cue the jazz hands

I recently read an interesting blog about people who experience cancer personally.  It was something I hadn't really thought about.  The basic premise of the article is that cancer has a secret that we don't talk about- people leave you.

The author, Kerri K. Morris, states in her blog titled "Cancer's dirty little secret: people turn their backs on you" that "As I get to know more and more people in the cancer community, one of the most common stories I hear from them is abandonment. It;s our dirty little secret, the one we keep from you."(March 18,2016)

It transcends cancer....catastrophe in all it's forms sends people running from you.  Whether its "oh this makes me sad" or this person may be needy or an indignant "well, I'm busy and  I have problems, too" there is a nearly  universal flee to the closest exit from grief, illness, flood, fire, mental  or financial difficulties.

Theres the if there's anything I can do friends....followed by nothing. Ever. Except maybe a followup...Let me know if there's...Cue the jazz hands! These ones make me smile. Its a wry smile because in my heart, I know they have no intention. They are done in the saying or they would be there, doing. Most have never spent a second near you that they didn't have to and don't plan on starting now.

The veiled eyes friends...Just. Don't. Make. Eye. Contact.  Stares at phone!!! Such interesting wallpaper.  When my husband died, I had a friend who crossed the street the first time she saw me again.  The comedian in me, momentarily thought about running after, fully expecting to see the keystone cop fastwalk start until she found her car. But I refrained. Besides, I had no energy for that. Haven't talked to her since and that's her call.

There's also the Imma- make- this- about- me- friends."Oh, you are stressing me...your horrible thing has touched my life now! Oh how can this world foist this on me yet again? Cue the facebook post on how sad and stressed They are and a gossipy post about how sad your life is to them. On behalf of everyone who has had a third party social media diatribe about how sad someone is for them without their consent: I truly would like to thank the Internets. And please my friends, it is  Rest In Peace. Not RIP. No one ever got carpal tunnel from 8 extra letters showing a little respect.

I get very quickly annoyed with the' Can I send you cash instead of you talking, Please?' friends. Yeah I get it. Sometimes, the stressed need to talk. It is so very, very difficult for you the listener.  I know. How do you live? I mean, yep, we are stressed but we feel your displeasure and desperation to get away. Laughably, usually the very sick or the very sad person in front of you is editing out 95% of the gory truth. Ending the talk long before they say what's on their mind because you are so dang clear how incredibly difficult this problem they own and deal with daily is for you to merely hear about.

Which is also what you get from a lot of people who beg you to talk. Simply plead and argue about how you need to get it out until....you realize you have got a Chernobyl friend. Suddenly ready to melt down if you say anything they don't want to hear. "Please talk to me...please, I know you need to!!!  Wait!  What?  Too much,too much, too much, suck it up! Gawd, just deal with it already, go away!"

I was raised by people in my teen years who did not fall into any of these categories.  Somebody hurt? Visit. Grieving? Visit. Accident? visit. Troubles of any and all kinds were met with hours of time, casseroles and pies in hand and with open ears-not mouths.

I never once heard Mabel say," Oh, we'll get together sometime. You have my number?" or " So sorry, Let me know if there's anything I can do."   It just wasn't in her to take a person, in the middle of the worst stress and make them come begging for help or worse leave them hanging with an empty promise.

She didn't worry about overstepping or being judged for doing.  She just went. Stayed.  Went back again.  If the house was a disaster she quietly fixed it. If the kids needed attention too; well she brought me or her husband or another sibling. She didn't shout to others about it. Although, I was often met after the school bus with "Go get dressed nice, W's wife died- you are carrying this pie plate, and I want you to sing that nice song he likes while were there."

Not just for friends, but for  anyone in her wide circle, she was there, she cared, a true Earth Angel of a person. School was hard? Homework? Tired?" So what! Get in the car! So and so is in the nursing home with no visitors!  Hurry, wash your hands, be pleasant."  It was a lesson I'll always appreciate. A living example of how to care.

She's 99 now, still doing all she can. Despite raising her own children and many other's, multiple heart attacks, skin cancer, breast cancer, the loss of her husband and falls.  My excuse is invalid.  So is yours.

