Over the last three months or so, I have become an expert in gratitude. Yeah, I loosely use the word expert. However, my evolving practice has made a serious impact in my life. It starts small, but once it becomes a habit you practice throughout your day, you cannot help but feel joy. I wonder how many people out there would feel better by incorporating a gratitude ritual?

It doesn’t happen all at once. It’s taken me time. Much to my surprise, I’ve developed a lot of patience. We get so wrapped up in our world of instant gratification that it can be dangerous. Take my habit of googling. If I come across a word I don’t know, I can’t help but google it. I used to google anything I heard of that I didn’t know. Mid-conversation, in-person! I’d stop paying attention to someone and begin googling. Mostly I’ve tried to stop that and just look at the person and ask, “What does _____ mean?” That frames things differently. For one thing, you really are being present with the person speaking and instead of looking like a know-it-all, I expose my ignorance. It’s a vulnerable position indeed. Well worth the payoff. We want knowledge, answers, and issues to be black or white instantly. Big lesson: technology can advance to as far as our imagination will allow, and you will still need to let life run its course.

My joy has increased in small doses, with lots of practice. It started with taking in moments and trusting there is a process to this thing called life. I have to chill out and let it unfold. “Time takes time” was some good advice I received this year. It took time for me to understand that. Expectations and foreboding had to be forgotten. I had to REALLY open myself to understanding situations will not be predictable and my control over them is not left to me. Once I was not so busy trying to remain in control of Earth, my mind was clearer.

I started appreciating people. When they opened up to me, when they asked for help, and other various positions that requires people to put their armor down and ask for what they need. It was a trait I began to examine and test out for myself. Uncomfortable at first and still not something I’m great at doing, but I show signs of improvement. I try to say thank you more to people. I want them to see their value. I decided I couldn’t post a bunch of inspirational pics on Facebook and then be disgruntled towards my co-workers. I had to lead by example. I’ve tried very hard to move in that direction. Once I crossed these thresholds, there was a lot more room for a grateful heart to grow.

It may be hard some days. I may not always appear grateful. Sometimes, when I’m pretty depressed, I have to start small. Like REALLY small. EX: I get toe cramps for some reason. I’ve literally had moments where I’m laying in bed crying for some silly thing that means a lot to me and had to start my gratitude with, “at least my toe isn’t cramping.” Then I might have to look around and say, “I’m grateful Chloe isn’t in pain.” My list grows. I’m grateful for my books to read, I’m grateful I have hands to write, I’m grateful my neighbors look out for me, I’m grateful for the posters on the wall, I’m grateful for my vacation, I’m grateful for my ottoman so my feet are comfortable, I’m grateful I had money to pay the bills even if it means eating bologna until next payday. Somewhere out there in this world is someone who doesn’t have any of that and their most earnest prayer is that they get what I have. Once you start doing that everyday, you then recognize moments and give gratitude in them. I saw a glorious starry sky in May—the most captivating night sky I can remember. And in that very moment, I knew to be thankful.

As readers know, I’ve struggled with faith and self-image. Today, I can say my faith is at an all time high and for once, I love myself totally. For that, I am grateful.

I think some bloggers plan out what to say and really craft it.  Not this one. And, this is a BLAHG anyway.  I have about as much idea as what will spew forth as you do.  Ok, I have a clue but still, you just never know.

The only reason I write tonight is because it’s been a while, both on the blahg & off.  I can’t have that.  Feelings, ideas, and lingering odors of the soul start building up.  Sorry for the people who didn’t want to waste the next 3.5 minutes but I have to purge.  Here’s what’s first on my mind: relationships.  Oh, that’s a shocker, I know.  But what is shocking is that I’ve made it a goal that every time I start going down that path of what I do (or rather, DON’T) have, I am going to shift my focus to writing.  Whether it be scribbling down a line or two, working on a story, or even just journaling whenever I want to focus on a dude, writing it shall be.  So be wary of the blahg until I get the hang of it.  I’m not sure if it’s going to be sad or happy, loving or hateful for the next little bit.

And, on a side topic, I’ve gained 6 pounds (which is a loss of 2 lbs since I noticed the size 4s were not going over my ass no matter how much I tugged).  Now, 6 lbs is not a huge deal, I know & people keep telling me to stop losing weight as if I’m trying!  But that’s not the issue.  The issue is that I’m an emotional eater.  It is extremely effective as a distraction to feelings but the side effect is weight.  Plus, when I’m emotional and avoiding it I’ll eat all kinds of bad, energy-draining foods.  Since it took me over 10 years to figure it out, it’s a big deal when I see it.  Now, when a craving comes on, I have to stop and ask, “what am I feeling?”  The answer is typically stress or sadness.  I’m prescribed xanax but I quit taking it during the day, especially at work.  That’s a whole other blahg.  Perhaps many.  Needless to say, FTS—It’s effective as hell but I don’t want another addiction.  So here I am, off the meds and eating.  Goal? [I mean, WTF would I do that?!] Combat stress and sadness without aid.  Old fashioned deep breathing, taking a break, and allowing myself to feel. 

