miss feeling it... and I miss kisses and all they mean...

.......

<3 B

Rumble......

"We reckon with our emotions and get curious about what we’re feeling; we rumble with our stories until we get to a place of truth; and we live this process, every day, until it becomes a practice and creates nothing short of a revolution in our lives. Rising strong after a fall is how we cultivate wholeheartedness."  ~Brene Brown, Rising Strong
http://brenebrown.com/


I'm in the midst of something big...standing up....  I guess that doesn't sound so big, however it is the bravest thing I have ever done and  it feels huge.  I've spent a great deal of my life trying to build a place that keeps everyone happy and safe. I've taken care of people and I've nurtured dreams. Tolerated let downs with a smile and a story to protect those who do the letting down and kept the lights on in a broken place.  When my kids stumble and they do, I wrap my arms around them and fall with them, protecting them from the hard ground and cushioning the blows, harsh words and opinions of those who aren't looking out for their interest. I've lived in horrible run down unsafe houses but painted the walls and made white curtains to make them feel like home so everyone feels safe and loved. I've spent my life being and doing what is expected. Worked jobs and pursued a career that looked successful but I felt like a phony, going through the motions.  And in the process. I got lost.  I excused away the voice inside of me until I became a porcelain doll face with a frozen smile instead of the real girl, the messy, funny,  tangled, emotional, intuitive, longing, creative girl, the one that doesn't really fit in most places.  I declared myself to be one thing but knew deep I was selling out and being the very thing I was afraid of, broken and invisible.  Asking for nothing in return and pretending it was okay but truly getting a bit pissy about never being offered anything..just because I am here.  I built this little brick house but now I don't want to live in it. 

Don't get me wrong.  My kids, they are the world to me...just right the way they are.  I love them just like I want to, with my WHOLE HEART....And maybe it's the fact that they are grown or on their way to grown and they have left some big spaces empty in my world. Maybe I'm adjusting to what it feels like to be alone with myself and my truth.  Maybe it's my age and I'm not as inclined to be what everyone else is expecting or needs.  And I'm okay if they aren't okay with it.  Maybe I just want to fly a little bit and find out what fresh air in my face feels like.  Maybe I don't want anything less that what is absolutely real and authentic.  Maybe.....I just want to stand up, be seen and heard.  Maybe I just want to be me unapologetically.  Maybe I have learned to be compassionate and loving to me.  Maybe that makes me whole for the first time....

I can feel the ground swell underneath me.  I can feel the energy crackling off my fingertips, I can feel the fierceness of my heart as the rumble grows almost like the beat of a drum from down deep.  Every day a step or two taken in the direction I choose.  Looking at what is broken and crumbling and using it to build a future on or letting it go, whichever is the truest thing...It's personal and it's visible, this rumble of mine.  I spent a great deal of time crying and lamenting and wondering when I would understand the suffering and brokenness but never did I run from it, I stayed knowing it was important and it was.  At long last I do understand it.  I'm not forgetting or wishing away the harsh truths that I fought so hard to look at without blinders.  I'm gathering what the truths taught me as that is where the rumble came from......I am not afraid of the rumble as it is my story,  rather,  I think I will dance to it .. 

Be wildly you....

Barbara

Riding Dragons.

 "We're all afraid. We just have to get to the point where we understand it doesn't mean that we can't also be brave."

~Brene Brown~

I've been waking up at night a lot...actually for the past 4-5 years...And when I'm doing my best to put the drunken squirrel party in my brain back to sleep, the dragons show up.  You know the fears and worries of life, my dragons. At 2 am they are pretty big and scary. I wanted to run and hide and keep the dragons out of my house, out of my life. I didn't want to have them there because they are HUGE and frightening.  And they don't leave even if you cry and beg them to leave you alone. I've tried all that. Whining doesn't help with things that scare you. Trust me on that.....

As it turns out....the stuff the dragons brought are probably the very things I needed to face and stop running from ..... And I needed to find a way to make peace because sleep deprivation was not the way to get through life. I needed to turn around and face the dragons right in the eye.  It isn't easy for me to do all of that but seriously...I was too tired to live like that. Chronic exhaustion sucks. Chronic fear sucks more.

