I'm Okay

Not working in the daycare kitchen created a strange surprise yesterday. I was walking through the store when I came upon a Campbell's Soup display. There on the shelf was the elusive Campbell's Chicken Gumbo Soup. My mom had a recipe for making Sloppy Joe's with just the thing, so I bought two cans of soup, a package of hamburger rolls, and a couple pounds of ground beef. Maybe this cooking break at work will work to Hannah's advantage.

I woke up feeling ill this morning. Headache. Queasy stomach. (Probably from the headache.) I went downstairs for a cup of tea and something to tame the headache, listened to church online, and went back to sleep for half an hour or so. When I next awoke the headache had dissipated and I found functioning possible.

My car goes into the shop Tuesday. I'm borrowing a car from my cousin for the next couple of days and hoping my own will be back to feeling like herself again soon. *fingers crossed* 

I took my cousin's car for a ride down to the lake this afternoon so that I wouldn't be driving it for the first time tomorrow morning. Our glass hunting sandbar is pretty much gone. The rains from last week's nor'easter washed it out into the lake and opened the creek to brown trout, steelheads, and salmon. Good for both fish (maybe) and fishermen. I snagged a few pieces of glass from what used to be the sandbar and snapped a few pictures. 

Down toward the road and on the opposite side of the creek from the parking lot I found a woman fishing. "I know you," she said, and I answered, "You do?" She asked if I used to homeschool and then told me her kid's names. Nothing was familiar at all except her eyes and her voice. "What's your name?" I asked her, and that was when I knew that we didn't know each other from homeschooling at all. It was CoDA. We chatted for a bit, then she went back to her fishing and I went to Target.

It's Halloween night. When I was a little girl the streets of this small neighborhood were filled the costumed children, but in recent years the crowd has been pretty thin. Even so I bought a couple bags of candy this afternoon, just in case. It's 6:20pm and I've had three children come by so far. I'm here by myself so it's kind of nice having a little company, even if they don't stay more than 20 seconds. 

Oh, yeah. Yesterday afternoon I cleaned off my shelf at the pottery studio. I'm just throwing money away (or making a huge donation) by keeping it. I never go outside of taking a class, so there's really no reason to keep it. I'm feeling a peace about it this time that I didn't have at the beginning of the year. I still love playing in the mud, but I'm thinking it's going to go in a new direction. Stay tuned to find out, along with me, what that means.

Truth is Hard To Swallow

Forgive me a heavy post while I sort my thoughts...

My biggest regret in life is inadvertently teaching my children to tolerate and accept abuse. My greatest heartache is seeing the effects of my failure to teach them otherwise. I thought I was teaching them love and forgiveness. I somehow thought they would automatically and instinctively know what abuse looked like. I didn't realize they would come to view it as "normal." Instead of teaching them to choose healthy relationships, I modeled enabling, and I failed to protect them when they were abused. How often did I bite my tongue in order to avoid escalating a situation? How many times did I cover for him because of my own fear or embarrassment? How regularly did I tell myself "It isn't that bad" or "It could be worse"? Why didn't I realize how deep and long-lasting are the wounds of spiritual, emotional and mental abuse? How did I come to believe the lack of physical evidence equated the lack of actual abuse? How did I slip into focusing only on what was good in our family when in actuality so much was out of line?  The price is astronomical.

Today I have a divorce, but it took extenuating circumstances to get us here. I didn't arrive in this place without an incredible amount of inner conflict. It has been incredibly painful on every side. I have felt the crippling inability to respond, the suffocating agony of straddling disbelief and acceptance, and the fear of losing everything I loved including my relationship with my children. I have both kept silent and shared secrets, attempted to gloss over pain as well as expose it, and to be honest about our issues while not tearing down the other. It's an impossible balance and I fall multiple times on a daily basis. Sometimes I have a painfully difficult time getting up to try again.