With that comes some acceptance and self-forgiveness.  It can take anywhere from ten seconds to ten days to come to terms with stuff.  My job?  I would rather be writing.  But it drains me mentally and leaves little afterward.  But like I said, I’m making it a habit to be more “writer conscious” in lieu of sadness, specifically over a scarcity in my life known only as “love.”  And really, I have to kind of smile about that.  Only recently have I been pretty serious about it being time to settle down and start a family.  And I’m such a hard-headed control freak I seem to want to do something about it.  And I have.  I haven’t been taking dating so lightly.  Which means, knowing me, I’m taking it too seriously.  And putting FAR too much focus into it.  And therefore, failing to count the many blessings that are all around me.  Today I watched the sunset and it was absolutely brilliant.  Are Texas sunsets this gorgeous?  I don’t remember them being as charming.  But then again, the sound of the sea and your feet in the sand makes any moment more memorable and sweet. 

Anyway, that’s the end I guess.  For now.

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.

Memorial Day is one of those holidays that has mixed feelings for me. I’m a patriot, I love this land, I am humbled some gave all so I can sit here and type. It also brings up a few very awkward things. I’m so emo…

First, I tear up because I should have been in the Air Force. I enlisted but didn’t get the job I wanted. I cried so hard as I signed up. I was angry I couldn’t do what I had planned. So maybe things would have ended the same no matter what. However, I met a man I ended up calling my husband between then and my ship date. I backed out from the Air Force. Did I back out for him or me? Had I gone in, would I have came to Biloxi and stopped here anyway?? I was so angry at 19 to think about sitting behind a desk the rest of my life and yet….I would have been better off doing so for our country than for, well let’s just say, the ones I served anyway. Would I have met someone else? Found love out there? I would have soaked up seeing the big world. I would have excelled no doubt. And probably ended up an officer. Or maybe I’d have served a few years, got married, and have a minivan and three teenagers by now. So Memorial Day is the day I hear it should have been you out there. I should have served. I should have been one of them. Not even for this country but for me! Selfish but true.

Then, of course, when I wake up and thank God for all those who did or are serving the country, I think of Shawn first. It’s far better than it once was. I didn’t go into the AF because we met. What a wild ride that was! Those wounds are finally healed. But the memories remain. To the one man who I have loved more than all others, thank you. Thank you for loving me, bringing me here, and teaching me more than anyone. Wherever you are, may you be safe and happy and loved today while celebrating with your kids.

Then, finally, there is one more person that surfaces this day. I must respect his privacy but all I will say is that not all wounds of war are those you can see. Strangely, I’d take a hit if I thought it would calm you inside. If I could take a bullet, lose blood, go through rehab and God would somehow stop the nightmares and other hell you sometimes battle, I wouldn’t think twice about going to do it. Those who come back from battle have more inside them than any other soul. Today, if you do nothing else, respect that. Remember that for the rest of your life when you meet a vet. And hey, you did a good job.

So that’s my Memorial Day. And this year I have even more to try to forget when I drink and eat.

One of the most complicated individuals I know told me that. It’s also a tattoo that person wears. The simple thought “if it were meant to be then it would” crossed my mind a few moments ago. And when I was thinking how “simple” that is, I remembered the “Simple is Beautiful” tattoo. I have a desire so deep for something simple. Faith, hope, love… A million people have those “simple” words all over their homes. I am not one of them. For I find them to be the hardest and most complex experiences of this life.

Do I over analyze and make things harder than they have to be? Yes. Catastrophism, cognitive distortion, and my very favorite depression are things that have come up in my therapy. You can change negative thinking but depression is a whole other beast. And look what I did just now? I made it a beast instead of a cockroach in my mind. What if I merely thought, “well it’s an obstacle but its nothing I can’t get through and go on with joy”? But I don’t. I wonder if its a huge gash on my soul or if I just see it worse than it really is? It needs tending to, but maybe a little TLC instead of surgery ya know? No, you probably don’t know. I got way off track.

I will say something that has weighed heavy on me and that is when my depression creeps in and starts getting the best of me, it is at that time I truly want a knight in shining armor to come save me. Make me a damn Disney movie and stereotype me and strip my independence down. I know it’s pathetic and believe me since I have realized it I am ashamed. Would I want my daughter and my niece to live that way if they were in this position? Maybe. Maybe I would. Maybe I would indeed want them to find a mate to go through the ups and downs with. For sure, yes. Playing the damsel in distress is just ehhhh and lame. But, at times, that really is what goes on. I want a prince. Problem is that I’m at my worst right now and it’s hard to impress a guy worth having when you aren’t at your best! My eharmony profile catch line is not gonna be “desperate and needy”!! Lol.

