Remembering Rainbows

Prompt: "We may run, walk, stumble, drive or fly but let us never lose sight of the reason for the journey or miss a chance to see a rainbow on the way." Gloria Gaither What is your take on this?

Sometimes this life's journey feels like one long, perpetually running stumble. The past year has been filled with proverbial potholes of finding judgment instead of understanding and disdain instead of loyalty. There have been moments when I have had to remind myself that each experience, be it disappointing or uplifting, is part of a bigger journey to understanding this world and one's place in it. I have come to a better clarity than I had before, even if that clarity brings a sadness and sense of loss in its wake. I feel I have a better understanding of what I mean to people in my family, my friendships, my workplace...and for me that has helped shape who I am. That has true value, even if it feels hard earned at times. Life is messy but it is also beautiful and fleeting, not unlike a rainbow. I've realized that there is more joy in life than most of us expect and that its usually the quiet moments that affect the biggest changes or make the deepest impressions on our hearts.


When I was little my grandmother used to ask me to sing her Kermit's "Rainbow Connection"...and I remember doing it quite often. I never seemed to recall all the verses but she typically joined in somewhere along the way. The song always makes me think of her, and those sweet moments I shared with her during my childhood. It is a sound about dreaming, about believing there is more to the world than the very literal and tactile elements of daily life. My grandmother is very much a dreamer, a believer in the power of all things artistic and ethereal. It is, I think, one of her greatest gifts. She has been a powerful influence in my journey.  An avid painter and a poet, my grandmother has taught me to appreciate the beauty in life and the value of all of life's lessons - even the difficult ones. She has taught me to take the time to appreciate the colors, the textures and the patterns all around me and use them to create my own art, to enhance my own craft. As I write this, I realize I would do well to remind myself of her lessons, of her contribution to my life.  I need to focus more on the positive, on the good and less on things that may have wounded me and left me feeling more estranged from her in the last year. There were times in my life that my grandmother's rainbows brought color and light when there could have been only darkness for a girl who felt invisible and lost. I really should do a better job of remembering that truth.

Jaden, My Crazy Love

Sometimes I have a moment when I understand why I've always been driven to write...why it has been always been such a huge part of how I define myself. This morning my husband sent me a link to a blog entry I had made years ago when my daughter was just about 17 months old. The date/time stamp reads May 20th, 2011 12:42pm. I took a moment to read over my words from that time and I was instantly transported back there, to that shining and wonderful moment when I was still a new mother.  It makes me realize and remember that I write first and foremost for me, because having this testimony feels like the best gift I can give myself on this journey of life. My words give me the vehicle to look back, and experience those moments again in living color.  I love this entry so much because I see myself as that new mother just taking in all the joy and wonder of raising a daughter.  It is such a bright and sweet snapshot of our amazing journey as a family. 

Jaden, My Crazy Love...                                                      May 20th, 2011 12:42pm
Jaden is feeling better. There is still a slight rumbling sound when she breathes but her eyes are bright and her laughter and smiles are again effortless and joyful. She bounced around the house this morning leaving a narrow swath of destruction in her wake. She kicked over the dog's food bowl, scattering pieces across the floor, tossed my neatly folded laundry all around the living room, crushed a graham cracker under her shoe in the kitchen and left a trail of cherry puffs down the walkway. I followed after her, amazed by her energy and enchanted by her gleeful giggle. There was a moment this morning, when I was so captivated by the beauty in her little face, that the world stopped for me. There was only the morning light and the perfection of her tiny profile, still so much her father's yet still so exceptionally unique at the same time. If she would let me, I'd love to cup her little face in my hands and just study her, every inch, so I could memorize her features before they change again, before she grows up - growing ever closer to the girl, the teenager, the woman she will one day become.

When Fatih and I got married, we played Van Morrison's "Crazy Love" for our dance with our wedding party. I always loved the song. I always wanted to be loved like that, have a love that was that powerful, consuming, unconditional. Dancing with my new husband, I had felt like I had found it at last.

This morning, that song came on the radio and as I listened, I found a whole new meaning in it, a new connection in my life. That feeling I get with Jaden, the desire to hold time still and just watch her, take her all in until my heart aches with the impossible fullness of it...that's my Crazy Love. She is the thing that "brightens up my day", "takes away my troubles, takes away my grief" The heavens really do seem to "open up every time she smiles" and I feel as if I could, without any effort at all, "hear her heartbeat for a thousand miles", that same sweet sound that pulsed inside me for nine months. But nothing is more true about this Crazy Love, than the fact that her very existence makes me complete in a way I never imagined was possible...

"Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me whole, yes it makes me mellow down into my soul.."

Leap of Faith or Let it Go...

