Random Thoughts

www.vintag.es centerofthewest.org I can remember as a girl racing down a big hill on my bike, my feet balanced on the handlebars (something like Rosalind Russell in this photo), braids flying in the breeze, no helmet, no knee pads, The only protection I had in those days was a belief that I was invincable. I should have been concentrating. Instead, my only thoughts were on the show I would perform for my neighbors. Thunderous applause rang in my ears. I'd start out slow then build to a dazzling cresendo akin to the wild west shows where the girls rode around a ring flipping back and forth across the horses back, turning circles, and standing up on the saddle with outstretched arms. When I was 9, I did more than just aspire to greatness. I was great. I was also something I haven't been in ages - fearless. I ran down hills, snuck into movie theaters, investigated off limit places on the Navy bases, and sat with an older boy sat in the woods behind our house. I was gutsy...

I woke up noticing how much excitement feels like fear, and together they feel like a big ball of spaghetti tangled up in my stomach. Kind of like anticipating Christmas morning as a kid, then finding out you had to get a shot before you could open your presents. You know there's something good on the other side of fear, but getting there takes big girl courage. I'm 61 and wondering where to find my big girl courage. Stay tuned .... Later that same day: Meeting Thunder Going for a walk. Note to self: Keep your feet away from Thunder's feet I'm up! I'm on!  Sweetie holding the reins Dale Evans eat your heart out! Theresa and Merry ME If you're going to conquer your fears, make sure you have someone gentle and understanding to help you. My friend, Amy, who made it all happen, with Sassy Still processing, Merry ME

 I noticed two things today. I got a call this morning from an HR person at a company called Senior Helpers. A couple of weeks ago I was riding this strange high about rejoining the caregiving community. My soul's knowing place spoke up and nudged me into giving it a voice. I talked to Sweetie about it. I talked to my senior friend about it, to my writing group and my priest friends. Everyone agreed. I'm not psychotic. Listening to my heart is different from hearing voices. I toyed with the idea of starting my own business. I also thought it would be good to investigate some caregiving and schools.  I filled out an online application. I felt confident, secure, brave.  When I got the call for an interview I agreed to work for $8.00 an hour, even though it seems like a paltry fee. But I've got to start somewhere. Even though I may have a bunch of experience, I don't have any credentials, certificates, or references.  And with that little tiny opening crack of insec...

In a short conversation with Alana Sheeren (see previous post) she asked "what's the worst that can happen." Knowing it was only a 15 minute call and I didn't have time for a laundry list of "worsts" I blurted out failure. Yeh, I'm pretty afraid of failing even though I've had some mighty successes in my life. Weird. Later on Alana asked me what would I say to Little ME.  As I did in my therapist's office a few months ago after an EMDR session, I imagined holding her hand and saying, "it's going to be okay." There I am feeling so scared I'm almost paralyzed with moving ahead in my life and at the same time I'm telling my inner child everything is going to be ok. I used to be like that with my children.  For example, when traveling, I'm a worry-wort of the highest degree. I check my ticket, put my i.d. in a place where I'll find it easily, check my ticket, shuffle through my purse looking for my i.d., go to the ...

"Fears are nothing more than a state of mind." By 12:23 it was over. All the fears, the nausea, the rapid breathing. In fact, most of my symptoms went away as I stood in front a group of my peers, other writers traveling a similar path, and said, "Hi!" Of course I still had my presentation to get through but if I could have I would have turned around to face myself and say, " see. SEE. you can do this. it's not so bad. I'm so proud of you. listen to them laugh." I tried saying those same words to the shaking girl in the mirror before I left home but she wasn't really listening. I have to say there is something kind of heady about hearing an audience's reaction to your work. They laughed in all the right places. Places I'd written so many times I thought they'd failed to be funny at all. When it was all over I looked at my Sweetie and breathed a sigh of relief. He was quietly proud, "the wind beneath my wings". I stood wit...