On Hate...

8a: Avalon, NJ

Hate, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is

a : intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury

b : extreme dislike or antipathy

In the last year I was noticing how often I used the word "hate" in my every day speech. "I hate that..." "I hate this..." It was making me uncomfortable, noticing how often I was using the word to describe messes on the kitchen counter, difficult situations at work, or when my clothes weren't fitting properly. Mundane elements of daily living, and I was describing it with "intense hostility and aversion, derived from fear and anger." Well, isn't that the case, that often any strong feelings I have are usually rooted in fear. I'm afraid of messes because it somehow means I am not measuring up in the big, grand scheme of comparing myself to others. I am afraid when work is difficult because at the root, if I lose my job, how will I provide, and be provided for? I'm afraid when my clothes are getting snug because it means I'm somehow failing at self-care, that I am somehow not honoring my worth, that a larger size some how means worthlessness and defeat. 

Fear and hate go so well together. They are two emotions rooted in uncertainty so they feed off one another. When I'm afraid, I will turn my attention toward disliking what I believe to be the source of my fear--often unrealistically so, dramatized ideas that what I'm afraid of is actually a "thing," when really fear is usually about not getting what I think I should be getting or losing what I think I have in my grasp. 

So, I started challenging the word "hate" in my daily language. I asked friends to hold me accountable when they heard that word coming from my mouth. I've changed my language. I do not want to speak of hate. This isn't to say there aren't things I dislike extremely: fruit and chocolate together, the disease of addiction, social injustices, political discourse that quickly turns negative and critical, and people acting out hatefully. 

I can easily list things that cause me to feel dislike and antipathy. The solution, though, isn't to find the list and expand upon it. The solution, for me, is to be aware of the list, and pay attention to my initial emotional reaction, often stemming from fear, and then pause. In pausing, I remember where my Strength comes from. I am reminded of a Power greater than myself, and I am relieved in challenging moments. In awareness, I am then empowered. Awareness allows me to cultivate peace and serenity. I do not want to be governed by extreme dislike. I want to know what extreme dislike does to my body, my heart rate, my breathing, my arm pits, my hands. I want to be empowered by the taste of dislike in my mouth and the way it feels in the base of my throat, so I know that acting out in hate is unacceptable to me. The sensation of hate is not soul-fuel. 

Love, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is 

a: strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties

b: an assurance of affection, warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion 

I can easily define love. I know what it tastes like on my tongue, smells like in the back of my throat, feels like in my belly and behind my eyes. I know how my chest swells, rising in adoration and joy. Love feels differently than hate. I easily list the people, places, and things I love, and am aware I do not act out against those things, like I can when I start listing things I hate. 

I do not know what the solution is when people riot, when black men are killed by police officers, when police officers are killed by snipers and rioters, when there is so much hate, anger, and fear, when social and news media post videos of personal trauma like click bate, encouraging us to watch people die. 

I only know the solution for myself: 

Write. 

Change my language from one of hate to one of love. 

Read words from people I trust, thinkers, philosophers, persons of Faith, that remind me how to sit in discomfort with Grace, and how to transform fear into love with positive, thoughtful action, empathy, and peace. 

Be of Faith myself: More prayer and more meditation. 

Remove myself from news sources that instigate fear in my body, mind, and spirit. 

I am only one person. I am sitting here, on holiday on the Jersey Shore, incredibly sad, feeling powerless and afraid. I know it is unrealistic to presume peace in our world, but gosh, how eager I am to be part of the path to peace, to show more love to be of love (a little) more careful than of anything.   

the beginning lines of a poem by ee cummings

Freedom...

10a. Avalon, NJ

Step Six:  We were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

Avalon is a special place.  It's a town on a little island on the Atlantic, very southern New Jersey.  My husband's family has spent the better part of 30 years coming here for holiday, and now, I get to enjoy time here with his family in a cozy, inviting home for a week.

One of my favorite parts of coming down here are the meetings.  Every morning at 0730 there is a meeting 5 blocks from our house.  This morning, 4th of July, there were probably 200 people at the meeting. Not unusual, and wonderfully supportive and necessary.  I'm so grateful for meetings, connection, and community.  200 strangers to me, yet at the end, holding hands in prayer, I'm immediately part of and included.

