life as i know it...

life moves...

This week has been a whirlwind...of boxes, furniture, trucks, people, and emotions.  Moving from Ohio back to Georgia has certainly been an exhausting process, but as I sit here tonight, I know that it has all been well worth every ounce of effort and energy.  While there are still pieces of my heart that remain in Ohio (and likely always will), I know in the depths of my soul that I have returned home. 

My year in Ohio was miserable in some ways and yet looking back, I am grateful for all that the year offered.  Beyond the beauty and serenity of living on a farm and the experiences I gained professionally, I met some truly amazing people.  And one of the most important gifts I received from my year in Ohio was my deep appreciation of my Southern roots and heritage.  Being so far away offered me new perspectives.  The simple every-day aspects of life I had always taken for granted became treasured moments and I learned to embrace being a "Southern belle". 

Now that I have returned home (albeit a new home in a new city in Georgia), I am able to take in those simple moments and feel the life being breathed back into me.  The sounds of crickets and tree frogs recreate the melody of my childhood.  The balmy summer air is like a time machine...taking me back to so many nights of laughter and bare skin and long conversations...taking me forward on a new journey beyond adolescence and my 20's, onto a path of being immersed in the place that witnessed my entrance to this world and helped me grow into the woman I am today. 

Despite my happiness about returning to the South, it has been (and continues to be at times) a difficult transition.  Leaving behind what feels like another world to re-enter this one has left me feeling myriad, overwhelming emotions.  And yet tonight, I sit here on my back patio, and I am comforted in realizing that Ohio and Georgia are not two separate worlds.  I look up and see an entire sky filled with stars...the same stars I wished upon during my quiet nights in Ohio.  So maybe I'm 800 miles further south now.  Maybe the sounds are different and the air is different.  Maybe the people and experiences will be different.  But being home does not mean that the past is gone.  I can still wish upon these same stars in the same night sky.

wanting more...

"We always want what we don't have." - I have no idea who originally made this statement, but as much as I hate to admit it, it is a truth.  At least it is true a lot of the time.

So much time is spent living the day-to-day life in monotony, complacency, and boredom.  We go through the motions and do what needs to be done.  On occasion, we find something to entertain ourselves, to fill our spirits with more than just a moment's excitement.  But at least for me, I find that oftentimes I am still left with some empty space inside.  The problem is that I am then faced with the dilemma of trying to identify the reason for the emptiness and then find a way to fill it.  And filling the emptiness is the most difficult piece of it all.

Tonight I have that sense of emptiness.  I feel restless and yet nothing seems able to calm that place of internal chaos.  No matter what I try to do, nothing seems to help.  I'm left filling my time with empty activities and praying that sleep will come soon and tomorrow morning I will feel more alive, more full of life, literally.

It is easy in hindsight to look back on our pasts and see the good aspects of what we once had and have since lost.  I have been struggling with this a lot lately...this sense that I've lost some crucial piece of myself, of who I am.  I am not entirely sure what that piece is...I have some ideas...but I know that, in large part, that is where this current sense of emptiness was borne.  In some aspects, I am not at all the woman I want to be, or the woman I imagined I would be.  And now I am left with an imagination running rampant and that feeling of wanting, or perhaps needing, more.

being myself...

There are very few people in this world with whom I feel like I can 100% completely be myself. 

Everyone judges...it is part of being human.  But many people take those judgments and use them against others.  When people don't understand our words or behaviors or motivations, when they don't agree with the choices we make, then judgment springs forth like a dagger, and the sting of it hurts as deeply.  Consequently, we learn not to divulge certain information.  We learn to paint on a happy face, to conceal our flaws as much as possible, and to succumb to loneliness in times when we actually need support and guidance.

Of course we all wear various masks in order to function "normally" in society.  We have our work mask, which we wear in the hopes that our professional persona can hide whatever personal troubles lie beneath.  We wear our society mask...that one that prevents us from screaming in ignorant people's faces and causing scenes of "abnormal" or "unaccepted" behavior.  We wear the daily "I am fine" mask...each time someone greets us and asks how we are doing, don't we typically respond with "fine" or "good" regardless of what is underneath our mask?  And there is no inherent bad-ness in wearing these masks...they are survival skills and coping mechanisms.  The problem occurs when we are no longer able to remove the masks.

There is fear associated with the removal of any mask.  To show our true selves, to bare our souls, to allow others into that secret place often tainted with darkness...it is a scary thing to do.  Often we are judged.  Or misunderstood.  Or what we believed was unconditional love no longer feels so unconditional.  In baring our true selves, we risk being alone.  We risk losing others or disappointing others.  The result is that we typically don't remove our masks and when we do, it is done with careful deliberation.

