I’m sure a couple of people (3 at most) have been waiting on the post-vacation blog. Well, add some Primivito, and here it is. And, it’s relatively simple: I do not want to be here.

I do not want your Central Time Zone, your fast food, your non-recycling, your bathrooms that don’t have bidets, and your tv (along with the bill). I don’t want your wine. Or your whine! I don’t want your traffic in your SUVs, your cheap utilities, your cheap gas to fill the car, or your Walmart. I don’t want it. I do not want to be here.

Do not misinterpret: I love the USA. I do. It just isn’t where I want to be right now. Coming back was the most difficult thing I have done…& I have taken some difficult steps. But boarding a plane to come back to all this when I just wanted more of THAT…….well, nothing compares to that feeling of surrender and instinct.

Let me break it down: I’d give up this house, job, car, and all the above mentioned American luxury to have the sound of him whistling, laughing, snoring (yes dude, sometimes you snore), and cussing Italian drivers in my face. I have made my way here in MS and am grateful for it, but it’s the end of the line. In fact, as my friend James just reinforced to me, I am long overdue to get the heck out of here and start my new path. I’ll follow you mofos on Facebook and come back once in a while to see your beautiful faces, but I suddenly no longer feel this is home.

Why? What happened? Well, it’s easy: home is where the heart is. My home is not here because my heart is not. My heart is with a man stationed in Italy. While maybe he’s not entirely comfortable with that, I realized that I am. It has surfaced that he can be stationed anywhere, and that’s where I wanna be. It’s really as simple as all that. It is easy to stay where you’re comfortable and where you’re accepted. It’s easy to stay at the job that tries to break you and where the money deposits every two weeks, as agreed. But is it happy? Not anymore. Not as of the day that I was encouraged (and finally believe), more awaits. And I can succeed globally. I can go be the awesome “me” in any nation, language, or culture.

Because I adapt and appreciate. But today, I hate being here because I want to smell, feel, and hear HIM. Yeah, I know, you expected something more from me post-Italy. Believe me, sane writing is on the way. But at this moment, and all the ones since I got on the first plane out of Venice, I have just wanted to scream that I do not want to be here. I want to be with him. If that’s not possible–maybe he doesn’t reciprocate–than I will be honest and say that I will be starting down other paths. (Elusive and mysterious isn’t it? 😊) Stay tuned.

As of late, the ability to blog, journal, or even craft a theme for a work of fiction (my soul’s purpose on this planet) has completely escaped me.  It has been a tad worrisome.  I mean, if your purpose is missing, what’s left?  But, I had other things to occupy my mind and keep me busy so I decided just not to worry about it.  As with all things, when it’s meant to happen, it will. 

For TBT my dear Mom posted some early publications of the rambling teenage hippie brain which once occupied the space above my neck.  Was the newspaper back home desperate or what?   It was odd to see those because my only inspiration to write all week had been simmering in the back of my brain:  a letter from the old me (like an 80 year Apryl) to the me now.  What would she say?  What matters irking me today are truly important in the grand scheme of things?  I had given it some thought, but not a decent amount to produce anything.  And then, TBT hits and all I thought was, “Oh if I only had the chance to go back in time and talk to that girl!”  See, time travel has become an amusement of mine too as of late.  I watched “About Time” last night which only heightened my curiosity.  I have a lot I could say to a younger me.  But the tampering of the past could have a cause and effect that would be detrimental. 

If I went back in time and told young Apryl anything that could change her path, would she end up here?  Because, between those two articles posted for TBT, she met someone who was only a flash in her life overall (but a big deal at the time).  That person resurfaced and has now become a part of the adventure of life.  So….if I went back and helped teenage Apryl, would 35-year-old-Apryl end up so happy as I am at this moment? I’d have to spend time I really don’t have figuring that out.  And since my Delorian is in the shop, I’m screwed anyway!

Another prevalent thought,  brought up again by TBT articles and the lack of writing on my part lately, is the power of written word.  Today, I woke up with something profound (for me) changed inside.  As someone who has identified as a writer for the bulk of my lifetime, I tend to be a visual learner and I also have a core belief that the written word is particularly more weighty than anything else.  I’m hereby dispelling that belief today in this blog.  You go without the voice of someone for a while and suddenly to hear that voice is like hearing one of an angel.  It’s true for my niece, my nephew, my brother, friends who stop talking to you…anyone.  Those people can send you emails or texts but without their voice, it’s just not the same.  Me, the hermit-like girl who has always been fond of words and elected them over a voice, suddenly is floating on cloud 9 when I get to hear a voice. 