When I walked away from my marriage, it was my desperate hope to set an better example for my children, but they were already grown. I finally saw a boundary that had to be enforced, even though there had been boundary crossings trampled long before. (Sometimes it takes my breath away when I realize the extent of what I have tolerated.) I am finally beginning to understand why outsiders are so furious with the "non offending" parent, even though I understand her place because I am her.

Where do I go from here? What can I do? It is impossible to travel back in time and do life over again, to make better past choices myself and set better past examples. I'm struggling to not make excuses for the younger me, while at the same time realizing that the younger Martha did the best she knew how to do. This is a painful process full of icky feeling emotions. My hands feel dirty but no matter how many times I wash them, I can't seem to get them entirely clean... And just when I feel utterly hopeless, God steps in to remind me that there is always hope with Him. I don't have to be an enabler. I can make better choices for the future. I can heal from codependence. I can be a better mom, grandmother, and friend.

A Little Bit of This Week

 I'm growing and learning every day. Growing can be painful. As much as I don't like pain, it is an incredible motivator.

I woke up 45 minutes late this morning and had no time for my daily shower. I washed as quickly as I could and ran out the door without shampooing my hair. I had two appointments after work with no time to come home in between, or so I thought. My duties were over 15 minutes early, giving me just enough time to run home and wash my hair before heading out.

Chiropractor. He gives me my weekly hug along with a spinal adjustment. Today I asked him if feet make the back hurt or the back makes the feet hurt. My ankles have been bothering me since I came home from the beach... He asked a few questions, scoffed at my flip flops, and gave me a card for a pedorthist. "You won't call. I can tell," he said. Pish! I don't like sore feet. Maybe I'll call them tomorrow.

Therapist. It was a good talk. He asks hard questions and makes me think. He suggests doing things that go against what I naturally tend to do. He helps me look inside to see where my thoughts need to change. He encourages me to let others own their own feelings, and not to take on what isn't mine to carry. This is hard because I naturally carry the hurts, emotions, and responses of others. It doesn't mean I should lose all empathy, but it does mean I need to let go of what isn't mine. Things I learned in CoDA.

On Monday evening I found myself home alone. The lake has been stinky with the yearly die-off of small fish, and so I decided to take my camera and go to another place I love. I headed for the woods. It was a lovely evening, the smell of honeysuckle heavy in the air. I walked a familiar trail and took pictures as I went. Along the way a few bikes passed, and a man and woman walked together. I was not completely alone. My prize photo opportunity was a Pileated Woodpecker finding dinner in a downed log. It was quite fabulous!

Every Day's an Adventure

I went out the door this morning only to discover my car was deader than a door nail. Had to open the door with my key, and then found the driver's side was the only door I could unlock. The battery was so dead that the power locks wouldn't work. I might have a jumper cable in the back of the car, but if I do it is buried underneath my snow tires (Nope, they're not on the car yet.) which were locked in the back of the car. I am grateful for my son in law who came out to help me jump start my vehicle with his own jumper cables. What would I do without him? (Probably miss church while waiting for Triple A to show up.)

I knew the battery probably wouldn't be charged well enough by the time I got to church, but I parked anyway and went inside, already late for the service. Probably should have backed into the space or pulled all the way through... When I came out to start it up after church it went "rrr" when I turned the key, but the battery didn't have enough juice to turn the engine over. I can't say I was terribly surprised, just somewhat inconvenienced.

My sister Rachel and her husband were still at church in a class. I knew Dave could help me when Sunday school was over, so I went back inside. I don't know the mind of God or what He is up to, but things did not go well inside... Or maybe they went exactly as they were supposed to. I guess only time will tell...

The perfect storm had been brewing. It started last Sunday when the leader who asked me to leave the CR Step Study back in April interrupted my conversation with a former CoDA friend, sent her to do a job, and then gave me a trite apology. Storm clouds gathered yesterday morning when I met an old homeschooling mom friend for lunch. She mentioned possibly going to Celebrate Recovery and I told her not to go to the one at my church. Thunder rumbled when a short time later I ran into one of my former CR Step Study members in the grocery store and felt the all too familiar unease that often comes when I stop to talk with someone from the group. A stiff wind blew this morning when I returned to the church lobby and ran into the CR leader again. She gave me another apology for interrupting last week and said "I didn't realize you were deep in conversation," but her apology sounded far from sincere.