I know this too shall pass. It could be in as little as an hour or a day. And I firmly believe in some simple truths. They hurt at times and I fight it like crazy but bottom line is that if a prince was meant to be here to help me through it then he would be. God has me in this spot, in the pain, and alone for his reasons. Those simple concepts are the most beautiful thing on the planet. It doesn’t feel simple because I want to alter it but if I take a step back and look at the whole picture, it’s easier to see. And whatever happens it is guaranteed to be beautiful. Everything around us and all our painful lessons can be beautiful. Simple is so beautiful to me because it is fleeting. Because so little is ever simple.

Forgive yourself for every failure. Cause you tried to do the right thing. God knows that and you know it. Nobody else may know it. Maya Angelou

I admit, I get off course and go askew often in life.  Relatively frequently.  In fact, it’s like my whole life as been a blurry drunken walk.  I stumble around sometimes like an idiot. Metaphorically, yo.  But I’ve had some revelations today.

*GUILT.     Let’s start with the Funyuns.  I grabbed a bag of Funyuns for a snack today.  Now, most of you know I went from almost 150 lbs in Jan to 117 now.  One of the things I gave up–with rare exceptions–are potato chips and fries.  I added fries in but only once a week usually and in small quantities.  Today, I took down that snack size bag of Funyuns like the inner fat girl I am.  And the guilt started in the middle of the bag and only swelled until afterwards until I was a complete failure inside my brain.  As sad as it is, the real epiphany came a couple hours later when I realized a bag of Funyuns will inflict guilt, but not giving someone space when they ask for it [something I’ve bitched and ranted and hated on sooooo many times in this blog its seriously not even funny] did not cause guilt.  I thought about that for a minute.  I got to get my priorities straight.  Damn.  Failed myself but glad I got the lesson.  Thank you Funyuns.  It made me think of the other things I’d been a little selfish about.  And how many times I wouldn’t be my own friend lately.  FTS.  I’m awake now.  And getting back to the things that make me whole, not cut me into broken shards of a human scraping by.  Jesus, take the wheel! *And for the record, those surprise knocks on the door have made my entire 2013 incredibly awesome.  Least I could do is respect the person who lit me up like that.  So no matter what I don’t “get”, I got that moment. Which leads to….

*LOVE     I’ve become pretty tight lipped on my “love” life.  It shall remain that way but the adage “better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” is true.  I wouldn’t trade one moment of the good times if I had known how pathetic and lame I’d ended up.  I’d let my heart open, twist, and bleed the same way (twice) for the moments.  Which leads to….

*LONELINESS.       I just passed a mirror in the house while putting something away and coming back to write and the thought struck me, “I’m alone because I chose to be.”  Maybe not consciously designed, but fact is, I’m a lot.  I’m a whole lotta woman. Not many men are out there strong enough to handle it. Part of it is insanity (perhaps…aka genius) and part of it is I just have expectations. I got a pretty rocking bod these days compared to what it used to be and really, I don’t have to be alone any night of the week if I didn’t want to be.  So why am I?  Because I don’t want just anybody.  If it helps, I made a list of traits I want in a man tonight in therapy and therein lies the answer.  I’m not going to settle down with the wrong guy, but I sure date a lot of the wrong ones. Therein lies part of the problem.  And no offense meant to any former flames, but obviously we didn’t mesh on that level.  I have a full life of good friends (some of those former flames are my best friends), a demanding job, a sick dog, and hobbies that include commitments a few nights a month at minimum.  I’m whimsical, sometimes very bored, I speak my mind, and I will read a book before enduring some lame conversation.  I’m crazy but in the harmless way and when I go for something, it’s real and it’s 100%.  But I don’t do that very often at all.  You gotta be strong, outspoken, smart, unafraid, and make me feel safe to get me to open up.  Bottom line: loneliness is a choice because I don’t need anyone, but I do want someone.  Looking in all the wrong places might need to be pondered soon.  Until then, so much character development research for my best selling novel is being gathered and lots of hope he’s out there and will similarly know what he’s missing when he sees it. 🙂

I’m a better, happier person than I was yesterday.  And I’m going to continue on that track until I get it right.  Until then, excuse the drunken stumble or at least hold my hair.  And expect some F. Scott Fitzgerald-epicness.

I was super excited to go see Great Gatsby a couple weekends ago.  It was a great movie.  I have always been a fan of F. Scott Fitzgerald.  He has a way wrapping life in the most eloquent, and often tragic, ways.  He was a poignant, aggravated soul.  My greatest accomplishment would be to write on that caliber, just once!  I’ve collected many of his quotes and decided today is the perfect day to post them. Enjoy.