I understand that all of this is simply a part of human nature and experience.  I understand why it is necessary to wear masks most of the time and why it is so hard to remove them.  And I understand why, despite the fear and risks involved, it is still vitally important that we allow select others to see who we truly are.  But understanding all of this does not make it any easier to do.  Good or bad, we learn more who these select people are with the passage of time and increasing age.  Sometimes this increased knowledge makes it easier...but sometimes knowledge is accompanied by pain with the realization that we cannot always share our most private feelings with those we love most.

I am struggling with my masks lately.  While I have been doing great in putting on the masks and wearing them when necessary, I am finding it difficult to remove the masks when it is time to show my true face.  Even when alone, it is difficult to remove the masks.  I stand before the mirror, knowing that what I see beneath the mask may not be pretty.  I stand there and contemplate if I have the energy to deal with whatever lurks beneath.  I see my reflection, and some days, it is simply easier to just leave that mask in place, smile at my inauthentic reflection, and turn away.  Unfortunately, what is easiest is not always what is best...perhaps it is time to remove my masks, unearth the truth, and be proud of my courage, despite any ugliness that surfaces...

another day in ohio...

It's a chilly, rainy Saturday here in Ohio and I honestly do not mind the weather...primarily because there are only a very few patches of snow left on the ground!  While I enjoyed all the beautiful snow this winter and it was certainly a new and exciting experience, the time has come and I am aching for Spring.  Actually, I'm already longing for Summer, but Spring will suffice at the moment.  And 45 degrees is such a blessing after months of brutal, frigid temperatures.

It has been a productive morning already and no doubt it will be a productive afternoon since I have to work all day!  I am grateful for the productivity, but I must admit that I wish I had this day to myself (or rather with my hubby).  Despite the rain, I would love to venture out and explore some of previously unforaged areas nearby.  Even the gym sounds potentially appealing today (and that is certainly a good sign that I am well into recovering from the week of miserable sickness!).  But so it is...a day for work. 

Considering I have to spend my day working, I am choosing to look on the positive side of things and appreciate all that I can today.  Sometimes I think we all need to stop for a moment and remind ourselves of all we have to be grateful for.  So, here is my list of gratitudes for today...

1 - I am grateful to be feeling healthy today.

2 - I am grateful for the opportunities I have received (even the ones I didn't necessarily want)...I am grateful to have this year in Ohio which has provided many new experiences and a greater appreciation of my Southern heritage and home...I am grateful for my new job that will allow us to return to Georgia in a few months...I am grateful for the pre-approval to buy a house...

3 - I am grateful for amazing family and friends...for a sweet and supportive husband, for encouraging and loving parents, for the BEST, most amazing sister in the world...I am grateful for wonderful girlfriends who have brought such joy to my life, for friendships that last a lifetime, and having awesome people by my side for each milestone that life brings my way.

4 - I am grateful for my work...if I have to spend a Saturday working at the hospital, I cannot think of a better way to spend it than watching a movie and talking with some of my favorite patients...and I'm thankful for the flexibility with my hours so that I can make up missed hours fairly easily without a lot of additional stress.

5 - I am grateful for my faith!  Beyond everything else, it is the ONE thing that keeps me going each day, that gives me hope when I need it most, and that always reminds me of the beauty in this world.

So today...it is chilly and raining...it is a Saturday that I have to spend at work...but it is also a day for which to be grateful of all the blessings in my life!

Sickness has a strange way of opening up a whole new world, or rather the same world through an entirely new perspective. Despite my crappy immune system and the numerous ailing aches and pains that I experience on a regular basis, I can honestly say that it has been a very long time since I have been as sick as I have in these past 3 days. And as much as I've hated every second of it, I do feel as though my eyes have been opened in the midst of my semi-delusional state of consciousness. Simple things ordinarly taken for granted have accrued greater meaning. Everyday gestures have been accepted with abundant appreciation. Greater respect and admiration for others has been gained. I could not have fathomed any of this as I laid on the bathroom floor with my body shaking uncontrollably and one arm wrapped around a trashcan. When my blood pressure became so low that I had to check it every 10 minutes to determine whether a trip to the hospital was warranted, my last thought was anything akin to appreciation. And still, my body is weak and aching. My head is still clouded and it is still a tremendous effort to move beyond my bed for more than 5 minutes at time. But my ability to think has returned, and with those thoughts, a new perspective has been born. Perhaps it sounds trite or naive or just plain ridiculous, but in this moment, I do not care how it sounds. Right now, what matters to me is that I was able to gain some strength and gratitude from a very miserable experience.