Family. For the past two months the concept of family has preoccupied my thoughts and permeated my dreams.  I’ve had a dichotomy playing out in my heart as to whether or not to try to have another child, which at my ripe age, is likely more fantasy than reality. I’ve been agonizing over my daughter’s future and whether or not being an only child would be beneficial or just lonely later on. I’ve also been struggling pulling away from my family, to self-isolate, in an effort to preserve feelings – mine as well as theirs. I used to feel like an integral part of the system, one of the cogs in the machine that kept us all together. Now, I feel villainized.  But, is family so important that you let it fundamentally affect you? To influence the decisions of your life? To alter plans?  The complexity of my feelings these days are making me question everything about my life and about the people who have occupied the prominent places in my life like the features of the most familiar landscape. 

I try very hard to be authentic. I write as I breathe. I don’t use other people’s words or witty meme’s to express my own feelings and thoughts. I don’t enjoy gray areas of understanding and I reject the almost humanly desire to be passive aggressive whenever possible. Writing is how I process, how I reason and rationalize.  Writing is how I reflect and how I keep myself anchored.  I make mistakes. I am as flawed as the next person, weakened by my fears but also strengthen by battles hard fought. I am not always the person I want to believe I am. I am constantly learning about my vulnerabilities to being hurt and my capacity to forgive. Still, it is easy to take on someone else’s assessment of you and wear it for a while, like a cloak of shame or a robe of penance. I’ve had to tell myself, so often in the past weeks, that I am only responsible for my own feelings and perceptions.  The beliefs and experiences of my life are the only things I can every honestly take ownership of. That’s it. 

Contrary to what some may believe, I hate drama. Who wouldn’t want to live in a rose-colored world where everything is wonderful and everyone is the best version of themselves?  Who would want to intentionally seek out conflict, generate ill-will and discontent? There is enough of that filling television screens and Facebook statuses every day.  Life, however is messy. It is not vapid. It is not phony or idealized. It is colorful and chaotic. It is fluid. To truly live this life you sometimes have to get dirty. You have to step up, speak out. You sometimes have to engage the visceral truths and acknowledge the unpleasant. You have to seek answers to questions you hadn’t wanted to ask. You have to face the things that built you as well as the things that threaten to tear you down. You have to aspire, to dream, to fail, to disappoint, seek redemption and say, “fuck you” to your fiercest critics.  You also have to lose yourself from time to time, I think, so you can find another version of yourself…. a better, more Teflon-coated, “fuck-all” unapologetically real, version of yourself. Some days you just have to hope the people who love you the most will still love you the best no matter what and if not, you have to learn to let go.  Some days you have to consider walking away or take leap…

Chasing Success and Getting Lost Among the Momeraths

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Day 753 March 30, 2016 

Prompt: Why are we conditioned into the strawberry and cream, Mother Goose world, Alice in Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become aware of ourselves as individuals with a dull responsibility in life? Sylvia Plath.  What is your take on this?

The brilliance of Plath’s tormented insight has been revealed to me more and more I as age.  The way in which she viewed the world around her and her place in it, was remarkably developed and venerable for someone so young. She tragically bore the “dull responsibility” in life for as long as she could and I think of her struggle often these days. Writing, I hope, brought her some respite from those dark hours.  I know that it does that for me sometimes.  I think I agree that we, young girls in particular, are conditioned with fairytales and fables. I think they are far less a staple of growing up than they used to be.  I believe the collective conscious of today crafts warrior princesses who do the rescuing, brave girls who engineer and invent and young minds who solve problems and tote the motto, #smartisthenewcool.  I like to think mothers today raise girls who have a confidence and a vision for themselves and like me, look for the real life lessons in those old Mother Goose stories. Also, I’m not sure I see myself as an individual with a “dull responsibility in life”.  There are days of drudgery of course, but those days don’t carry the script of my existence.  Have I been broken on the wheel? Absolutely. Several times over at certain points in my life…but for each “down” there has always been a resounding “up”.  Becoming an individual is the beauty of the journey, with all its vivid pain and joy. The times when I have been broken, have allowed me to grow into something more. I love Alice and I wish sometimes the world was more “Wonderland” but one can only get lost among the mome raths for so long before having to grow up.  I know that and I make sure my daughter does too. I might not be able to spare her the wheel but I can do my best to prepare her for it.

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DAY 1232: March 30, 2016 

Prompt: What does success mean to you?

Success is something I think a lot about. My type A personality tells me that the more power and authority I have in my career, the more successful I will be.  I am driven, at times, beyond my own real ambitions I think. If I were to consider the question of what success legitimately means to me, I think my actual opinion would be far less lofty and almighty.  I would like to have recognition for my accomplishments in a very male dominated industry.  I would like my contributions to the company to be acknowledged among my peers in that industry. I would like to be seen as someone who “knows their stuff” and who’s opinion and insight matters.  Do I need to be CEO?  Some days it is easy to get lost in that fantasy but truth be told, I don’t want to sacrifice all that I would need to in order to be a good CEO. Having the finances to make home improvements, send my daughter to piano lessons and summer science camps and to take that annual vacation…that’s a more attainable way to define my success. I think just being able to live life as full as one can, with as much contentment as possible and without the stress of surviving from paycheck to paycheck, I think that makes us successful.