I decided to entertain the dragons..Welcome to my bedroom, have a seat and let's talk a bit.  Stop being scary and just let me get used to you so I can stop running..... And they did. With my heart beating and my brain screaming RUN!  I let the fears settle in and put them in an order I could deal with one at a time. As I loosened my grip they got a little less scary.  And my time spent wrestling with them in the middle of the night shortened. The less I fought, the easier the struggle became until it was just truths wanting to be heard and accepted.  

I started to eat better, exercise and that helped but mostly I just listened to the fears and told them we would be okay.  I stopped running from, fighting with and being afraid of the dragons.  I decided that all these things that scared me the most were the very things I needed to embrace.  I decided to stand strong, to be brave and to ride my dragons. To let them become part of my strength. To fly. 

And ride them I have. I'm not saying fear doesn't come creeping in at night anymore. It does, there are some big scary but amazingly honest things ahead, that is how life works. Big scary amazing things and I'm okay with that. I don't have all the answers and I never will, it takes a bit of faith, bravery and trusting your dragon to face what is coming your way.  Don't be afraid of what frightens you, don't fight dragons in the night, don't run from anything. Get some sleep, be brave and for goodness sake ride your dragon through the night sky.  

<3

Barbara

The Unraveling.....

It's been a while because there is so much in my heart and head, I didn't know where to start or what to say for a while. So I stayed a little quiet while I gathered my thoughts and did some sorting...I want to warn you...this is a personal one, more than usual.

For nearly 19 years I set my alarm for 30 minutes before his, so I could make breakfast and often a lunch and a cup of hot chocolate that he called "coffee".  I did this to show my appreciation for his hard work at a hard job in all kinds of hard weather and my appreciation for him....And I did it when there was no work and he had no place to go except in front of the TV.  I did it on weekends and holidays. I did it when things were good and I did it when things were horribly wrong. I did it when I questioned and was up all night in tears with confusion and ache.  And I did it when I had work to go to.  Breakfast and "coffee"....Until about a year  ago on a Saturday when I was getting ready for work and didn't have time and he had all day, I told him I couldn't make it on time if I didn't finish getting dressed. And as I headed to the bathroom to dry my hair...... I heard it down the hallway from the spot on the couch where he was watching TV.... "Lazy Bitch"..... and that was the start of the unraveling. When the fight to save this stopped.

 I'm not a "this isn't working for me" kind of girl, I do NOT give up easy on anything I feel is important and I take marriage very seriously. I don't throw around words I don't mean, words like divorce and leaving until and only until I mean it. 19 years of pushing aside what I know isn't okay and hoping that the stuff I believed in was enough to help us rise. I LOVED this man deeply and without a thought for what I knew was  the hard truths about our relationship and huge differences.  I loved him, fought for that love, shouted out about that love and wore it like a favorite tee shirt. I did this until I couldn't do it anymore. What I said and felt wasn't a lie, it was my everything and I was letting go like pushing off from a life raft in a storm.   In the depths of agonizing, it became clear that what I had identified as love was at times something totally different. Love simply cannot hurt so much of the time.    And there  was some horrible horrible stuff about me that I had to wade through (that was fun) until I realized I had to love myself to survive....to stop fighting the fight to save something I couldn't and didn't want to save. It was beyond hard to admit I had failed.  I carried the weight of my children and their happiness.  I carried the weight of how it looks to family and friends. I carried the weight of not loving any longer. I carried fears and lost hopes and good memories along with the bad ones. I carried the weight and I was drowning, I simply had to start to swim towards the light, back up to the fresh air and breathe again.... If that is selfish then call me selfish.  I've heard worse.