Right now, I am pretty lucky to have two listeners. Real solid, hey, I'm here for you night and day ones: more earth angels. Rare as unicorn farts in this world.  I hope I can someday stand in the breach between stressed and overwhelmed for them as well as they do for me. They talk me off ledges and they don't even really know it. It seems to me, that the true Earth Angels I find are just as busy and stressed and face as much life as anyone-they just have actual empathy. A heart.

When I had my daughter, I met another Earth Angel. She was someone I had hardly ever noticed in my neighbourhood.  Now having a beautiful baby is hardly a tragedy.  But my neighbor, seeing me come home from hospital timidly knocked on my door- with a fully cooked meal.  She said,"Hey, I only know you to see you, but, here's a list of 6 other neighbors. Don't worry about dinner this week between myself and these other neighbours you will be meeting, we have it covered."  What a gift.  A gift I've never forgotten almost 30 years later.

There are tangible ways to help in all situations.  It might surprise some to know that with their very own eyes they can see them and just do it. We don't need to add layers of hurt to people with gossip, false concern, platitudes and ignorance. A simple card, a shared meal and an ear. Our time. A real body sitting with real body instead of Hugs! from somewhere online. A couple hours of babysitting. A walk with someone. Taking care of a pet. Laundry. 12 cookies.Yes, some will never get the joy it is to actually, for reals, care.  To get the heck off the couch and just do for someone else.

It might just be the reason we are here. There really is a greater satisfaction in live human interaction than spending our precious years holed up with popcorn, netfix and a tablet.  What a lonely world it would be without Earth Angels.

Jeepers Crisp!!! @#$@@#!!$#@ For the love of all things holy......

I have nothing to say.

Shocking, I know right?

So that must mean that there isn't a thing bothering me, I see no imbalance in my life, or injustice in the world.  Nothing to say must be a good thing?

Well, no.

If you have ever been moving through your life thinking " Okay, this is all pretty difficult but I got this.  I'm fine" then turned your head and got blindsided with other people's outrageous bull-oney then you will know just how I'm feeling.

Wanna talk?  No.
Wanna share? No.
Wanna write? No.
Wanna sing?  No.
Wanna play?  No.

Does this mean I have issues? I can say my point of view is recently affected and I am overwhelmed and somewhat distracted.  I do not own the problem though. A young relative once in a similar circumstance asked me if I thought she was crazy and I gave her the standard George Carlin reply, "If you think you are crazy, Please ensure first that you are not just surrounded by @$$holes." So much truth.

Generally,  I do not live in a place of No. This current state of mind is disconcerting for me. It unsettles my soul.  I want to hop-skip-jump back to my usual home in a place of Yes.  Will I find a way? Eventually, I'm sure. It is just the right-now that is life force diminishing.

You see, the issue for me, and for quite a few positive thinking people, is that I expect those around me to have generally good intentions. I try to surround myself with nice people. People who are trying to get through life without taking more than their fair share of space, certainly doing no intentional harm, and perhaps actively improving life in their circles.


However, lo and behold, despite every effort to avoid them the snakes start creeping in.  The self serving, the petty and the downright mean. What a singular joy it is to find that your daily life is going to have to be affected by the kinds of personalities that make your hackles instantly raise.  In a Utopian situation they would just slither around in the mud and the rest of us would pick up a few shed skins once in a while and whip them over the garden wall.

It does not work that way.

Surprise! They bite. They are poison. Those fangs hurt.

No one would choose to live with backbiting, scheming and generally horrible people surrounding them. It is definitely not my choice.  Life though, sometimes has its own way of inserting rot into your life. Not to mention that shady and untrustworthy self promoting individuals will worm their way in by any deception they find convenient.

Slither, slither. Bone-tiring to hear daily. Living on the extra alert. Being hyper vigilant to random attacks. Starting to have a new understanding of Harry Potter.  I understand how annoyed and sent off kilter he was while being followed by a relentless, evil minded snake.  Of course, he had the advantage of a valiant group of like minded friends to chase out the danger. I could use a Ron, Hermione, a Dumbledore or even a Hagrid. Alas, no such animals in the tedious Muggle world. Plenty of snakes, though.  Frustrating, when you know life does not need to be this way.