I'm not even sure how it happened, but all the pent up anger over what happened back in April and the distance I now feel from former friends came rushing out. "I'm sorry you feel that way," she said and I found myself feeling invalidated and even more angry. There were words. Loud words.

The storm has dissipated now, although I still hear thunder in the distance. The air feels cold and damp. I know God is still here beside me and that He loves me. Maybe there is something for which I need to ask His forgiveness in all of this, but tonight I don't know what it is. I only know He put me exactly where He wanted me to be. He let things appear a little out of control, and then put a familiar person there to help settle my heart and thoughts. This person listened to my heart's cry and said, "I wish I knew what to say..." and you know, that meant a lot because she took the time to listen even though she didn't know how to help.

And then Rachel and Dave came out of Sunday school. Dave helped me jump start my car and we stopped at Walmart and bought the very last battery that fit my car and he changed it for me while Rachel and I went to visit our Brother Tim.

Stuffing Envelopes

More word pictures...

Was talking with the Cabinet Maker this evening about character defects and missing pieces, and I mentioned how as a child I never learned the skill of conflict resolution. I told him that I learned to stuff envelopes. I would simply put that grudge or resentment into an envelope, lick the flap, stick it shut, and put it away. With the envelope sealed and filed, I didn't have to deal with the issue. Or so I thought...

I have spent much of the past few years sorting through envelopes. Picking them up, turning them over, but only very rarely breaking the seal and dumping the contents. When I ran into the situation with my step study leaders, I didn't want to silently slip the conflict into an envelope, seal it up, and tuck it away. All those piled up envelopes are a fire hazard! This time I have purposed to deal with the conflict in what I hope to be a healthy way instead. I know that will entail another meeting with the leader. It is painful growth.

So, yeah. I went out to the house from work tonight. We have a monumental task ahead of us. Cleaning out the house and barns can't be done in a day or two. We need weeks, and a few are all we  have, so I am going to be spending a significant amount of time in Williamson sorting through mountains of stuff. And so will James. Your thoughts and prayers are appreciated.

PS. No more chickens... A neighbor- hood dog ran off with the remaining hen last week. Made James sad.
:0(

Resurrection Day

Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: 
“I have seen the Lord!” 

And she told them that he had said these things to her. 

John 20:18

Early church service followed by breakfast with James at the little diner in the Webster village. No further plans at the moment. No family gathering. No Easter egg hunt. My sister mentioned a late dinner, so maybe I'll take her up on the offer. 

I had a good long weekend, but Sundays have tended to be emotional lately. I am learning to walk through it, rather than crawl or refuse to face it altogether. Last Sunday when I met the CR leader in the hall and she asked if she could hug me, I said, "No, not today." I wasn't there yet. The pain was still too raw. This week I let her give me a hug and I hugged her back, but I told her, "I'm still not there." I'm not ready to sit down and talk it out. I'm not one to harbor grudges or hold onto resentments, but I've not been one to work through them in a healthy way either. I typically run from confrontations like this, smooth them over, and struggle alone and in silence with a fake smile on my face. Now I'm "entirely ready" to have God remove this defect of character. I am not looking for confrontation, but the conflict resolution that comes as a result. Maybe one day soon we can sit down and talk.

The little Garden Tomb... I've always wanted to do something like that with my kids. The build up to Easter Sunday and the empty tomb has been missing from our Resurrection Celebrations. Maybe next year the grands and I can work on something like this.

The Promise of Spring

Spring is gaining strength and winter is waning. Yesterday we had a few snowflakes in the air. This morning we had a fire drill and during the afternoon the children played outside in short sleeves. Tonight I am sitting at my little desk, once a wedding gift to my maternal grandparents, with the window open. The birds are singing their evening song and my heart is feeling peace.