I am writing this post this morning after a very long night and day of no sleep and lots of tears, this stuff, the unraveling doesn't and SHOULDN'T come easy.  So now this... I also feel the need to address something..... As I have shared my stories about many things, with an open heart and tendency to share truth that are a bit prickly and not so pretty. Because I know I am NOT ALONE in my experiences and truths. I hope by speaking out and being real that connections and uplifting will happen. I am a story teller and that means the ugly stuff too (I'm so ready for the good stuff y'all).  This not so easy bit of life, I have tried to keep it extremely  authentic, sometimes that will bite you in the butt. I believe I have talked about my fears about how I will live, the financial part of all of this which is a very real concern and I'm being very careful to ensure that I have a plan in place so that I don't end up in my car on the streets. One of my posts were read by a young woman in my husband's office, I don't know her.  She had him read that particular post ( he has "NO INTEREST" and doesn't follow anything I do in my handmade business or with this blog and has never read any of my words before, good or bad) and together they surmised that I was asking for people to fund my "freedom".... This was thrown at me last night, that I was begging through my blog for money.... Let me be 100 percent  real with you.  I will never ever ask for or beg for money for ANYTHING...AT ALL.  I am a DIY, gritty, figure it out, make shit work, creative, resourceful girl and have managed to turn a box of old sheets into a business that I am super proud of and love dearly. That is what I believe in and that is what I expect to fund my life and provide for my family. Hard work and more hard work.  If ever anything has come across as a plea for you all to fund my "freedom", I want to make it completely clear that is not and never will be the case.   I have faith that money is money, it is much easier to find than happiness and peace. I have a plan to ensure that our needs are met and that's all I need to know. I will make it in this world because I can. I don't doubt that and in no way expect anyone but me to support myself and my kids, I truly wouldn't want it any other way.  I got this.....

So as I unravel this life I've known with this man amidst some very real sadness and loss,  I face an unknown, totally TERRIFYING yet hopeful and happy future at an age when an unknown future is probably more terrifying than I can tell you. But....for me, I think it's important to grab what you can that is good and right in life. To chase the best of things because your time here is precious, way too precious to be sad and live on a battlefield all of the time.  The ONLY thing I ask for is good wishes, prayers, kind words and some understanding. I appreciate the time you all take to read my stuff, I have so many good stories , I LOVE to write and share slices of life and what it looks like from here and I hope you stick around for the good stuff...it's coming my friends. I remain Barefoot and Tangled. I'm off to clean out another closet because there is a move coming.....I adore you all.

<3 Barbara

When Expecations Bite You in the A#$

I'm warning you now, this post may contain some cussing..... In fact I am sure it will and if you are offended, I totally understand but this post requires a bit of cussing to tell the story. And I'm here to tell some stories.

I'm not totally sure of where to start except I do need to apologize for being gone so very long.  I didn't mean to be but life sort of became a river of rolling rapids, one after another and just keeping afloat took everything....

Let's start with the show I did.   I love doing vintage shows but truly they take complete and total absorbing and immersing of the process.  Every moment is full of lists and making of things and display creation and that all starts with a BIG VISION!   I tend to think and dream in large scale and then get myself into a frenzy of trying to meet that vision. All by myself, one girl with no support team or anyone to help create this crazy big vision and usually no budget for the vision creating because well....nobody in my household supports the doing of shows and there is a whole lot of undermining and sabatoge going on especially with time for the vision making.  So I had a show scheduled for the first weekend in May, it's a big wonderful show and a couple of hours from home. I was excited to share a booth space (only half a vision was much easier than a whole vision) and set about starting in late March to do my show prep.   Well things happened/everything unraveled when an incident (next part of this story) happened in mid April.... But I reduced the vision and kept going. I made some AMAZING new items, was ready to debut my new Wild Daisy clothing and I was sure I would KILL IT as my kids say..... I loaded my stuff into the truck , drove myself west for a couple of hours, set up my space myself and was feeling pretty spiffy with myself the day before the show. I just KNEW I was going to sell everything and could bask in the glow of what a big success I was....The show opened and people poured in to the venue and the energy was amazing.....and I stood there ready to talk to people, meet them and sell all the wonderful new things I made. I'll keep it short, sales were dismal. The first day I sold 3 of my wonderful new things and some last minute fillers I had grabbed when packing. I didn't even make my booth fee.  But, there was still Sunday and I was sure it would go better. It didn't. I woke up Sunday with what I knew was a horrible stomach flu, I had a show to do all day and then a long 2 hour drive home and I was not good. An hour into Sunday, I fled the scene.  My darling booth mate sold my goods and packed up my stuff and my lovely business friends  from my area loaded my crap and displays their trailer and brought it home.  I drove away defeated, fighting a fever and in tears.  Heading home to admit failure to the very people who predicted and expected my failure. I had expected to do well, that my goods would be well received, sell out and I would come home with some dollars in my pockets...Expectations...bit me in the ass and I was crushed..I barely covered my expenses which was hard but worse, I was called a failure and I may have even done a little shaming of my own self. 

