Learning Enough

I could point to lots of reasons I haven't consistently posted anything in months. All of them would be true. All are valid reasons. I write lots of posts in my mind and they never reach the page. I do write every day. Sometimes my writing is done through correspondence with friends. Sometimes writing is just for me in my journal. Today, however, my Inner Muse is writing. She is also saying, "Put it in print, Lori." 

My muse is kind-hearted and gentle. My inner critic is brutal. It would seem logical that I would follow the muse who speaks kindly and offers encouragement.

Call it conditioning.
Call it masochism.
Call it craziness.

I don't fully understand it either.

I respond most often to the Brutal Critic!

So, Brutal Critic you are banned from my world today. The voice to whom I'm responding is letting me know that there just might be a few others who'd like to hear this dust from my trails.

(For those that may be stuck on the page of "Good grief!! SHE IS CRAZY!".... The muse is not an audible voice. And I do know that I am not TRULY a Fairy Godmother--at least not one with magical powers. Wink.)

I never intended to be a public blogger. I'm just terribly unorganized and I thought blogspot would be easy to find. I'm never quite sure where I put my journal.
Or my pen.
Or my reading glasses.
I just got found. Then a few people asked for some more stuff, blah, blah, blog.


I wish Inner Muse was writing something funny--like when a friend at the gym pointed out that everyone could see the writing on my panties THROUGH MY SHORTS!

(I do love my orange and black striped panties that say Wicked AND glow in the dark, though--a Halloween happy from Jenny. Putting those on is the only time I'm willing to turn around and look in the mirror. I cackle every single time--full out belly laugh in the dark! It's so good to be known--which is really what I'm musing.)

I'm lonely. A lot. Not the kind of lonely that gets solved by a quick fix of chatting with someone at the grocery store. No. I'm talking about the yearning that craves the emotional intimacy of being known fully and still  loved completely. The loneliest place I've ever been was in my marriage and falsely believing that I didn't have an option to leave. One gift that I received during that time, though was that I began offering my ears and heart to others--even at the grocery store. I figured that if I was lonely and hurting and seeking connection, there might be a person or two in my path each day that might feel alone or isolated or trapped or desperate.

So I started experimenting. I had a demanding toddler at the time. Although I admit to loving a romantic story and cry when The Bachelor proposes each season. I'm mostly a realist. I can enjoy the romance; but, I know that life happens and people are people.

I do not enjoy failure.

I set my bar low. At minimum my daily goal was to look directly into people's eyes, particularly people in serving positions. (Been there. Always stunned me when I was invisible to people....."Ummmmmm....Standing right here!!")

My goal was to let them know without words that I really saw them. When coupled with a genuine smile and a thank you, guess what happened? Most people responded in kind. When a genuine question or a sincere comment was added, I discovered that people wanted to connect. The goal was not to be best buddies with every person I met. That's just stupid. No, I was trying to offer to others what I longed for--connection, to be seen. I was also searching for souls who might share my love and passions for life.

I didn't know at the time that I was also training myself to cherish the connected moments that did happen. My journals are full of now forgotten moments between me and people I've only seen once or  maybe weekly at my grocery store. (OK, I used to go to the store almost every day because I don't plan ahead very often. I knew and still do know the drive-through people the best. )

Fast forward to now. Having spent almost three years divorcing and another year or so trying to rebuild a different, new life for myself and my child, I've learned something about different kinds of loneliness. Decisions we make shift the landscape of our lives. Decisions others make can do the same. Those are just a couple of ways my life has been impacted. What I know is that I cannot control life and all it's circumstances. But I can choose how I respond!

I'm discovering, to my great surprise that those years of experimentation helped me then and NOW. I learned then that I really, really love people. The more I asked God to help me love others, the more I did. When I encountered prickly, snarly people instead of judging and reacting, I began privately wondering why a person would be so ugly?

(I'm that girl who sits and makes up elaborate stories about everything and everybody I see.)

Everyone has a story. Everyone. The more story I knew, or made up, the more I was able to connect and offer grace.

BUT....how in the world does that help me now? NOW when the chit chat and stories may warm someone else, but still leaves me alone?

The skills I honed helped me attract people who also want to be known and loved. I am blessed beyond measure with deep abiding friendships. I am learning, ever so slowly, to receive words and gifts they offer me to fill the void. I learned during those desolate years how to lean into the presence of God and allow Him to sustain me.

(I'd blog on that except I've already said more than I know. I haven't really a clue how that happened or how to replicate it in another life. I just know it happened. And still happens everyday.)

I'm not diminishing the importance of God's daily, intimate presence in my life. But, 'dammit'--sorry Mom and Dad, sometimes I want to hear a real voice, have a real hand holding mine. I am whiny and obstinate. I KNOW what's best for me at all times and that needs to be a person. In my all knowing formula, shouldn't that come in the form of a partner? A man?!

Guess what? That's just not happening! Can't explain why God doesn't know what's best for me. Irreverent wink.

He's helping me embrace all of the people and moments of genuine intimacy that are in my world daily as not simply a substitute, but ENOUGH.

Ridiculous first example...So when Georgia, Carol's dog that I really kind of hated decided I was the GREATEST PERSON ON THE PLANET EARTH every time she saw me or heard my voice---so much so that if I petted her she peed everywhere, I began accepting her affection and love for exactly what it was. A spirit lifter. I mean, is there a person who will jump three feet repeatedly, race around the yard running and barking, and pee on the ground when I simply touch him? NO! Gift received. (I love Georgia now. How could I NOT?)

When my sister from another mother Jenny buys me Wicked panties for Halloween or brings me Poise cooling wipes for hotflashes that she got free with a coupon, I am being known and loved. When Brenner, her youngest whom I've blogged about calls me and asks me to go swimming with him, I am wanted and desired. When my newest adopted family member, Mary insisted I spend Christmas with them, I was grafted into a new family. When I hear her daughter Lily screaming my name from the inside of their house as I park my truck, I embrace and accept that as passionate, unfettered love. When Patty called and asked if I would be Godmother to she and Carrie's unborn daughter, Charlotte, how could I mistake this as anything but deep, trusting, committed love? I am gaining another child and Annie Beth said, "I'm getting the sister I always wanted!" When Annie Beth shifted back into a place of wanting to snuggle beside me while we watch tv or play on our electronics, let's face it, I'm a weepin' mess!

What more could I ask for without being petulant?

Am I alone? No. Not really.
I asked.
I looked.
I received.

I am grateful.