If you’d told me a year ago that I would come to value hearing someone over getting messages from them, I’d have looked at you like you had horns blossoming. In obvious places.  Like a unicorn.  I guess I just always saw writing as a craft and as a bit of therapy too.  I’m glad I haven’t beat myself up too much for not writing.  It turns out, I was just changing my beliefs.  No amount of messaging can replace the inflection and tone of another human’s voice.  And I see upon looking back, I’ve been awakening to that conclusion.  For example, when people’s drama hits Facebook or someone wants to start fighting via a text, I am always like “why are you putting that in writing?”  [Hint: for those of us who want to know, once you put it in electronic form no amount of deletion will really ever undo it and we will find a way to see it.  I’m not a hacker; I spied once some time ago and got the answers I already knew in my heart.  I spent a lot of money, worry, and time figuring out that the guy was a cheater and I was unhappy.  All that info said to me once I had proof was, “DUH.”  I knew it before I hacked into everything.  And I’ve been hacked and watched.  Yes, there’s really a way to see everything you do electronically.  Oddly enough, if the people hacking me had come to me and said, “Is this this & this true?” or, “how do you feel about this?” I would have been 110% honest.  They too wasted time and money getting the answers they already had. My point: if you’re living authentically and truthful to who you are, you have no reason to seek something else.  And, if you question someone else’s authenticity and honesty, you have to first decide if it’s your own insecurity or if you are in denial about them.  You don’t need a password to get that answer.]

A whole lot of time the last few months has been spent ignoring and sorting through those beasts inside all humans: my feelings. They say “don’t believe everything that you think” and I’ve battled that. What you think can produce some pretty amazing or pretty horrid feelings. Sifting through both is a challenge. Finding peace and coping through them has made me a different person. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.

One important lesson is learning to find our boundaries between where we start and end, and where others start and end. In fact, I can almost pinpoint that my entire life to this moment has been that lesson. And I do not mean to imply here that I’m done learning. Not at all. But I can say that through feelings like loneliness, uncertainty, doubt, fear, giddiness, and longing I have done a great deal of reflection on the matter and come to understand it a bit better.

I was watching the end of Undercover Boss and started getting all teary. But it was only the plug on some pretty deep stuff. The first thing is how incredibly useless I feel and that I am not making a difference in the world. That’s so huge for me. I want to help people. I also noticed earlier in the morning I heard a car and I stared out the window a bit too long. What’s that? I realized I was deep within myself thinking about someone as far away as one can be on the globe and wishing he were near. That’s some serious longing. I chastised myself for it. But then I realized, it is what it is. And it’s human. And it’s both powerful and scary. But I allowed myself to feel it and acknowledge it.

I have equally busied myself and numbed myself these months. My house is semi-organized and I cleared out a lot of crap. I have also watched seasons 1-8 of Friends. I actually started with season 10. So, yeah, getting lost in tv isn’t something I have done in years and years. It served a purpose. Otherwise, I could drive myself insane. You learn to wait. But I have pressured myself to wait “well”, as is customary. I don’t want to do anything “just ok”; it matters not what it is I like to do it great. I have to forgive myself for not doing it perfectly. This is a first. First attempts don’t have to be without their flaws. And it’s quite helpful to remind myself no one learns in the easy. Our deepest understanding and growth comes in times that push us. The key is not breaking. And being generous with myself.

It turns out I am far more selfish than I had realized. In some ways, that’s not all bad. I’ve had a history of the opposite in giving too much of my energy too quickly without proper thought. And that’s actually unfair to all involved, not just me. It took someone turning the tables to fully comprehend that. So some days I get overly wrapped up in myself and some days I get far too reliant. Balance. Oh you tricky and sneaky bastard. I’m gonna catch you!!!

