Dirty Laundry

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By now I know myself well enough to expect emotional breakdowns after a major life change. Adrenaline only gets me so far before I have that sudden moment of overwhelming fear. In this moment, I become convinced I’ve made the worst decision and I must be crazy. I fit a lot of self flagellation into a short amount of time and decide I have no way out. That moment of fear feels like a bottomless pit.

But the moment after that?

The moment after the moment of fear is truth. The truth is that I’m strong. The truth is that I continue living my life on my terms and not letting the fear put me in a strangle hold. The truth is I can and will keep going. The truth is that fear never wins.

Within the last year alone I’ve lived in Hawaii, Montana and now Laos. In one year. Moving isn’t easy and I have to remind myself it’s on the list of top most stressful things one can deal with. It’s not easy.  Living in a country that is entirely different from what I’m used to is exciting, but equally difficult. I have to piece together a new life using what I discover here. This constant state of not knowing what will happen next keeps me totally in the moment.

Mindfulness is a survival skill.

When fear hits I will continue to remind myself that nothing worth doing is easy.

 

Anonymous Horse

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I’m striving for balance. The fine line between holding on and letting go is difficult to walk. Most days find me leaping from one side to the other never to land in the middle.

The word that defines my ultimate goal is “Equanimity”.

Equanimity (Latinæquanimitas having an even mind; aequus even animus mind/soul) is a state of psychological stability and composure which is undisturbed by experience of or exposure to emotions, pain, or other phenomena that may cause others to lose the balance of their mind.

My bizarre brain decided this word sounds like it should mean “anonymous horse”. Equine Anonymity.  I also decided that this might be the real meaning of the song “A Horse With No Name” by the band America. Maybe wandering the desert is a metaphor for stillness and balanced emotions.

I’m about to live in a mostly Buddhist country. Perhaps I’ll soak up some of the calm and mindfulness wafting off of the monks and emanating from the Temple walls. It certainly can’t hurt.

Or maybe I’ll be searching for that anonymous horse even in Laos.

………………………………………..

On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound

I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain

After two days in the desert sun
My skin began to turn red
After three days in the desert fun
I was looking at a river bed
And the story it told of a river that flowed
Made me sad to think it was dead

You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain

After nine days I let the horse run free
‘Cause the desert had turned to sea
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
there was sand and hills and rings
The ocean is a desert with it’s life underground
And a perfect disguise above
Under the cities lies a heart made of ground
But the humans will give no love

You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain

~A Horse With No Name

Such a Pansy

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It’s been two weeks since Rob left for Laos. I knew this time apart would be taxing, but today it feels endless. I’m a hermit by nature. Rob calls me his “lone wolf” and I have to say I find that a very fitting description.

I prefer solitude. My alone time is when I recharge and refill the emotional tanks. I like a quiet life of simple things.

Even a hermit gets lonely. Two weeks totally on my own has me feeling admittedly sad today. As I looked for some inspiration to forge ahead, I remembered the little Pansy that grew outside our front door last Fall. This little guy held his head up even when the leaves fell. Snow came and even when that first white blanket melted he rose up strong. I was blown away every day to see my little Pansy friend holding out against the bitter weather.

I used to think Pansies were fragile little things, like the butterflies of the flower world. Now I know that to be called a Pansy is a sign of courage and strength.

Today I am going to be such a Pansy.

(Photo is the actual little Pansy I admired so much)(I miss him)