Faith. Hope. Love. These concepts have weighed heavily on me the last little while. I’m going to attempt to do a better job with this blog than I normally do. Mainly because they are not fleeting thoughts. In fact, they weigh so heavily because they almost feel like major epiphanies being brought to my soul. It’s like a wise friend said about self revelations, “It’s like cleaning out a closet—gotta get messy before it gets all straight..gotta tear it up to put it back together.” Aside from it being important to me, I think several of my friends may be struggling as well. To just dump my usual random banter about the subjects doesn’t do the concepts or my friends justice.

Perhaps most paramount, I think Faith, Hope, & Love are intertwined. This revelation struck something inside me when I finally put it together. It’s semi-painful to share much detail—and not necessary—but here’s how things played out: I met someone and unconsciously placed hope in it developing into romance; when some unexpected twists unfolded it was revealed to me I loved him; and when I spoke to God about it, he only answered all day every day (no matter what was going through my mind), “have faith.” As it turned out, being Friend Zoned was the best thing that’s possibly ever happened in my life. He’s my closest friend and would die for me in an instant. And only afterwards did it strike me how in this instance—and so many others—a combination of faith, hope, and love made for a wonderful gift of connection—to a friend and to the universe. Having said this, it’s going to be challenging for me to outline each ingredient in clear and achievable language. Let’s be honest, this is brand new for me and I’m still figuring it all out. Please add commentary and share your experiences too.

I’d like to start with hope, because that’s where this experience started unveiling for me. Hope is like a weed—you walk in the house at 5pm one day via your freshly cut lawn. At 8am you can walk out and find a few giant weeds have sprung up overnight. Ok, maybe it takes a few days? Maybe, like me, you don’t notice it growing until its in your face obvious. I don’t know if that’s the best analogy but it’s all I have at 1am. But here’s what I have been trying to focus on internally over several months: living wholeheartedly, letting my guard down about romance and love, trusting people, seeing who they are and what their intent is, and bringing exactly who I am to the table (for better and worse, unapologetically). A big lesson I’ve seen is that hope isn’t placing expectation in someone else’s hands, it’s cultivating inside you that which will allow you to be EXACTLY who you are and loving yourself for it. In other words, my only hopes were that I break free of some personal bad habits. The hope was clearing a path inside me to be open to something more. It took some critical thinking to get —really grasp— that new take on hope. And, no matter what the outcome or someone else’s actions, I can rejoice because I got what I hoped for from myself. To really have hope, you must clean out that closet I referenced above.

When I started slowly realizing some of my self-sabotaging ways, I had not been close to God. [I won’t go into my dogma just suffice it to say I am a believer in a higher power. That’s where I come from and no, I don’t intend to convince you to believe the same as me nor should you.] That troubled me for unconventional reasons, but mainly because I find more peace within when I feel like I’m on track with the universe. As I become aware of my thoughts, I realized I really, REALLY had a tendency to want to fight the way life unfolded. It’s almost as if I had internalized “The American Dream” to the point where I believed there was nothing I cannot change. At some point I had to accept that things are just as they are and I had to draw a line inside me, constantly reminding myself, “Here are the things I have control over, here are those in which I have none.” And, I had to be content to let what I can’t control off the hook as my obligations. Not even content, I have had to learn to be grateful about it. Faith has come to be defined inside me as keeping an open line of communication to receive messages from the universe, trust the universe and seek its lessons willingly, and understand how things end are not 100% in my control. I can sit here tonight and tell you there is nothing I would change about my past because it got me right here and I’m as happy as I’ve ever been. I had to stop shaming myself, understand I am enough because the divine made me exactly this way, and let go of some battles.

And the subject I know the least about—or rather, spend the least amount of time trying to understand—is love. I can’t define it and I challenge anyone who says they can. Love is the bird singing and the squirrel playing. Love is the music that moves you and the recognition you give when telling the musician thank you. I know more about what love is NOT than what it is. I do know one thing—when my hope and my faith got on track, my “issues” with love dissolved. Suddenly, love in all it’s forms swelled inside me. And I don’t have to receive love back in order to love. That bird may or may not know how I feel love when he sings. He’s probably looking for a worm to chase anyway. I do know that everyone wants to be loved and should be loved. You deserve to be who you are and loved for only that. Chasing something you are not is a sure way to escape feeling connection and love.

Be who you want to be but never sacrifice who you are for it. That’s the only way love in its many forms can get inside. And, lastly, it’s always, ALWAYS worth the risk. ~ ❤ ~

Father’s Day is a mixed emotion for me. Mostly, I celebrate that I have a good dad and that my brother is one hell of a father too. I reflect on everything these two guys do year round that doesn’t get a thank you. Most importantly, you’re there for me. I love you Daddy and Austin. You’re the best.