I have reduced my cigarette smoking to about half a pack (yesterday it was 11). Now, I realize that’s not zero and many people have gone cold turkey (especially around New Years) and are doing much better. I just knew that if I was gonna do it, the reduction method was the only hope. Here’s two lies I told myself about smoking:
1. I smoke because I want to not because I have to. Liar. I had to because I used it as a means to escape stress. Before my divorce I had started/stopped many times. But after, it slowly became an addiction. I am addicted to getting away from my desk before I go insane, waking up slow and easy most days, and basically just needing a moment to myself to sit and think. Because without cigarettes, it’s unlikely I would have accomplished that. However, I’m finding I CAN do some of that with an ecig or without anything. My hands still want something to do. And my cravings for food are fierce.
2. Second lie–I could stop at any time. Honestly, I thought I’d be a Mom by now and when I got pregnant I’d stop. Well, Mr. Right is elusive and there ain’t no baby in sight. The clock is winding down on that. And people stop telling me how many women you know over 40 had healthy babies! Usually this was an addition to their herd for one, and not the start up venture. Additionally, I just don’t wanna be the person whose 60+ at my kids high school graduation. I mean, until the last couple years I had no plans to really live beyond that. I kinda figured I’d be out of here by 65 tops. Luckily I’ve figured out how freaking awesome it’s gonna be to be the old lady who can finally be quirky and have all the fun in the world without giving a shit what anyone thinks. And after retirement I can spend time doing whatever I want! So bring it. Anyway, point is, spinster life minus cigarettes is starting to finally appeal (& sink in that could be one way life turns out that I never expected).

Quitting is just like losing weight in that I have had to reframe everything in my mind, my perception of myself, and change how I cope with factors in life. It’s not so easy but I’m halfway to my goal. Also, I’m vain and want my skin and teeth to look better. Smoking is the #1 thing I can stop to make that happen, but we all know the various incentives to not smoking. I didn’t realize how hard it would be. Congrats to the people who have reached and maintained the non-smoker status!

Inside me, there is a part of me that aches. I don’t think that makes me different than anyone else. The only thing I see different amongst people is how they fill the voids and whether or not they acknowledge that it exists. The ache, hurts, & longings vary from person to person but the bond we all share is that something has touched us and we have to heal. Even the most enlightened have perhaps filled their own tragic past with love and yet they continue to teach there is more to give to the world to bring us healing. So if you heal the wound inside you, basically one opens up for all the people you see fighting their battles.

I spent most of the morning and some of the night cleaning up dog poop. Not only are her legs wearing out and her skin ravaged to the point it bleeds sometimes, now my Chloe has something wrong with her intestines. Oh the number of times I’ve prayed to God to take her in her sleep so she no longer feels any of it. Just one of the myriad of her health issues makes my heart ache. Combined all at once, it breaks me. I look over and see my best friend, child, and arch nemesis all in one. No one can trick me, boss me, or make me feel as loved as this little dog has over the course of almost 13 years now.

I think my ex husband thought if he got me a dog I would shut the hell up about having kids. And he was right, briefly. It bought us some time to stew individually and avoid talking about the fact we wanted different things. So I sunk the first few weeks of having Chloe into spoiling her and loving her like she was a newborn. I was in a brand new place, unpacking boxes in a new house, and didn’t know anyone but Shawn. He had to go on base everyday and he made friends; I bonded with her and was quite content. She was an easy puppy to love.

As we got older our lives changed. I had a job, we lived in the “country” much to my dismay, and both Chloe and I were no longer the social creatures we got to be in base housing. Now add to that some resentment building in our home between me and the ex, and Chloe truly became my main reason for going home each night. It was she who would follow me around (or lead me most often) and snuggle up to me. I was in denial I had big problems. My aches and voids have never been as big as they were in the year or two before the divorce. Now, can we please have a Category 5 hurricane hit so that everythingchanges in life? Ok, thanks God.

I think Shawn hurt Chloe after I left. Because even though it was only a few weeks before I got a house and moved her in with me, neither of us were the same. We both grew not to trust guys so much for the most part. A few key friends play a role during that time and now I consider them family. Fred, Tim, Pops Wiesle, Phil, Chaddy….you know who you are. Notable most of those guys were also well liked by Chloe too. Every guy I just named kept Chloe and I safe on more than one occasion. Oh she would bark and growl and so would I in my own little ways but those guys up there saw right through us both and just silently and gently let us figure out what we needed to know and rebuild our life without Shawn. What a messy time. Good times for sure, but messy and full of hard growth.