So this all happened the wake of another crushing expectation shattered event.  My son as I've shared, is about to graduate from high school. He attends a big school with big expectations of the kids. There is no room for making mistakes and he made one of those stupid teenage mistakes that because there is Zero Tolerance in our district, that mistake cost him everything. He was sent to a continuation high school, is no longer allowed on his old school campus, didn't go to prom, didn't go to Grad Night, wasn't able to be a part of the All League Football awards or photos and most devastating of all, will not walk at graduation with his class.  One quick stupid decision and his status as big guy on campus was revoked and everything as he knew it was gone.  And then all the people he thought and I thought were in his corner said "oh wow, I'm so sorry"...and then silently took 5 steps back and turned away.  My boy who was king of the school, king of his world   one day and the kid nobody wanted to know the next.  All that wonderful stuff he was looking forward to and admittedly so was I...gone along with the expectation of how it was going to be. 7 years in this district talking about the day he would graduate in the stadium and counting the days til we put on that royal blue cap and gown to take pictures with his friends and listen to the band play the fight song and the entire crowd and graduating class sing the Alma Mater.... All of that gone in an instant.    Expectations had a tight grip on us and even though the mom in me kept assuring him that he would be okay and that he was not a bad person, I admit I cried hard in the shower for a week...I was heartbroken over losing all these things that felt were so so so important to his appearance of success and perfection. The stuff that everyone else could brag about. And I was a bit pissed off because I wanted to take those pictures with him and celebrate at the big ceremony in the stadium.  

So shit....all of this expectation crushing stuff at once had to be some sort of lesson and oh boy it was.... I realized that for all my tangled and messy nature, I have a death grip on expectations (can you say AVOIDANCE) because there is stuff in every day that kind of suck. Maybe because there are things in my world that drag my heart down and I pin all my good thoughts and hopes on events and happenings instead of just being okay in this moment.  Maybe because I invest too much in what I want to happen instead of just taking life as it comes and knowing that it will in the end be okay. I don't know but this certainly has made me re-evaluate how I approach things.  Maybe projecting forward keeps me from really being in the moment when the moment seems too much.

We had to do a whole lot of meetings with people after the school event as you can't make a kid leave a school without a process.  But luckily for us the last person we met with was Hank's new counselor.... And if expectations kicked our asses hard , this woman  was the truth and bright light we needed....she waded through the shame we had wrapped ourselves in and forced us to let go of what we thought was going to happen and embrace what was our new reality.   A school of kids who all needed a little redemption, 6 weeks to get through and then as she told us, a diploma that looks like everyone else. A more intimate and probably meaningful graduation and OH what a story my kid will have.  His future college football coach assured him that people do indeed make mistakes and it was time to move on and learn something and come play football.  And soon what felt like the end of the world will just be something that happened. Let go of the expectations because that was then, let's stay in now and take this new path for what it is...Let go of the expectations because they don't serve you well.  