Bible verse of the day, Psalm 126:5. They who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. I have to do a little more work on processing my hurt and anger from this week, but the pain is not overwhelming. I slept last night and tomorrow I have an appointment with my counselor. I am grateful for the appointment because for some reason I was thinking I didn't have another until the end of the month. I actually said, "Praise God!" out loud when the reminder came in my email.    

It's been a week of sorting mind files, a going through the baggage kind of week, and this time things are beginning to make sense. Being asked to step out of a group to which I have dedicated 41 Monday evenings, June through April with only Labor day missing, was devastating, but it hasn't destroyed me. God has better plans for me. The healing He has in store is the kind I really want and need anyway., because He is the only one who knows my story from start to finish, and the only one who loves me wholly and completely.

I have not only been asked to step out of the group, but banished from it. I do not have the choice to return. I've been told I am "stuck," "not ready," and have not gone "deep enough" with my shared answers...But I am not stuck, because God doesn't leave his kids stuck. Instead He is using the seeming unkindness of people I loved and trusted, to get me over the hump. I was told I could start a new step study come September, but that is not likely to happen. Had the leaders been honest with the other members as to why I wasn't coming back, ... I might,...  maybe... consider it. But they were simply told I wasn't coming back, as if it had been my decision, and I think there is something inherently rotten about that. It's like I'm seeing a field of red flags waving at me, and tonight I am grateful for blank answers and an inability to write down what would normally flow naturally.

I am okay. Good even. I am learning to advocate for and take care of myself. I didn't need a rescuer to swoop in and fix it up for me, and that is progress. I've learned a major trigger point in my emotional baggage and God has lanced the wound deep in my heart. Healing has begun. Thank you for your prayers.

You Go, Girl!

Standing up for myself (and probably a few others) for once in my life, and I'll sleep better tonight for having done it.

I'm disappointed the step study turned out this way. It feels kind of like a nightmare... and a bit unbelievable. I could almost laugh though at the way God has used this in healing a part of me that has been broken for so very long. He loves me and that is all that matters.

Maybe I'll go back to CoDA after all.

Character Defects

I took a brave and fearless step last night and wrote a letter to our step study leaders. I had to do it. For me. And for those who will come after me... "One of my greatest character defects is not standing up for and advocating for Martha, and so today I am asking God to remove that defect. Today I choose, with His help, to advocate for myself in a way previously neglected, and I am starting with what transpired on Sunday morning."  In CoDA I learned that my journey to recovery is my own. I go at my own pace, in my own time. There is no "right way" to work the steps. "I emphasize progress over perfection."

Today was a good day. I went to sleep after emailing my letter last night. It was still relatively early, but I was emotionally exhausted and sleep came easy. I had a good day at work. My boss had forgotten to take the turkey roll home to be sliced yesterday, but I heard God whisper in my ear to take my Mandoline Slicer along with me this morning and the kids had turkey sandwiches after all. At my last shift in the baby room I had the pleasure of cleaning up an incredible blow-out. One I might have referred to several years ago as "The Babysitter Test." This small boy ended up in a sink of soapy water. It was that bad. Ha ha! This evening I ate dinner with my beautiful Bethany and her family and then we went for a walk around the block. Well, Jilly and I walked. Jake rode his bike and Beth was dragged around the neighborhood by her dog.

 I am okay. I am learning, and God is showing me He is still right here with me, providing for my needs, and holding me firm when strong winds threaten to knock me down and suck my strength away.

The LORD is a mighty tower where his people can run for safety--
Proverbs 18:10 CEV

Ready or Not, Here It Comes

I thought I'd be ready for Chritmas, but I'm not. I'm running out of time and the pressure is on, but I'm sitting here with my computer, listening to Christmas music, and pretending I have all the time in the world. I did put a few things into gift bags last night and I wrapped some Christmas books for my grandchildren. I almost made cookies, but found I had no anise extract and wasn't ready to brave the grocery store twice in one day. Not on the Saturday before Christmas. So I didn't.