At present, there seems to be no magic wand and the motivation has turned from trying to fix  and mend to self protection and apathy.  I am grinding along and wondering where my determination went. There is a strength in me somewhere. I remember.  Time to dig it up and find a way out of the snakepit. 

Oh, Give Me Strength.

Sometimes I'm so chill its like: Come at me, bro....rain, thunder, plagues of locusts  I'll deal.   Other times I'm like,  Universe ! Change one more stoopid thing and imma gonna blow up and melt into a gooey blob of skittles.

Depends on the day.

There have been many days, too many when I start counting, where I seem to handle it all. Whether its my stuff, your stuff, stranger's, friend's, children's stuff.  Just throw that stuff on my pile and whoosh.  Its done. Its dealt with.  Then out of the blue along will come a day where I am beside myself over the most trivial teeny thing.  I have no strength, no stamina, no initiative.

Just the thought of all my responsibility makes me want to take a nap.  I don't nap, but on the days where even looking at my laundry makes me cry out snot bubbles it would most likely do the world a giant favor if I just stayed in bed.

I don't have impossible days very often. I am kind of adept in hiding the worst of my angst when I do.  Chin up, chest out.....as my sister would say.

So I ask myself on those days when life seems totally  undoable what it is that has me dangling over the edge like an untrained cliff climber.  I write down everything that has happened that day....what I've done, what I need to get done , all the glitches and annoyances.   Then I think back to one of the hardest days I've ever had.....just a random hard day where everything went "well" all things considered.  I write down all the deets of that day.  I compare them.

Not really surprisingly, the largest difference is easy to see.  Its all in my head. My life is no more difficult on the days where I just "can't even."  In truth, its usually less hard, less busy, and the issues are smaller and less important than my "I got this" days.

The big diffence? Worry.  Ah, worry.....that creeping ivy that gets in your brain and makes you think spilling your coffee is a major catastrophe. Oh no, now people will think I'm clumsy (ya, i am. Thats not a secret). I'm staining the carpet! (So what? There's a thing called soap!) Now I have less coffee! (Ok, that's a realistic worry. Cannot blame myself for that one)  Mr. Worry.  Sitting there with his feet up on my mind couch eating my chips.  Rotund, covered in crumbs, and spewing out evermore ridiculous scenarios that often start with....wouldn't it just be awful if....?

Wouldn't it just be awful if.....you fail? Wouldn't it just be awful if....you get sick? Like really really sick? Like dying sick? Wouldn't it just be awful if.....everyone realizes you are insignificant?

Oh ya, Mr. Worry Bear Bear.  He's got a poor manners and nothing but time to make me uncomfortable and sometimes even sweaty. Worry is a rather useless little skill that we, as humans, need to unlearn.   It does nothing positive.  Worry will stop any progress you intend to make like forgetting to oil your car stops the engine.

Worry, will grab you, beat you around the brain, mix up up your heart, and leave you marathon tired without accomplishing a thing.

Take any issue you are worried about.  My favorite is "will I have enough time to get everything done?"   The answer to that for me is very simple. No. I won't.  There's too much.    I'll get some done and that's way better than none.

Same question but with worry. Will I get everything done?   Oh, no, there's too much.  I dropped the baking pan, now I have to wash it! Oh no, that is more to do.  I will Never get everything done.  I will fail to get this one thing done!  Then Nothing else will get done!! Oh my gawd, Everyone will be mad, everyone will think I am a bigger idiot!!! Then there will be vitriol from all the people who need me! Oh no!  I will have to deal with that....that's more to do!!

You see where im going with this. Insidious worry can take a simple task and turn it instantly into a life sucking, dramatic, traumatic event.  Even the Bible says: Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life. Guess that means that Luke guy got the concept that worry is useless a couple thousand years ago. I am a slow learner.  Read that dang big book years ago and still let worry rip me up....many many times.

Worrying, doesn't add value.  It takes perfectly good energy and wastes it.  Worry gets me no closer to my goals.  If I take a step, complete one thing, take another step, do one more.....I'm fine. If I mix in a heaping dollop of worry while I try......I just exhaust myself.   Stop sooner and go to bed miserable. Worry more, sleep less, have terrifying dreams.