I also am not-so-subtly reminded I don’t have any celebration in my own life. I admit, that kinda haunts me.

I wish I could have planned a lunch, a gift, a cake, or any other surprise for my baby daddy but alas, I’m not there yet. I issued the standard apology to my ovaries for no baby daddy in sight but promised someone awesome is bound to be just around the corner. It’s not nearly as depressing as Mother’s Day, which is a cultural shame creator that serves to remind me I haven’t taken the leap that most women have. But in the end, I can’t help but smile and remind myself how fun it is to be me today and trust God knows what he’s doing. Cause while I might be a little older than some of the moms, I’m gonna be so much smarter and have so many cool stories to tell my kids. And I figure everyone else will already know what to do when I won’t so I’ll have a huge support system 🙂

I can’t believe 2013 is halfway over.  It seems like it just started.  It’s been a combination of a fun year and one full of hard lessons.  All of which have opened me up to new experiences, new people, and learning more about myself.  I consider that invaluable.  I’m going to have say, based on the first half, 2013 is a hell of a good year despite the struggles. 

One noteworthy thing is that I’m taking 2013 off from being involved in theater. Now, I say that, but if I got asked to come help because someone had to quit or whatever, I might do it.  I miss my friends that I only see when I’m around BLT or GLT, but I really, REALLY, really love the time off.  Having a bunch of free time isn’t always a good thing for me.  For one thing, my mind tends to have spare room that I have a tendency to fill with worry or anxiety that has no place in my life.  But when you put a bunch of people together like that, drama offstage seems to also follow.  I’m much better dealing with my own problems this year instead of the ones others start.  Even if it doesn’t involve me, I can’t handle the pettiness.  I’m Switzerland. 

I changed my name in January.  That was a great thing.  It did things emotionally and psychologically I didn’t expect.  It’s odd I didn’t expect it because when I think about it, changing it to Cavender in 1999 was a big deal with emotional and psychological ramifications.  Naturally changing it back should have the same benefits.   I just didn’t really think that much about it when I did it. Truly it was like freeing a cage and letting the ghost of a broken marriage go away.  Now, I feel more like Apryl—daughter of Bennie & Becky, mean sister of Austin.  Apryl who once lived in a corn field, grew up on country music and still likes it, and who has so little common sense but loves to read.  Apryl who can make it on her own but understands she will never flourish without the help of others and who enjoys both parts of that equation of life.

I also lost my two closest friends this year.  It’s been the worst break up ever!  But I see now, looking back, I wasn’t living my best and authentic self to the world and even to them.  In fact, I hid in my friends.  They made it super easy—they are strong, opinionated, well-spoken, creative women! It was a natural slide into being a wallflower trying to avoid my pain and have them pick up some slack.  Problem is that I went through a couple months of really trying to bury me and the pains I was experiencing.  Lesson of 2013 that’s repeating—burying pain gives it a lot of power. Pain grows in the darkness.  Avoiding it only let it get bigger and bigger.  Ignoring it meant the roots weren’t ever addressed.  Losing my friends made me have to take a lot of time alone to figure out where I’d been, what I’d been avoiding, and looking at the parts of me that weren’t pretty and ultimately forgiving every crevice inside me before I can ever plan to do better.

I took another spontaneous vacation the week of Memorial Day.  I think I should start taking that week off work every year and do whatever I want.  It’s like internally my soul needs a break after 5 months.  I needed to bust out of town and get back to some inner peace.  It worked.  It was one of the most awesome weeks of my life.  I spent time with people I loved, nature, and God.  It doesn’t really get any better than that.  The worst part was that I had go back to work.

And let’s just address the issue of work.  I’m at a crossroads.  I should be grateful for my job.  I know this.  Everything I’ve ever been taught tells me so.  And I don’t want to be the bitch complaining about her super high salary and the stress that goes with it when there are millions who would give anything to have that stress and the money.  But after 11 years, I think change may be something worth investigating.  I’m not doing what I love to do, I’m not making a difference in anyone’s life, and (if you want to know the truth) I feel like I walk around with someone else’s dreams in my head and a sock in my mouth so I can’t say how I feel about it.  You do that 11 years and see how happy you are.  I can’t do it another 11.  And maybe this is what it takes to get over being scared and jumping into something new and passionate.  I’m not ready to die—I haven’t done half of what I plan to do in this lifetime.  Writing is my passion, it’s where I am 100% vulnerable and 100% Apryl. 

So, I think that summarizes the recap well enough.  I have another blog in mind on a subject that will get its own entry.  Stay tuned.