I still don't know exactly how or where I'll spend the majority of Christmas Day, but tomorrow afternoon I have plans to help the Cabinetmaker assemble lasagnas for the holiday meal. (Maybe I'll find my anise extract there...) Each Christmas gets progressively harder. I don't think it's supposed to be like this. How did I end up with grown up children who can't gather together in peace and harmony? What happened to the days of "writing nice things about each other" and "sitting on the couch touching"? The days of my own attempts at sibling peace are gone and all I can do is pray they work things out... It's out of my control. (Step 1. Admitted we were powerless over others- that our lives had become unmanageable.)

I must admit, I didn't spend much time as I'd wanted in preparing my own heart this Christmas. I'd intended on more anticipation, more thinking on the season of Advent, but doing it alone is challenging. There were no parties, not even a work party, and no children's Christmas pageants. (I'm not even sure my grandkids do those... ) Still, I have much to be thankful for, a new grandson, a roof that doesn't leak during cold, December rains, and a Savior who is the reason we celebrate. The Light of the World, remembered on the darkest day of the year.

Fearless

Step 4- Made a searching and fearless moral inventory

I may or may not have done this already... Now it's time to put the old letters in order, to make sense of then, and then lay it all to rest. I'd been struggling with what to write and how to write it when I came to the sudden realization that perhaps I'd done the hardest part of it 3 years ago in the form of "homework assignments." I thought digging them up would be harder, but God knew exactly where I'd buried them and they weren't too hard to find after all. There are more hiding somewhere but He knows where those are too. It's almost time for Step 5. Maybe I'll actually be ready when the time comes.

Sweet Honesty...

For as long as I can remember, it has been terribly difficult for me to be completely honest with others when I think my honesty will hurt them. The truth is, dishonesty always hurts someone. Sometimes that someone is the other person, but very often it is me.

I've cultivated the habit of smoothing things over, steadying the boat, and trying not to make waves. I've justified it by calling it kindness, peace keeping, or even self-sacrifice. Perhaps in truth, I sought to make myself look better by "rescuing" others with lies and half truths. It was never done maliciously, but it was still done, and it was done to soothe my own discomfort. If I am to look deep inside for my own "defects of character," this is what I find.

Mom used to write out the little acronym for Joy as "Jesus first, Others next, Yourself last." I took it to heart, but didn't understand that failing to look out for myself and take care of Martha would result in not being able to give the best of myself to anyone. Scripture admonishes us to"love others as you love yourself," implying not that we neglect to care for ourselves, but that we realize we are not more important than our neighbors. We are all created equal and equally loved by our Creator.

I failed to "guard my heart" (another scripture admonition) and ended up with deep wounds and lasting scars, but then again, Jesus has wounds and scars too. Wounds and scars are teachers. They are tender and tough, physical and spiritual. Visible reminders of lessons learned on this journey through life. I recently said, "Complete and total forgiveness comes hard." I was speaking of forgiving others, particularly those who have wounded me or those I love deeply, but it applies to forgiving myself too. If I continue to live in regret over past decisions, then I haven't granted myself true forgiveness, even though Jesus has...

The sun is shining a little brighter every day. The trees are farther apart than they were in the dark forest, and the path more visible. I might not know what is over the next hill or around the next bend, but I know I'm not alone. It's a beautiful journey, even on a dark day. I might not be there yet, but forgiveness is coming.

So Far

It's been a busy week, both at work and out of it. I started going to a new group on Monday evening, a step study with Celebrate Recovery. Still looking to be healthy emotionally and spiritually It was a good sized group of women. There were two I knew from outside of CR and it felt very comfortable. Going to this group will mean not attending CoDA, or at least not attending regularly. Perhaps it is time to move on...

I met a friend at Panera this evening. She had a dessert and since I'd not eaten dinner, I had a salad. It was a good visit. Tomorrow evening I have a date with a different friend. We're going to Chipotle because neither of us has been there before. Next week I will meet my sister for breakfast one morning before work.