I have an acute phobia of vomiting. And there was a time not so long ago when I had an equally acute fear of being alone that was entirely associated with my phobia of illness. Though I wish I could say that I have overcome my phobia, I cannot say that. The phobia still exists, though certainly not as potent as it once was. And I can say that the fear of being alone has diminished nearly to non-existence. While it certainly helped to know that my husband was asleep in the same house and that he would be beside me if I needed him, it was refreshing to realize that I didn't need him. At least I didn't need him for emotional purposes (only to fetch some medicine, a washcloth, water, etc.). I slept on that bathroom floor alone Sunday night and while it was one of the most miserable nights of my life, I am grateful for realizing my own emotional strength in the midst of my physical weakness. I still prayed fervently throughout those long hours of darkness, but while my prayers have previously entailed pleas to God that I would not vomit, my prayers that night were simply for calmness and peace in the midst of the pain. And as my body began to exhaust itself temporarily, I became aware of the simplicities in life that I often take for granted. Namely...a soft mattress beneath my back, the ability to move without excruciating torture throughout my body, the capacity to sleep for more than 10 minute intervals. And in thinking of these seemingly simple daily experiences, I realized that there are many people in this world who are fighting much more serious, debilitating illnesses on a daily basis. There are people, even ones I know, who cannot sleep for more than minutes at a time without pain. People who cannot move without terrible nausea overtaking them. And there are many more who may not be physically ill and yet they never feel the comfort of a mattress beneath them at night. At least I had the warmth in the house and a blanket and a pillow (or 2 actually) beneath my head.

Monday and Tuesday were more of the same, with a different location. I could tolerate the bed and even sleep for a few hours at a time. As I began to walk rather than crawl to the bathroom, I felt as if the world was spinning, as if my head might explode, as if my body might break into pieces from shivering so violently. I felt as if my heart would give out and I might collapse at any moment. But despite these feelings, I realized the inherent greatness in being able to walk. I was able to appreciate the movement of my body, however slowly that movement occurred. I was able to once again recognize the strength exhibited by so many others and I stood in awe of their grace.

Last night, the tears fell time and time again. With my body beyond exhaustion and my worries about missing work increasing, I felt desperate for relief, for strength, for a rapid physical recovery that would allow me to resume my daily obligations. But as my husband wiped my tears, as he brought me Gatorade and magazines and Word Find puzzles, as he rubbed my back and laid beside me in bed...I fell in love with him all over again and I realized that sometimes the truest beauty of love is found in the most un-beautiful moments. I have not had the strength to bathe (beyond a washcloth and water) in 3 days and my hair is disgustingly dirty. My body looked emaciated and my skin is some strange tinge of purple and yellow hues. And yet my husband looked at me as if I was the most beautiful person in the world. And so, through my streams of tears, I saw the power of love, the beauty of love, and I thanked God for being blessed with this love.

Today I have slowly begun what I can only hope is the road to recovery. There have definitely been my moments of doubt (even now, as I'm fighting another spell of pain and nausea), but I've felt such an amazing outpouring of love and prayers from family and friends that the emotional comfort has overpowered the physical weakness I am still fighting. In the midst of other's busy and chaotic lives, I've received messages that prayers are being said (the most endearing from my best friend's 3-year-old daughter) and that love is being sent from many, many miles away. And tonight as I say my own prayers for all these special people in my life, the only thing I can say is that all those prayers and love have reached me and I am more grateful for the blessings in my life than any words can say.

And so it is that life's greatest struggles teach us some of the most important lessons in life. Misery can make us remember what is truly important, and while I would gladly have done without the misery, I am so thankful for this reminder of God's blessings.