And we got older, Chloe and I. 30 hit. Shit got real. We sped up in some ways and slowed down in others. I think that’s when we learned to watch tv again and not always go and do something or be somewhere or make something happen. We had a new house, this one with my name alone on the mortgage (did you know a dog cannot finance a house?! WTF). More men, more ache. And then, they were all kinda gone. Oh, for sure there were relationships but now the last few years we’ve let very few enter our home and none stay long when they did.

Today, there’s a sick dog sleeping next to me. I think she knows more than anyone my holes and the quest I take everyday to not let it be the guiding force. In fact, I think that little dog fills it with so much love there is almost peace now. They say unconditional love is what dogs give. Naw. Naw man, that’s a lie. This little dog expects me to do a million little things and some pretty big ones, like feed, bathe, nurse and talk to her. We can’t play anymore. We can’t enjoy what we used to. So while our conditions do change and they certainly exist, we love each other right on through them. I think she’s taught me that: unconditional love doesn’t mean there aren’t standards of care, it means we hold on to love during any condition. See, for a long time, I had that all messed up in my head. Thanks Jerry McGuire.

And it only gets harder as conditions change. It doesn’t get easier. She’s taught me that as we age SOME stuff gets easier but in other ways it gets much harder. Like watching her age and hurt and decline. People are the same way. And I bet if she could talk, she would also say it’s hard to watch some stuff about me. The way I put myself out there and yet still hide. The way I taunt myself with some hope that love does exist and two people can grow old together (like she and I have). I bet that’s hard to observe. I know I won’t let anyone hurt Chloe but let me tell you, I’d lose a hand if I try to stop her from licking and biting her skin infection right now (tested, proved). She can’t stop me from dreaming no matter how much she tries. But she keeps on loving me.

I know I got real sentimental about my dog just now. Sorry if that bored everyone. I just know the longest relationship aside from family that has ever sustained is drawing near it’s end. And I am learning to let go and yet hold her closer all at the same time. God entrusted us to one another and I think we’ve done alright.

I like cars so I am going to proceed through this blog with a car analogy. Life-right now-feels like I’m stuck in neutral. And I hate that. I frickin frackin despise it passionately!

It isn’t like there’s a slow person in front of you and you had to go into 3rd to keep with the flow of traffic. No, that’s a distinctly different kinda frustration. Stuck in neutral is wanting to let off the clutch and floor that beast and get somewhere. Even if the landscape and traffic is shitty, at least there’s forward progress.

I woke up distinctly disappointed and frustrated. And then the little voice in my head starts in on how impatient and selfish I am; how I bring a how new level to the game of not being understanding. How I should have known better and seen this coming. Basically, how if I was a better person I wouldn’t be stuck in neutral at all. And, that history repeats so I am the most ignorant beast ever created to think otherwise. That little voice needs to go fuck itself!

But, as always, I am a zen master. There’s a lesson to be learned whether we see it or not. Oftentimes, you have to get completely out of the car before you comprehend what you saw on the last drive. At least I do. It’s my life’s goal to start seeing signs along the way and deal with it all in graceful fluidity. I’m not there yet. I’m stuck between the vast lessons of my past and the zen existence I aim towards. I guess it only lends to mean that being stuck in neutral is part of the lesson. What other answer is there? Also, I tend to overthink and take things personally that have very little, if nothing, to do with me.

I just want to find the right gear, hit the gas, and cruise! Funny thing is, I’m doing more cruising along than I give myself credit for. Areas of my life that were a mess are cleaning up quite nicely. But I’m ambitious and restless. I want to see more, feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my face, and the purr of a strong engine and sleek suspension as I go. Maybe I need to sit back and pay myself on the back for the accomplishments thus far and the ability to be lazy and rant on a blog.

They say the more you know the more life tests you. The stronger you are, the bigger the battle. Maybe I’m not stuck; perhaps I’m uncertain which gear would be the best and so I remain indecisive until the road conditions speak to me. I’m taking the time to think it all out and make good choices. While that’s rewarding in and of itself, it’s an uncomfortable change. Who’s that girl?! Maybe there is value in neutral. I mean, there’s a reason we have it and sometimes you use it.