In the interim Worry does nothing for me. Who makes the cookies, sows the blankets, does the dishes? Was that worry? Nope. Lazy butt Worry doesn't do a dang thing.  Can't remember the last time worry  got me to work on time, fed my kid, or washed my windows. Did worry write for me,water the plants, pay my bills or paint my bathroom? Nope. All me.  Well, except the plant thing- they are all dead. Rest in peace, begonias.

So why do I ever let this loafer have free rent in my head?   Heck  I know there's very little room in there. I do not understand why our bodies and brains are hardwired to worry.  I don't get why worry is even a thing. It is truly miserable, useless and unproductive.  In fact so anti productive you would think that evolution would have fixed this problem by now.  Yet on we go, spending half our lives worrying. Changing nothing, making ourselves panic, filling our bodies with stress hormones and inflammation.

I desire more days where I feel like I can do anything. I need more days where it feels effortless.  I  think that I know how to get them. The next time the Worry Bear becomes a tenant- I'll evict him.  I'm sure he's redecorated my brain space a few times but this time: He can take his baggage and go.

Drop Your Sandbags

"Instead of trying to make your life perfect, give yourself the freedom to make it an adventure, and go ever upward."  Drew Houston.

I carry it around.  My baggage.  There's a few things that weigh on me.  Lately, I mostly ignore those things that drag me down.  Probably not the healthiest approach to the issues but for now:  it is my reality.

Truly,  it is not a matter of avoidance, just a profound lack of time.  My personality requires copious amounts of time to process things.  Alone time.  If there was an extreme Xgames for introverts I would be slamming it in high scores.

My life, currently, is not an introvert's paradise.  Work is people, people, people, Oh, and more people. My children also require interaction.  Strange but they like talking to me and being listened to as well.  All my other responsibilities require speaking to actual humans, too. So, sitting and pondering my dreams and the plan to make them happen gets about 0.0002 minutes out of my regular week. Eureka moments to work out bumps along the way are fewer and farther between.

Hey, I am not complaining. I have some real affection for all these people type people.  I just simply mean that because I am the one who needs to work things out in utter solitude and in a quiet peaceful place; I have not happened upon many solutions lately.  I am recognizing that.

In one of my very first jobs, I worked with a sage, experienced bartender named Bill.  He was quiet.  He rarely offered advice and was not the boisterous barkeep.  I walked in one day and out of nowhere Bill looked at me and said "Hey, Jayne, you need to drop your sandbags."  Anyone who has known me more than a minute would recognize the confused,  immediate reaction of my face. Try as I might to stop it:  my face speaks for me even when I would rather remain silent.  Lady Gaga might have a Poker Face but I missed that prize in the gene pool lottery.

Since my face had done the talking I did not need to ask any questions and Bill just continued.  "You are a nice, young girl (yupp, I used to be a young girl, peeps) , but you are carrying a lot of crap with you.  If you were in a hot air balloon, Jayne- You wouldn't make it off the ground. Drop your SandBags!"

I spent a long time after that pondering exactly what he meant.  I was 18.  Clueless.  I think I picked up a little more weight before I eventually figured it out.  Bill meant I was carrying a lot of SEP's.  Somebody else's problems.   What he could see that I needed was to let go of being a "fixer" for the people around me.  To let them take their own journey and create their own outcome.

He was wise and once I learned to do that around 30- being such a slow learner- life got easier and lighter.  I was able to forge my own path rather than take on other's chores and struggles.

Yet here I am.....once again.  I am pretty sure that my sandbags now are different.  I am not trying to change the world for others anymore.  I haven't taken on scads of difficult projects that are not of my own making and benefit me in no way, as I used to, frequently.  I can say, without doubt, that I do not completely understand what the heaviness is this time.

Much of my difficulty has sprung up from a sea change in my day to day life.  Not of my choosing this time but foist upon me by....life? The universe?

Somehow through all the demands, all the over scheduling, the mountain of responsibility; I need to steal some time. Time for about 48 hours on a quiet private beach....with a couple of my journals.  Time to figure out again what I can  change, where my next challenge is and how I can find the time to get there. Time to drop my sandbags.