The school year is over and our daycare numbers are dwindling. Teacher's kids have the summer off. One of our little guys won't be back next year because he's moving a few towns over. It will be sad to say goodbye and I will miss his little arms around my neck each afternoon. This is the way of childcare. Our job is to love them while we have the opportunity and to remember the days are fleeting.

Tonight I caught a few minutes with a few grandsons because Seven and Ten came to play with Nine. How fun is that?

Taking a Step or Two

It's past time for me to have turned out the light and settled down to sleep. I suppose one of my shortfalls is not taking care of myself by going to bed earlier and getting adequate rest. maybe that's why I take a nap on my lunch hour.

This past weekend I stopped to talk to someone who several years ago was not happy with me. I saw this person almost every day but never asked what was wrong. Consequently, I wasn't aware of why they were upset and was never able to do my part to remedy the situation. The fault was not mine alone. This person didn't approach me either. We just went on and on knowing something was amiss but never communicating with each other. Here we are years later and it is quite obvious to me they are still angry. At least I now know why. I have owned my side of the disparity. It is all I can do.

I am fearful and anxious when it comes to conflict. Rather than meet it head on and get it resolved, I have a tendency to avoid getting things out in the open. This is a terrible weakness that only leaves both myself and others wounded and wondering what went wrong. I know it's something I need to work on and I am trying, but it's so very hard. Next to impossible. At least it feels that way. I'm a little bit amazed that I actually stopped and talked with this individual. It was scary, uncomfortable, and painful as well, but most of it could have been avoided had I learned how to speak up and ask questions long ago. (Deep breath.)

Back to Work Now

Back to work this morning after a long weekend. Funny how "long weekends" always feel too short. Ha ha! I had to shuffle this week's menu around a bit. Can't serve potatoes or cantaloupe if the produce man hasn't made a delivery yet. The children all got fed. I made sure of that.

One of the sweetest things at work is to hear last year's babies say my name. Little Charlie walked by on his way outside this afternoon, stopped when he saw me in the baby room, and said, "Hi, Martha."  (Oh, my heart!) It always catches me by surprise the first time they say it. And the babies, who gaze into our faces and smile. When I am struggling to smile, nothing brings relief like a hug from one of our little people.

We didn't have a big family picnic for the holiday weekend this time. All these changes are hard for my mind and emotions to handle. I keep thinking someone will pick up the slack when it comes to these occasions... but really I need to adjust my own thought patterns.

Learning and growing are hard. I'm working on that 4th step. The one that talks about a making a "searching and fearless moral inventory." I need to remember, while searching out my flaws and foibles, that God has also woven into my character strengths and talents. If I fail to do so life can feel too big to carry. But the little ones. The little ones who climb into my arms and wrap themselves around my heart.

Home Alone/ Bits and Pieces

* I was substitute teacher for the three year old class at church this morning. There were eighteen little ones and I had two helpers who know more about running the class than I do. It was a good hour. There were no major catastrophes and everyone left smiling.

* I met the Cabinetmaker for lunch after church. We exchanged vehicles as mine is due for an inspection which is difficult to schedule working 7:30 am until 4:30 or 5 pm. I came home after lunch. Perhaps if I had my own car I would have gone back to the pottery studio this afternoon, but I stayed home, mostly alone. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that.

* Tomorrow I go back to work and into the arms of a dozen or more little ones who will clamor about my knees looking for a bit of attention. I will make Sloppy Joe's for lunch, and hopefully have some time to snuggle my little friend Jonah who is rather attached to me. He cries when I leave the room. Poor little guy! Ha ha!

* In the evening I will go to my CoDA meeting and hope someone shows up beside myself. Last week there were two of us and I was the meeting leader. How about that? Good thing it isn't too hard to read out of the leader's manual. It was a good meeting in spite of small numbers.

* Later this week Minnesota is coming to visit. I am excited, and a bit apprehensive at the same time. Family dynamics are a little strained... I am attempting to step back and let my kids work out the details while being available at the same time. I don't know if I'm doing things right or not, but I'm trying. Perhaps I should charge my camera battery. :0)

Back to Step 2

It is quite amazing how my Saturday morning appointment, the Sunday sermon, and tonight's CoDA meeting all dovetailed in their messages. Much of it had to do with not being able to manage our own lives. "Our lives had become unmanageable..." Sometimes I think God isn't talking to me, and other times it's quite undeniable.