It is the beginning of a new year, and a new decade. I can honestly say that ten years ago, I could never have imagined all that would happen in the coming years or where I would be today.
I'm sitting here watching the snow fall tonight, and the beauty of it continues to amaze me each day. I love waking up and looking out the window, seeing the world bathed in another fresh layer of white. I love the sight of the giant firs beyond the window with their branches heavily weighed down by icy crystals. I love when the sun peaks through the mass of gray above and for a moment, the entire ground looks like someone tossed a million glittering diamonds across our driveway. I love it all, but I could never have imagined it. I could never have guessed that I would be living in northeast Ohio, a place where the drive to Canada is much, much quicker than the drive to a real beach. And even though I might have envisioned that I would be on my way to becoming a doctor, I could never have conceived of the endurance and motivation required to get me this far. I hoped that I would be married by this time in my life, but the idea that I would have been divorced for five years and remarried for nearly two would have been unbelievable.
I recently got back in touch with a dear friend, one whom was a very important person in my life a decade ago. With the renewal of this friendship has come a rekindled desire to reflect on my life and myself. The conversations have inspired me, sparked my curiosity about the life I've created for myself, and reminded me of the person I was ten years ago. While there are obviously some parts of that girl that needed to change, there are other parts that I am beginning to discover are still lying inside me, dormant though they may be at the moment. I am being reminded of the fire in my spirit, and how it is the simple pleasures and moments in life that make it all worthwhile.
Sometimes it takes us looking back at our past to realize where we are in the present and to truly examine where we want to go in our future. It is a good time for reflection, and a good time to stop just talking and actually start doing. It is a time for greater self-discovery and renewed belief in our own strength and tenacity. So tonight, I sit here on this first day of a new year and new decade, watching the snow fall, and I feel hope. Just like the seeds of the lush summer gardens here, I know that the same spirit I carried within me ten years ago is simply buried beneath the layers of change and newness. I know that if I dig beneath those layers, I will find the threads that link the girl I once was to the woman I now am.

It seems as though I always feel a heavy emptiness at the end of a journey. Once I have reached a destination, a place seems to open up inside me, a place that is lacking in everything, a place that is just pure emptiness. Of course there are the feelings of joy and relief that accompany that moment when an achievement is finally reached. Those are the expected emotions. Those are the feelings that others can understand. But what about all the other feelings? What about a sense of being lost, of wandering about, wondering where to go next? People generally do not talk about those feelings, and yet those are the feelings that linger long after the joy and relief have subsided.

The truth is that I am not really at the end of a journey in my life right now; I am actually more still in the middle of the journey. And yet I am experiencing that sense of lost empty space within me, and I am trying to figure out what it means, and what I should do with it. Maybe it's the stillness of the winter, the white blanket of snow laid out before me, just sitting there with no movement, that makes me feel this vastness of space inside that needs to be filled. Maybe it's the fact that this part of my journey is coming to an end in the next 6 months, and this is a journey that has taken more than 10 years of my life. Maybe it's just the simple fact of living on a secluded farm nearly 1000 miles from my family and friends. Or maybe it's a bit of all of this, or perhaps even none of it. Maybe it doesn't really matter why I feel this emptiness. Maybe it is only the emptiness itself that means something.

I don't know what to do with the emptiness. I know the things that I enjoy doing, and I do them. But the emptiness persists. I can read book after book and crochet 5 afghans and the emptiness lingers underneath the words and yarn. My body is exhausted and I sleep, and yet I wake and the emptiness awakens with me. I dig as far below the surface as I dare for the spark of new creative stirrings, and yet I come up time and time again with nothing.

I know that a part of the emptiness is a part of my depression. And I know that part of the depression is related to the physical ailments that continue to plague me. But the emptiness feels greater than all of that. It feels like more than a symptom of depression or a consequence of my bodily discomfort. The emptiness feels more existential than all of that.

Some people might say I should just sit with the empty space and allow itself to eventually fill on its own. And perhaps that is the best solution. Others might say I should search harder for the source of the emptiness. Again, that may be the best path. I can sit here and run through the possibilities in my mind, and I can ask myself endless questions and try out any variety of options in an attempt to alleviate the emptiness. I know all of this; I just do not have the energy or motivation to do any of it.

As a new year approaches, I know that I want changes in my life. I know that I do not want to feel this stagnant emptiness continue. I know that I want to be that person who embraces each moment of life, who lives in spiritual and emotional abundance, who savors every taste of the world around me. I just don't know how to get there.

prayer as the only salvation

I am truly blessed in my life.  I have the most wonderfully supportive family and the dearest friends.  And I have an absolutely amazing husband and a sweet canine son who lights up my life.  With so many blessings, I feel enormous guilt when I complain.  And yet lately, I feel like my complaints are far outnumbering my expressions of gratitude.

