Micki's Musings

 Hello, Self. You are 40 years old today. You have lived and loved and breathed and laughed and cried and sung and danced for 40 years on this earth.  You have not been idle. I want to tell you that I love you, and I'm proud of you. You are intelligent and competent and kind and compassionate. You are quirky and fun and energetic and optimistic. You have hope. You haven't always been those things, and you haven't always had those things, but you have worked so very hard to get to where you are now. You are so very imperfect, and you keep trying anyway. You are beautiful. You are worthy. You are doing really well. There have been those in the past, and there will undoubtedly be those in the future, who cannot see you, and that's okay. I see you. And He sees you. The most important He that is the relationship you truly need and desire most, that He is the one who will love and cherish you perfectly and unconditionally forever. Perhaps your other he will complete the trian

 If I were to rank the top three most difficult times of my life so far, it would go like this: 1. My divorce 2. Getting my masters degree as a full-time working single mama 3. The last two months with the move and starting two new jobs I know this move was the right thing. I know these jobs will be wonderful and fulfilling. But this part right now is so very heavy as I'm trying to seem competent without feeling that way and trying to figure out the ins and outs of the new spaces and places and faces. And it's heavy when society feels so against me as an educator and against me as a person trying to afford my rent and against me as a single woman trying to remain virtuous and raising kids by myself is hard and it gets really, really, really exhausting. Transitions are always tricky. I tried to prepare for that. Starting new jobs is tricky. I tried to prepare for those. But being in the middle of it all--I failed a little bit. I failed my students a little bit. I failed my kids

For me, it's not often about pedicures and spa days. For me,  it's sometimes curling into a ball under my desk  and crying  because there are too many moving pieces and I can't do them all alone  and third period was catastrophic  and I need to feel and release the emotions  so I can move on instead of holding them in to fester and make me sick.  Sometimes, it's working a twelve-hour day with no extra pay so the catastrophe doesn't repeat itself  and I can have peace of mind. Sometimes, it's about putting the work away for a few minutes to write Or waiting for the crowd on the beach to clear even if it's after dark so I can have some quiet water time                                all to myself. Sometimes it's connecting with others, and sometimes it's being alone.  Sometimes it's happy and energetic,  And usually, it's quiet and reflective. For me, it's seeing myself and not worrying about what anyone else thinks it should be.

I'm experiencing a time of great change. I'm about to embark into a state of huge transitions professionally, physically, and emotionally. It's so easy to get overwhelmed. It's so easy to become afraid. As I embark into the unknown, I encounter challenges to overcome and needs to meet. It pushes me to seek new avenues for problem-solving. It feels dark and uncertain, but without the darkness, I wouldn't be pushing myself to find new light. I feel weary of limiting myself and worrying. I want to let go and let God. This is extremely difficult for me, as it is for many people. I feel the whisperings that we are in His hands. I have the faith, sometimes, that all will be well if I just let Him take control. Then I try to figure out my finances and the reality supersedes the faith and I stumble and feel afraid. Sometimes, I walk on water with him, and sometimes I let myself sink. I struggle to know exactly how much to do myself and how much to get out of His way. I must

I'm returning. I'm making time and space to breathe. I took a trip to Puerto Rico and visited my ocean. I've been doing yoga. I've been prioritizing my spirituality. I've been making steps forward with the things I want to do. It's slow progress, but I've learned that slow progress is more real and permanent. I still have some anxieties to deal with. My ex violated the protective order again by sending me a nasty text message. I'm dealing with the court fallout from that. Of course his story is that his angry ex-girlfriend is the one who sent it. He always has such good stories. Anything to avoid accountability.  He hasn't directly communicated with me at all since then. When he needs to know something, he goes through one of the kids. I don't really like that they are the go-betweens, but I check in with them and ask how they feel about it. There isn't a whole lot of communication needed, so they aren't too stressed out about it. Like so

I'm back in the space where feeling doesn't make sense. Existing is confusing. I can't remember the purpose. I need something big. A jolt. I'm tired. The moment came where I noticed a choice. The precipice of madness is real. I saw the darkness and I considered tipping. I wanted it. I still do. To have the responsibilities dissipate. To be released from the weight. I want it. I had a choice and the choice scared me, so I pulled away from it. I wrenched myself away from the precipice, but I remember it. It's alluring.  I rocked back and forth, sobbing. I stroked my soft blanket, rubbing it with my hands, my arms, my legs. Anywhere that skin touched fabric, I stroked it. I tried to breathe. I prayed. The darkness got very big. It got very strong. I wanted to jump in, but I wouldn't let myself. Always the discipline. Always the holding back. Always the stopping myself. So. Much. Self. Control. I. Hate. It. I pulled myself back to the light. Shhh, I told myself. Shh