"Life is not about what you achieve, what you grasp, it's about what you receive from God." God has bigger plans for us than we could ever imagine. Honestly, I find it hard to believe God cares that much about me. I find it hard to believe He wants more for me than I want for myself. Guess I'll let that roll around in my little brain for a bit.

My Name is Martha...

Sometimes CoDA meetings are eh... and sometimes I take a lot home. Random topics or readings drawn from the bottom of a box have been poured as disinfectant on infected sores or applied like a healing salve on tender wounds.

Words. The way we communicate says so much about us, and yet we pay so little attention to what we are saying... I'm learning. It's a slow, and sometimes agonizing process, but I'm gaining ground a step at a time. Just when I think my wheels are grinding to a halt, God throws a little grit on the road and I gain a bit of traction once again.

Bits and Pieces

* Still blogging, but unable to follow many of you. I find it sad after so many years of bloggy buddies, but at present I have great lack of concentration. The weeks tend to melt into each other lately... Seems I slide out of one and into the next without even noticing. I am grateful that going to work isn't terribly difficult.

* I've been practicing bravery and risk taking by ordering a new carpet for the back room here at my parents' house. (Or is it Hannah's house? Or maybe mine? Either way, it's getting a new carpet.) Maybe I'll post before and after pictures.

* This past Saturday evening I'd planned to meet a few CoDA friends at The Cheesecake Factory, but drove all the way there only to discover I'd left my wallet home. The old me might have given up and left in frustration and tears, but I had $8 in my pocket. Not quite enough for a Cheesecake Factory meal, but enough to buy a drink if that was my only option. My friends ended up covering for me and I experienced an unexpected Random Act of Kindness.

* Went to CoDA instead of the Monday night church women's group this week. I was feeling slightly overwhelmed by the groups exuberance and CoDA is really laid back and relaxed. It was a good choice this week.

* Sliced my finger open at work yesterday when I reached into my canvas bag for a spatula and came into direct contact with the blade of my Mandolin V-Cutter. I have a great pair of cut-resistant gloves I wear when cutting vegetables, but I wasn't wearing it to reach in the bag... Good thing I carry my own supply of band-aides. Taped myself back together right quick!

* I went to work as a bear today. It was an easy costume. Brown pants and sweater, and the bear mask I bought while out with my sister on Saturday. Loved the parade of costumed children Trick or Treating through the halls!

So, Yeah....

I'm not always sure about going to CoDA... and then something happens that takes me back again. Yesterday morning on my way out of church I spotted a familiar face. My mind started spinning and, what do you know? I found not one, but two CoDA friends. "CoDA is not about being selfish," one reminded me, "It's about self care." And it was good to hear, because sometimes I forget. Not because I am trying to be selfish, but because I desperately don't want to be.

This evenings conversation/sharing had me reflecting on some of the ways CoDA has been helpful to me. I've learned to step away and not let the actions and opinions of others effect me in quite the manner they once did and I can answer an accusation without getting as flustered. I'm realizing people sometimes think they know a situation when in actuality, they don't and it's okay to tell them that without any other explanation.

I'm learning
 to listen without needing to interrupt. We had a (mediated) family meeting a little over a week ago. I listened to various family members share thoughts, feelings, and pains without feeling like I needed to explain or offer up a defense. They can have feelings and viewpoints different than mine and it's okay.

It's also okay for me not to be drawn into the dramas and dilemmas of those around me. We all have issues, we're all adults, and we all need to learn how to face life head on. If I can do it, so can they. If they need my help, they are welcome to ask, just like I can ask for help when I need it. And it's just as okay for them to say no as it is for me to decline if I am not able, even if the reason doesn't appear to make sense.

Photos taken at a nearby farm market. I think I want a flower garden like this! Or maybe I just want to wander through it and take pictures.