As a warning, I must say that this post may be more of a venting session than anything else.  I am filled with so much frustration, anxiety, and fear these days that I have literally reached a point of desperation.  For nearly six weeks now, I have been fighting with horrible bouts of dizziness.  The incapacitating kind of dizziness where the world will not seem to remain still for longer than a few moments and everyday activities are nearly impossible to accomplish.  The chronic sense of imbalance is punctuated by periods of severe vertigo and I feel helpless to find any relief.  After being sent to the hospital last week, I was diagnosed with benign positional vertigo.  However, as much as I would like to trust the doctor and the diagnosis, my symptoms do not seem to match the diagnosis based on what I have read.  My dizziness is much more chronic and long-lasting than what is suggested by the diagnosis.  And yet I do not know what to do beyond trusting the doctors.  I will see an internist next week and am praying with all my heart that this new doctor can find the source of the dizziness and help to alleviate it.  In the meantime, I'm stumbling around, trying to keep the anxiety at bay.

While part of the anxiety comes directly from feeling so out of control with the dizziness, there is another piece of anxiety that haunts me each day.  Being on my internship/residency, I am allowed only a few days off for the entire year.  Taking a sick day is a big deal, and yet what other option do I have when I cannot function?  It is a situation that leaves me overwhelmed with anxiety and frustration.  And add on top of that my upcoming defense for my dissertation (which is scheduled 12 days from now).  Maintaining focus and concentration is a task in itself, and not one that I feel very successful with these days.

On a positive note, we will finally be going home for a visit to Georgia in less than two weeks now.  I can hardly wait to see all my family and friends, and to feel the comforts of home once again.  I have so many wonderful thoughts about our upcoming trip, and yet those good thoughts are also tainted by the fears associated with the ongoing episodes of dizziness.  Driving 2000 miles in one week will undoubtedly be extremely difficult unless I am able to get substantial relief between now and then.  And so even my "happy place" feels haunted at the moment. 

There is so much weight on my shoulders in this moment, and yet I feel I have no right to complain.  There are so many people in this world with problems much greater than the obstacles I am currently facing.  Many of those people fight their battles with courage and strength, and here I am complaining about dizziness and missing days of work.  I keep praying for peace, for God's calming strength to wash over me, for guidance, and for forgiveness of my complaints.  Prayer is the only possible solution I can see right now.  Prayer is my only salvation.

pulled toward creativity...

There is a feeling inside of me that has been gradually growing throughout the past couple of months.  It is as if a part of me is re-awakening.  I can feel the eager stirrings of creativity deep within my bones.  It is not such a specific urge as I have felt in past times, but more of a general sense of aching to create...in various forms, by numerous inspirations.  And it is a heightened appreciation of all the creativity surrounding me. 

My senses are intensified and I can feel my spirit's whisper building to a song.  Music pulses through my veins, a soul-refreshing blood coursing from my heart outwards to release itself through my skin.  I read aloud words of the greats from ages far removed... the Brontes, Hemingway, Fitzgerald...I feel the beauty of the words form upon my lips, a tender kiss of passion that leaves me lost in moments of intoxicating brilliance.  Nature's majestic beauty is painted in vibrant colors...the sun rising in fiery coral, emerald hills rising and falling amist a delicate steel fog, yellow sunflowers larger than dinner plates dancing in gardens...a multitude of hues so vivid that I long to memorize everything around me, a mental snapshot of vitality.

I sit among tools of creation...colored pencils, blank paper, charcoals, paints, yarns of every texture and color, bamboo knitting needles, cameras, unfilled journals, an antique piano, wood, sandpaper, brushes...I want to use it all, to create tangible objects from the images in my mind.  There is so much I want to create that it feels a bit overwhelming.  And yet I am incredibly grateful...how long I have been waiting (without even knowing I was waiting) to feel this blessed pull back toward creativity.

mornings and music...

Mornings are perhaps the most beautiful time of day here.  The sun rises, brilliant pink and orange, slowly crawling above the fields in front of the house.  The corn has grown tall and looks like lithe ballet dancers gracefully swaying in the slight breeze.  Waves of light are thrown across patches of earth and the bricks of the house, almost like slivers of diamonds caught between the shadows.  The air is mostly quiet, the slight buzzing and humming of nature the only accompaniment to the music that fills my soul on such mornings.

There is indeed a song in my soul, and mornings are when I can feel the music at its most powerful crescendo.  The music is different, some days only a slight variation of the day before, other days passionately bursting forth a new, and perhaps unfamiliar, tune.  Some mornings bring melodies of comfort and others feel more like a tune caught in staccato.  This morning, it is a lullaby playing in my soul, trying to lull me back to the comfort of bed and the serenity of slumber.

The music inside me will continue throughout the day, though I will only hear it periodically in moments of quiet.  In all the moments between, I must remind myself that the beauty of the mornings awaits for each tomorrow and the melody of music is always in my soul.