If I can remind myself to be grateful and hopeful, I think I will find the gear and continue on. As I have done so many, many times before. I didn’t get here without being semi-awesome. And wherever you–my poor bored readers–are, keep in mind your own awesomeness got you there. As crappy or magical as it all has been, we got here. And that’s more than some can say.

Dear Me,
I’m writing this note to myself so that you will be liberated from your constant need to be anxious and/or worry about something. By 7am you have worried over a week’s worth of problems. And wanna know a secret? You don’t have any problem at all. Not one.

A problem is a death, a lack of necessary things like air, shelter, paychecks, transportation, or no ways to enjoy oneself. None of these problems are present in your life at the moment. So stop worrying, doubting, fearing and imagining the worst. Start counting your blessings and put that energy into something useful. Perhaps something like, oh I don’t know, trust and faith. Start there.

Trust yourself that you can handle what may or may not happen. Trust whatever shows up is what’s supposed to show up. You know you’re a complete package and you should trust yourself to be equipped to deal without giving energy and thought to endless possibilities, longing, and impatience.

Have faith if anything is meant to be then it will surely come. Faith in your dreams and faith in others. You are anything but broken. Get used to the feeling of being whole now. Rise up to the next level. You can let your worry go.

Love,
Me

I like waking up before the sun rises. I open my blinds and wait for the sun to start peeking over the rooftops of the neighbors houses. There is a stillness and calm between sleep and daylight that seems for a brief moment everything makes sense and I accept more than I question. I get more answers than puzzles pieces in these moments.

I’ve been pondering vulnerability again. Dr. Brene Brown asks in her book “The Gifts of Imperfection” what is vulnerability. This morning I think vulnerability is holding your heart in your hands out there for someone (or everyone) else to see; knowing that they could possibly rush you like a ninja with a sword (think the Japanese in The Wolverine) and shred it to a million pieces. Probably before you know what happened. That thought makes me squeeze up inside and makes my heart beat louder and quicker. It’s exposure far beyond what any X-rated movie could show. Cause it’s your innermost thoughts and feelings on display and looming out there. No wonder anxiety is the leading illness in our society. Not only does the ninja have the power to slice you up but he/she/they can text, Tweet, video, and possibly go viral with their shredding. Oh it’s almost enough to make one hide under the covers and never pull that vulnerability crap out again.

But everything is a process. At 35, I now know that no matter what your haters and your ninjas do to the information you give them, if my core is strong, I get to heal. The process of trying to find myself beyond that beating heart was served a cease and desist. Life does indeed break, shatter, and shut us down, but sometimes that’s when we get to learn who we really are. Do I want to lament or move on? Thwarting one dream does not mean death unless you can’t find another. I have faith that I can restore myself from any fight with a ninja and still manage to come through full of glitter and hope. It may take some time–and Lord knows time & patience are NOT my strongpoints–but I do have an abundance of gratitude and faith in the arsenal.

Iyanla Vanzant said everyone is serving time. It’s just that some of us are behind bars and some of us ain’t. We all are in some sort of transition; everybody has an unrecognized desire or dream tugging at them and manifesting. Me? I have two big ones. Now, can they develop? Well, one is to write. And by hitting the “publish” button (& living in a country where I’m allowed to ramble at length freely) I take one small step towards that dream. The other? It’s not ready for exposure. It too is merely a process.

In the meantime, I’m gathering myself. I try not to let the anxiety, doubt, and fear crush me. I try not to let a single moment, day, week, or shit maybe a month define the perimeters of my faith in what could manifest. I need baby steps sometimes. I know, that’s shocking to a lot of people who’ve known me. I am NOT a baby stepper by design. I am a leaper! I will jump in the deepest adventures and swim out later. I have been thinking the last several months that with some stuff, you miss a lot when you leap so far. Like missing the signs that say, “A ninja is about to rip you a new one if you jump here.” 😁 it goes against my natural urges to sit back, plan, and look at the road ahead before I let my brain go into 5th (actually, I’m more of a downshift and floor it kinda woman). I’m learning there’s quite a bit of perspective gained in a lazy little drive and it makes the meantime so much more fun.