Today The United States of America turns 240 years young. So young!! Freedom comes to mind, celebrating all that we have in this great nation, no matter one's politics, truly celebrating what it means to be American.  I am so grateful for the freedoms this nation provides, the brilliance of this land, and being a participant in my community to help make the world a better place, one day at a time.

Recovery promises "we are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness."  I believe that to be true.  I believe in my day-to-day living the more able I am to surrender to my higher power's will for me, the more ready I am to participate in daily living with ease and joy.

This morning's meeting was a reminder of the willingness required to receive the blessings of freedom in my daily life.  I feel so grateful.

I have a body...

July 2010 

July 2016

On having a body...

Mary Oliver wrote, in her poem, "The Messenger," 

since all ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart

and these body-clothes, a mouth with which to give shouts of joy to the moth

and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam, telling them all,

over and over, how it is that we live forever.

I think of these words often.  How I have been given a sharp mind, a big heart, and these body clothes.  A mouth to give shouts of joy, a mouth to share thoughtful kind words, a mouth to screw up sometimes, and say ridiculous things, a mouth to pray, the Hail Mary, over and over again.  

My mind knows how my body looks is irrelevant.  My heart knows that the joy I feel today is not dependent to the number of my pant size, the roominess of my waistline, or the digits on the scale. My mouth knows that positive words about my body are going to be more supportive than negative ones.  

And, then these pictures happened.  Today bottom left, on the beach with my amazing husband.  Being back on blogger I am finding all these photos from time in Switzerland 2010 when I blogged regularly. And top left is me, fine form 30 pounds lighter than I am in today's picture.  And, I can't say I'm any less happy in the photo in the right.  I probably love myself more today than I did in 2010, but you know,  six years have gone by and these six years have been formative! My relationship with God is strong, I am grateful for my rich, full, rewarding life, and I have body image issues.  

I am at a loss right now on what to do, how to 'fix' this, so I am writing about it, acknowledging the pain I feel in this moment as temporary, and knowing, really, this isn't about 'fixing' anything.  I do not want to be negatively impacted by my body.  I want to treat my body with reverence and respect. I want to move my body every day in a healthy, supportive way.  I want to honor the body-clothes I have been given.  

And, in so doing, I am aware there is a difference--in my 30-year old self and in my current 36-year old self.  I love taking photos.  I love capturing memories and experiences.  I've loved this for a long time.  I have 20,000 photos on my hard drive at home and I am grateful for each album I've created. Capturing life means so much to me so I am very aware how I'm feeling right now will happen, regularly.  As I age, I will notice my youthfulness more readily.  Since I've gained weight again, I notice my thinner waist, smaller breasts, fitter arms and legs.  I notice my long hair, and how I used to hide behind it, how I thought, how I've always thought, I'm the DUFF.  

Dang, even in writing this, I'm feeling regret.  I'm mad I'm back here, that I feel this way. I'm angry that a series of photos can remind me of this feeling.  I feel sad that the lightness of my own being is evident in black linen pants, a black tank, and 195 pounds, and all I see is the 195 pounds.  I am not seeing the amazing clouds on the Atlantic Ocean, the way the water felt on my feet, the way my husband's body felt against mine, or remembering the fun I had with friends on the water.  

For today, here is my solution: 
Be active
Eat more green foods
Drink loads of water
Oil my body 
Notice all my body does for me, all the positive ways it works: digests food, moves with ease, my organ function is pretty spot on!
I scheduled a massage on Tuesday--excellent. 
Eat healthy portions tonight at dinner

Body positivity is a movement I get behind, wholeheartedly.  I am grateful I know that what I look like in a photo only captures the moment, not the essence of my life.  I am so rewarded with body-clothes that change over time, and that something clicked for me 2009 -2011 where I lost 50 pounds and kept it off for a few years.  I'm not the heaviest I've been at my current weight, but I am not where I was in 2010, and I know that doesn't mean anything about my worth.  The fact I have gained, lost, gained, lost and now gained weight holds not one single dictate of my soul's worth.  

I aim to be positive about my body.  

Because we end where we begin, "When" by Mary Oliver: 

When it’s over, it’s over, and we don’t know
any of us, what happens then.
So I try not to miss anything.
I think, in my whole life, I have never missed
The full moon
or the slipper of its coming back.
Or, a kiss.
Well, yes, especially a kiss.