I'm pretty sure I am not the same girl I was a few months ago, I still have a plan and big visions of what I am working for but I am certainly a whole lot less inclined to trust those darned expectations the way I used to. I don't let myself live in "the way it will be" anymore. And guess what?   I don't miss that shit at all.   What I trust is what I see and experience but not what I'm trying to make be the truth.  What I do know is life holds oh so many twists and turns and being a bit unruly and unsure is totally okay. We get up, tackle the hard stuff, embrace the curves , let loose of the grip just a teeny bit, throw our hands in the air and feel the wind on our faces.  I listed my stuff on Etsy and it sold in hours.  I'll do another vintage show in 6 months, but will not let sales dictate how I feel about myself or what I do. My son will graduate in 2 weeks and I'll take pictures with him in his cap and gown, smiling as big as if it was in that giant stadium with fireworks. We have not failed, we have grown, that kid and I, knowing that expectations will kick your ass if you let them. But I will not again let that happen, because I know life holds lots of amazing surprises and if I am so busy looking at the photo album of expectation, I may just miss some shooting stars .

“it is a serious thing // just to be alive //on this fresh morning // in this broken world.” 
― Mary Oliver

Love wins

Barbara

This is my story

“Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage.” 
― Brené Brown

When I started this blog, I had a choice....I could write about the surface stuff like how my business is doing or the shiny version, the one with the pulled together outfits, clean house, I'm so awesome in everything I do kind of stories. You know the version that makes other people think I'm something I'm not.  I decided that if I was going to do this blog thing, I needed to do it on my terms, with my story being woven through the shiny stuff.  I could have just told you all funny mom stories or talked about what is easy to talk about but I'm not that kind of girl. I have an intense need to be authentic and tangled because I'm sort of over doing what I should, saying what others are comfortable with and trying to be something I'm not. I'm a girl with a story and it's not always pretty, but it is real and it is me.

Trying to figure out where to draw the line about what to share and what not to let out of my heart, I'm not sure can do that. So I speak and write my truth. My story. We all have them and we should tell about them, at least that is what I believe.  It's not easy to unmask ourselves and show the grit along with the good stuff. I think they go hand in hand and I think that nobody has it 100 percent together. I don't think we need to. And in the telling and listening of stories, I truly believe we should respect and honor the authentic, raw stuff that we are handed by others. I just do.

Recently, a blog post was  read to  someone who doesn't respect or care for who I am and has no respect for what I have to say. And then my words were twisted and thrown back at me like a weapon. I got scared and defensive and found the unbrave girl in me scrambling for cover and wishing I hadn't said anything that was real and offensive to the word thrower. And I took the cowards way out, I deleted a few blog posts.  And as I write that last sentence, my heart actually feels like it's breaking because I let myself down. I betrayed my promise to myself to live with my truth and vulnerability shamelessly. Because I got scared. After the brave acts of sharing my truth here in a public way, I stopped trusting myself because one person shamed me about speaking my mind.  Dude...this so isn't the way I mean to be.....

So first of all I'm sorry I wimped out and deleted my posts. I regret it because I can't get them back and I was proud of those posts. They were the most difficult and raw things I have ever written and I thought they were beautiful. Words flowed in a way they don't often flow... that part of the story telling was  magical and hard.

Second of all, I won't get scared again. 

Third of all....I do have a pretty life, there are wonderful, amazing things going on, woven into my story which happens at this moment to include some things that aren't so pretty. But that is where clarity and joy are found. Underneath the worry that people don't want to hear your story down where the truth is. Under the shame and fear are beautiful things. I won't keep them hidden.  This isn't about the person who turned my story on me, this is about me staying brave and true. This is about the fact that I get to tell it the way I see it. Tangled truth..this is my life, this is my story.

By the way I heart Brene Brown.... http://brenebrown.com/my-blog/

Love wins
Barbara

Bits and pieces

I do love to write and post here. Truly, I wish I could find a way to write and make enough money so that I would never have to wonder how I would buy groceries or find a place to live ever again. Because I would have enough money for my simple little life and it would happen while doing what I love to do. Make things, live life in a happy place and tell stories. But that isn't how it is right now (I'm not giving up on that sweet  thought) and my daily life comes at me so daily and I don't make time to post like I should...That's not to say I don't have stuff to say, I just haven't made the time and I sort of feel like it's not sensational enough. Just regular stuff. So I decided to just gather a few of the things on my mind and do a post. Seems better than not posting at all. So in no particular order here are the things I've been thinking about.