My metaphors are getting out of control. Let’s land this blog before it gets weird. 😉

Life changes us one teeny, tiny moment at a time. Sometimes they slip by us and we do not notice. However, when we are paying attention, they can have a really big impact. I was doing my boredom thing today–Pinterest, Facebook, and reading a book; alternating back and forth–basically, my means for coping with the uneasiness I am feeling. And suddenly, in just a fraction of a second, it hit me: I needed to be grateful for the uneasiness. Yep, I suddenly thanked the Divine for it.

Instantly I perked up. Why? Because I am sincerely grateful for uneasiness and painful moments. THOSE are the ones that mean you are growing, change is coming to you, and live is evolving. Sure I felt most alive when I walk down Broadway or stared in awe at the Grand Canyon. Those are moments too. Those are moments it’s easy to be grateful.

But what about the moments it took to say something hard to someone? To feel defeated, guilty, used and alone? Did those moments not mean just as much when I overcame them? Yes, they did. What about the uncertain times when I had to learn to pray, trust, and hope? Don’t those most unpleasant moments release our faith? I think they do. Why shouldn’t I be grateful for the times that I know something better is in the works? I can’t find a reason.

I am sincerely grateful and give praise to the times that teach me how to be a better person. To appreciate my health and my body, as imperfect as it may be. To appreciate that someone far away is breathing and is ok. To appreciate the anxiety about changing my home around because it means the clutter and disorder are no longer tolerable to me. To let the new give way and throw the old off like a to-do list that’s complete. These are hard things but when I stop to listen, I recognize that they are pretty clear signals that while I felt nothing was happening, in fact, many things are changing. And change can be difficult and I am forgetting how truly fulfilling it can be when we turn around and see where we once were.

I am heading in a direction that’s new to me but oh so very welcome. So maybe a little patience with myself is needed. All that uneasiness is a sign that things are about to get real awesome. For that, I am so grateful.

Sometimes I just wanna cry like a little girl. Yup. There, I said it. And then, I don’t do it. Maybe I’d feel better if I did. Maybe I need a good, long cry. Stuff is building up inside and that’s never good. I’m becoming lazy and eating more. Also NOT good. Not after all the work I put into losing all that weight. I have come too far to let fear and insecurity or sadness bring me down (or up on the scale, whichever way you wanna see it).

I like action plans. There is no action plan that I can formulate to combat time and distance. Those elements are unstoppable opponents. They win. So I guess it’s what we do during the time and with ourselves when we cannot see the people we love. Maybe it’s important that I realize–for once–time and distance haven’t always been my enemy. In fact, looking back on 35 years, I’d say everything happened in the most perfect timing even if it didn’t feel like it when it was happening. Every event was a stepping stone to get me to today. And someday, the days I now begin to loathe will be the steps that led me somewhere else. So I know in my head it makes no sense to try and speed it up or get very anxious about closing the gap. It just is. Maybe I anticipate my trip to Italy so much because it means the end to the wait. But it may could only be the beginning of another long wait now couldn’t it? And that’s about the crappiest thought I damn near have ever had.

But say that is the case–& who knows, mere speculation at this point–I better get real damn comfy with this waiting and distance now shouldn’t I? Hmmm. Never thought about that. Something to ponder. Either way, time to surrender that it is what it is. Maybe it’s turning 35, my hormones, the holidays, the unrelenting stress, watching my dog needing picked up more and walking less. Maybe it’s more. Or maybe it’s all of these and something you can’t ever figure out. Life isn’t a logic puzzle to solve. Much of it doesn’t make sense until it’s over. One day I may look back and realize I had nothing to cry about anyway.

Because really, how much would I change even if I could? Who am I to believe that if somehow time and distance weren’t factors, I would be better off? These lessons life teaches, they don’t come easy. But they do come. I am impatient and what if I’m being cleansed of that (one episode of Friends at a time). I tend to believe that “in the meantime” can be quite valuable if used well. I started being crafty. I like that. I’m watching every season of Friends again. I like it. I’m spending a good deal of time with Chloe. I don’t know how much longer we got so I like that. Maybe someone else out there needed whatever all this time and distance provides. And if so, then I like people getting what they need.

I guess this wasn’t the jolly holiday post one would expect but then again, nothing is ever what we expect. And hell, I kinda like that too. 😁