Setting Sail...

9a. Avalon, NJ

Sitting in a cozy chair, soft pj's, warm coffee. Birds. Rain, coming and going, coming and going, the sounds of the neighbors, voices, Jersey accents, doors shutting, and the house waking up. Chilly, but not enough to grab a hoodie or do anything differently, just noticing.

I have a lot to say.

In the last five years, I've only journaled in my pen and paper journal, and that has been fulfilling and wonderful.  There is no internet void because I haven't created a blog, or journaled online.  (Does Instagram count?  Because if it does, then disregard the above.... )

There is no void, anywhere.  There are an abundance of voices, listening, speaking, being heard, being yelled, stomping feet, bended knee. I only hear what I am ready to hear.  So, I sit here, knowing starting this blog may be silly, but I am able to write, I have some words to say, and I will say them best I can.

Who am I?

I am a 36 year old woman, who still feels 16.  I've always felt 16, even at 12. I have no idea what it means to feel adult, except to sit here, being an adult, and thinking maybe that's the whole point.  I still marvel at the fact I can drive a car and my credit score is as high as it is. I was named after the song "Layla" , hence the name of this blog, as my hope is to always talk of love, in every capacity.

May 2016

I am the product of a loving, hilarious mother, a not-so-present father, a beyond-measure amazing adopted father, who left this world in 2012, a caring step-father, a remaining grandfather who is nearing 93 years old, fought in World War II and is a passionate, kind man, an older, drum playing, motorcycle-riding brother, an aunt and two uncles who always make me laugh, and three cousins that I love dearly.  My family is messy, funny, and amazing at doing our best at getting through.

May 2016

I am ridiculously, googly-eyed in love with a tall, freckled, sometimes bearded, brown-eyed, man.  His zeal, enthusiasm, and consistency make me better. His family is small, but never lacking for love, support, good laughs, thoughtful engagement, and I marvel, when we're all together, that that I get to be part of this wonderful group.  We were married on a roof top in our chosen home, Prescott, Arizona, September 8, 2012, with nearly 200 hundred of our best friends and families there to support us.  We danced a hand jive at the end of the night, went home, walked our dog, and fell asleep holding hands. Life is good with him by my side.

I am a skilled professional for work, one of the helping kind, where I often assess blood pressure and pulse, while asking questions about trauma, suicide, substance use histories, and educating each person I come into contact with about how better care for their physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual bodies.  I believe in continuing education, being the best nurse I can be, providing thoughtful, considerate care to all those I come into contact with, and working hard so I can play hard.  I have lots of goals for my nursing career, and hope to achieve them mightily in the years ahead.

I am only all of these things because of the gift of my recovery, and because of anonymity, I will just say 12-step rooms saved my life, allow me to show up every day, and enable me to truly trust in a power greater than myself, and live each day just for what it is.  "I have been able to learn of God's love for me only by the experience of my dependence on that love."

What do I love?

Being outside, getting good quality rest, stillness, meditation, prayer, pen-and-paper journaling, reading, coffee, eating healthfully--most often vegan and local, playing frisbee, dancing, hugs in the kitchen--any room in the house really, my best girlfriends, travel, essential oils, music, running, yoga, hiking, make-up tutorials and cat videos (with a weird love of clumsy fail videos) on YouTube, sending memes to Whitney, Stephanie, and Michael, sandalwood mala beads, my beautiful kittens--Sonja and Wayne Rooney, fresh air, self-care, quiet stillness....

I love so much and am so grateful for this big life I live...And, I have some things to say: About infertility, wretched, inconsolable discomfort about not getting what I want, the gift of surrender and reliance on God, family systems theory, trauma, recovery, growth, expansion, yoga, Ayruvedic living, how to suit up, show up, and how that sometimes looks like episode 22 of Show XYZ on a 22 episode binge.

I am all that and then some, tall dark and handsome....I'm beyond your peripheral vision.....All the world is all that I am....I am see-through

I could steal so many lyricists (Thanks Tribe, Ani, Tori, and Alt-J) to voice my story, so I leave to say that I begin my story with my voice.  

And pictures of the Ocean....