1.  Hank picked a college...After a couple of official recruiting visits he picked Ventura College. A gorgeous Junior College in Ventura California and let me tell you all, it's a stunning setting... The football field looks out at the ocean and the Channel Islands and the coaches were really great to talk with and super excited to have him. The academic support is great. I think he knew in 10 minutes this was the right place for him. I will be doing a longer post on the road to college choices and athletics and why for my son a Junior College was a perfect fit. Plus he is close and I get to watch him play and visit him (not too often I promise).  More about all of this later.  By the way, they put this jersey on him with his high school number. #4.... at that moment it all got super real. The growing up and going to college and leaving...all of it...pride and tears, relief and a mom heart that cracked in half although I didn't tell him that...

2. It's a bit crazy busy for my sweet little kitchen table business right now. Wildflower 57 will be returning to Three Speckled Hens in Paso Robles, CA May 2 and 3. " The Three Speckled Hens Show has been ranked as one of the nation's top antique shows in publications such as Flea Market Style, Flea Market Decor and Romantic Homes."  http://www.threespeckledhens.com/  
I have done the show before but it's been a couple of years because of scheduling issues. But I'm super happy to be going home.  Seriously, if you can get there, I recommend it, not just so you can come say hi to me but so that you can see all the AH MAZE ING vendors and their over the top setups and displays.  I'm sewing every spare moment to bring new products. Of course it's not easy to stay focused on creating 20-40 of something when the squirrel party in my head is throwing ideas around day and night. I haven't started the panic state yet but I do admit that even early show prep work is a little chaotic and fun.  I love the beat of my heart as I figure out what my "look" for the show will be and I'm super happy to be sharing a space with the inspiring and gorgeous Polly fromhttp://polly-janes.com/  I can tell you that I'm just all about Pretty...that's my look, pretty. Lots of florals and pretty color. Doing a little bit of furniture redos and I'll have a sneak peek on that soon too.  Quilts, bags, aprons, accessories and housewares galore. And clothing...I'm working hard to make my Wild Daisy collection of  clothing debut at that time.  more pretty... 

3.  So I took my mom to the Quilting in the Pines Retreat weekend put on by my lovely employers at http://quilters-paradise.com/ .  4 days away from real life spent sewing all day long and enjoying the gorgeousness of Bass Lake California. I'll post more about that too. (OMG I keep saying I'll write about it later. talk about procrastination)..Here is a picture of my cute mom and I and one of our work table with wine, jellybeans and zipper pouches (Three Speckled Hen's here they come) . Believe it or not, we got lots of great sewing done...we also ate and laughed a lot. 

4. And lastly, I just want to touch on how the healthy life stuff is going.  It's going...results are slow it seems but I have admittedly not been as diligent with my eating and it's showing. I'm still losing about 2 pounds a week, I still am moving my body more and I'm still feeling better. I could be doing better, but I really really feel this isn't a race, it's change and health and  brave acts  all going on at the same time and patience is key.....  My personal stuff is still hard, I have amazing days and really sucky days, part of the deal I know. But I work really hard to operate from an open and happy place, to find joy when it really would be super easy to wallow. And sometimes I wallow but only for a few moments and for me that is a victory. Healthy life is healthy inside too and I know that I am asking a lot of myself to tackle so much all at once, but then I sort of love the challenge. Like these hills I did while at Quilt Camp. They were hard, they hurt, a lot.... but it felt like such a personal victory to haul my body up and down this hill twice each morning. I love the feeling of sore muscles, it tells me I am making progress. I am learning to love the feeling of standing tall in support of myself when my heart is hurting, I know that is progress too...And yes ..I will write about all of this more later. I promise because you know how much I love to tell stories and share truths. But for today, some bits and pieces because I am in show mode and the squirrels are screaming my name...

Oh ....I wanted to show you my new shirt. A teeny reward for a good month of brave acts and because I love it. Giraffes on a tee. I got it from my friend Laura at   https://www.facebook.com/Lularoe2Me and it made me ridiculously happy. Soft clothing, treats once a month and loving every step of this road. And a little sass... we all need some sass.

