|During my first year with Nascar, learning to love the nature of things|
International Woman's Month is March. I am awkwardly introspective these days as a result of my bipolar emotional state about moving and as a result of the mockery that our media and the Republican presidential primaries are making of women's issues, especially reproductive rights.
I am in awe of the woman I have become - or that true maturation ever happened. My formative years were spent focusing on appearance. Even late into my twenties, I made most of my decisions based on what would look cool. Being a young, slightly clever white woman, often appearances trumped necessity in my choices in those early years. I have never moved anywhere for a job, I spent most of my twenties choosing to drink, party, and hang out, because I could. It has only been in the last 10 years that I have truly learned what hard work is and what the struggle is to be a woman. Putting myself through nursing school, re-establishing family connections that were almost shattered beyond repair, committing myself to a lifetime partner, have all been acts in discovering my womanhood. Everything before truly was just child's play.
I watch with a true disappointment the argument about birth control in this country. Being the child of born again Christian parents, I am all too familiar with the argument, "We should not have to pay for you to freely commit sins." I counteract this argument with, "I should not have to pay for you to keep people alive on machines because you believe the insurance companies owe you." This argument sounds too death panel -ish, so I choose not to lead with it. Instead, I evoke images of myself 10 years prior. I used birth control during a time in my life that I defined being cool as being successful. And being cool meant being at the party more than anywhere else. I will be forever grateful that God did not bitchslap me with a pregnancy at that time, thanks to birth control. I am not grateful for me, but rather for the child that might have made it into my immature hands.
Preparing for this move to SLC is really opening me up to God's signs. Two weeks ago, a red fox scampered in front of my car while cruising through Twin Peaks. The fox is a family oriented animal, and one who uses camouflage to lead. This little guy crossed my path to remind me to sit back and listen, rather than speak. I am struggling with this, just as I struggle with being joyous in this transition. Yesterday, Ryan saw a lynx on the outskirts of town, in SLC. The lynx is a reminder of secrets to be discovered. I am certain that the next set of lessons and secrets of being human await me as I embark on this journey to SLC with my love. I am slightly disappointed at how hard it is for me to rise above the fear into the exaltation of getting a chance for a fresh adventure.
I fly to SLC today to check out the town, before moving there at the end of May. Ryan started work on Monday, and we are looking at 2 months of living apart. Of course, this morning I am up at 4 am again, slightly petrified and slightly excited about this trip. Irritation and fear loom at the outside of any moment for me. The act of being joyous in the moment is monumental. I almost immediately fall into a dull panic and a slight ache for what I will miss. Leaving my nephew will be one of the hardest things I have ever done at this point in my life. That kid has brought so much healing to our family, and created a bond that I thought would never exist between my brother and I. I worry that the family closeness forged between my brother, my nephew, and I will be lost in the miles.
All I can do is promise to not disappear. Your dad and I have figured out how to forge a relationship through some really tough stuff. I will model that same esteem and perseverance to you. Uncle Nascar and I will model healthy loving to you, too. Things I look forward to sharing with my nephew include: I can't wait to Skype with you! I can't wait to be your Auntie B who flies you to the country every year. I will show you Zion Park, the Grand Canyon, and the Arches. One day, when you are old enough, I will teach you about the power of fox, lynx, and help you discover your animal medicine. Have faith in me little man, and I will have faith in myself, and not let either of us down.
The alcohol abstinence experiment has been slightly altered. I am finding it very hard to say good bye to my life here without the spirit of celebration. For me, this will always include a good spirit. After 3 months of sobriety, with 2 episodes of drinking - both inspired by stress, I am suspending the cessation experiment. Rather, I am modifying it. Instead of complete cessation, my goal is for wise moderation, and use of alcohol in the moment of celebration only. Some ground rules: 2 drink maximum, at least a pint of water between drinks. This should preclude any binge drinking behaviors because they: a> cause hangovers, b> lead to severe depression in my soul, c> decrease my awareness of the magic within the moments.
To everyone who offered praise and encouragement, thank you. I am not letting go of the change, but rather moving with it. The act of turning down wine with dinner and feeling as though I do not want to go out, lest I be tempted to drink was becoming very heavy, especially when mixed with the fact that I am trying to meet up with old friends and say good bye to a life that I have spent the last 12 years building. I want to celebrate, wisely. I want to test my maturity level. I understand the nature of this issue, now I need to test my self-esteem and self-wisdom. I will invoke the Moose medicine to assist me on this path. I am proud of my accomplishments thus far. I am choosing to be gentle with myself a I embark further down this path of discovery, so I find myself joyous, not fearful, in love, not irritated.
Moose -Self esteem #11
You enjoy a job well done; you enjoy sharing your joy. You believe joy should be shouted with pride. Moose people have the ability to know when to use gentleness of a deer and when to activate the stamped of buffalo. They understand the balance of giving order to get things done and a willingness to do things themselves.