Until I can think in longer sentences and write more about all the stuff I want to tell you, I am off to sew and make things. I can't wait to show you the pretty for the show and tell you more stories. I love you all like a tee with giraffes on it.

<3 Barbara

Love and Strength

WARNING...I'm going to talk about some body parts....

Back in August I saw a horrible picture of myself that made me cringe.....okay I'm totally lying, it made me cry. And cry hard for a couple of hours and again when I looked at it the next day. In addition to a haircut gone wrong (blame that on a Pinterest picture of a skinny model with an insanely cute haircut), I was unable to slip on my son's football jersey for the annual Parent Night. Because I was too curvy which is my soul saving way of saying, I am overweight.  I had spent a great deal of time convincing myself that it was okay and I was accepting of all the curviness and it didn't change who I was.  I'm here to say, it does change who I am. I don't shop for clothes (the dreaded dressing room mirror situation) I don't like to go out because I can't seem to find anything I love to wear to dress up in. And I couldn't bend over to tie my shoes..There I said it..I couldn't tie my own damned shoes and that wasn't okay...I could tell you all the stories I told myself about how I was indeed healthy and it was a metabolism thing, a menopause thing, a having 2 babies after 40 thing. I could tell you stories about half hearted efforts and failed plans of mine but really who wants to talk about all of that.

But I do want to talk about making peace and making plans...With where I am starting from, with the process and yes. with my body...My fat body....I didn't know how to do that except the way I am tackling all hard things these days...with honesty. So.....another warning...I'm going to talk about body parts a little bit, I'll be gentle but here goes.

I got naked...and I looked in the mirror...at all of that curviness.  And I cried, a lot...but I didn't leave the mirror or cover up. I cried until I couldn't cry any longer and then I made myself tell myself some loving things. Not easy to do when all I felt was shame and embarrassment and confusion. Like how did my body and I get here. So all I could come up with that was loving is..."you have great hair", "your eyes still sparkle" and "the best part about being this big is you have good boobs"....(I warned you, body parts).  And I'd love to say there was instant acceptance and the shame disappeared, but that isn't the truth. I didn't feel much better, in fact I felt a little worse having spent all that time with a body I couldn't love.  So I did it again the next day, and the next and the next...Every day after my shower I gave my body some love.  But I didn't leave it there because nothing changes unless you change something. You want something, you have to do something to get it. End of story.

I wanted to be strong. So I started doing squats, 5 the first day, 10 the next, 15 the next and so on. I added in jumping jacks, push ups and other floor exercises twice a day. Then I added in some weight stuff for my arms. All done in 15-20 minute sessions at home before I went out for the day and before bed at night. I moved more, stretched more and my body responded.

I changed my eating. I'll write a post about that sometime soon but I started with the Whole30 challenge on January 2 (http://whole30.com/)..  No grain, No Dairy, No sugar.  Just like that. I read some blogs, gathered information and jumped in.  I ate better. And my body responded.

And this is me now. 14 pounds lighter, sleeping better, more energy. I feel better but more importantly I feel stronger and I am working towards something I want. And isn't that really the deal. Don't complain, do something. Don't cry, do something. Be patient, stay the course, don't give up, believe in the change.

And now after my shower, I talk to my naked body with less shame and more admiration. I also give my body some love with a handful of warm oil that I rub on my damp skin every morning. I can feel the shrinking and tightening of my thighs, my butt, my hips, my arms and yes my boobs (they are always the first to go, am I right?) I can see my body responding to the way I am treating it, the way I am treating myself. We have a long way to go my body and I . Patience has never been a strong trait of mine but I'm making friends with patience. I know health is coming because I am doing what I need to in order to be healthy and oh how I love it. I love how it feels, I celebrate each new day because I can see and feel progress and results. And I'm learning that as I get a little stronger and more healthy in one  part of my life, I am stronger in other parts of my life.  I love how I feel even when I look at my curves, I am able to love them too and be gentle with them.  I am friends with my heart, I am friends with my soul and I am friends with my body. We will negotiate this adventure with strength and love, not shame . Just love and strength.....

<3 Barbara