I am a writer ... I may not be getting paid for it yet, but I do consider myself to be a writer. And when you are a writer ... eventually you will experience writer's block. There have been times over the past few weeks where I have sat down with my laptop, opened my blog site and realized that I had nothing to say. When I first began writing this blog ... I was full of ideas. But the thing about transferring those ideas to "paper," is that they oftentimes turn into something completely different when the product reaches completion.
The best way for me to describe my writing process is that it begins with an acorn (a small idea) ... and grows into a mighty oak (the finished product). When inspiration strikes ... I sit down ... and just allow the words to come through me. I am often surprised by where the journey takes me. These little blips and stories I share with you actually take hours to write. But once I start writing ... something else takes over all together and I cannot stop until I am done. My daughter often comments when I am deep into the process that she could ask for the moon and I would say yes because I am not really present. For me, the writing process is all consuming.
I do not limit my writing to the contents of this blog ... I am currently in the process of writing a manuscript .. I journal every day. My dear friend D often comments on my journal as the best written journal of all time because while she journals freehand in a purple notebook ... I keep mine on my computer and edit my thoughts relentlessly.
Once upon a time I was the supervisor in the transcription department of a major insurance company. Every piece of written correspondence, claim information, etc came through my department and it was my responsibility to make sure it was perfect. So editing written material is deeply embedded in my psyche ... and I apply that editing to everything that I write ... whether it be an e-mail, a thank you note, etc.
So when I sit down at my computer to share my insights with you ... I make sure that what I am writing about is relevant to where I currently am in my walk ... that I get those ideas across with humor and sensitivity and that they are honest. My posts are not groundbreaking ... or life changing. By going back and reading what I have written ... I can honestly say that they are not all my best work. Some of the posts that I think are my best receive the least feedback ... and ones that I believe to be mediocre get an overwhelming response. It's a learning process ... and I learn something every time I publish something new.
I want to personally thank everyone for the mass amount of support you showed me in regard to my post entitled Finding Myself ... I received so many e-mails that I haven't been able to answer each one personally. But I wanted you to know that your messages were read and greatly appreciated.
I fancy myself as a modern day Erma Bombeck ... finding humor in the mundane ... in everyday life. And that seems to be working for me. But lately, given my present circumstances, I'm really not feeling the funny ... feeling a little more Tony Robbins than Erma ... so please bear with me ... I am hoping it is just a phase. :) And as with all things I write ... inspiration strikes under the strangest of circumstances. With that being said ...
Last night I was on my way home from a meeting ... it was about 9:00 p.m. and a horrible thunderstorm greeted me when I exited the building. I stood in the doorway under the overhang for awhile contemplating whether or not I should wait for the rain to subside or make a run for it. The weather did not show any signs of letting up so I ran as fast as my chubby little legs would carry me ... down the sidewalk ... across the street and into the parking garage ... looking much like a drowned rat as I unlocked my car. My hoodie was soaked and did little to protect my hair ... my Keds filled with water.
As I paid my parking fee and turned onto the road that would lead me home, the rain was coming down with such force I could barely see three feet ahead of me. Once again, I contemplated pulling over and waiting for the rain to subside ... but a quick listen to a weather alert on a local radio station assured me that relief was not to be found.
Now, on a normal day ... the ride home from my meeting would take approximately 45 minutes ... and as I live in Podunk, PA ... that means traveling along unlit, country roads a majority of the way. It was already late ... my children were home alone ... and you know how dangerous teenagers can be when left to their own devices (*wink*) ... so my only choice was to forge ahead.
I said a quick prayer as I do every time I enter my vehicle ... and started on my journey ... pulling myself forward in my seat for a better view and clutching the steering wheel with both hands. I am not clear if it was the time of night or the weather conditions that kept most people off the road last night ... but I found that for a majority of my ride home ... I was alone on the roadway ... no reassuring taillights to light my path ... no headlights in my rear view mirror.
The normal 45 minute ride ... took a total of one hour and 20 minutes ... and not for one moment was I able to see more than three feet ahead of me. But you know what I found? That three feet was just enough ... just enough to dodge the falling branches that had been blown down by the forceful winds ... just enough to see the portions of flooded roadways I needed to avoid ... just enough to slowly and safely make it to the shelter of my home.
And this got me to thinking ... why is it that we often feel the need to see every mile of the journey that leads to our final destination? Looking only for blue skies and sunshine ... able to see ahead for miles and miles and miles.
Have you ever traveled across this country? The road is paved with hills and valleys ... twists and turns ... and, yes, even the occasional flat stretch of road where you can actually see miles ahead of you ... if the weather cooperates. There are sunny days ... there are rainy days ... there are thunderstorms ... tornadoes ... hurricanes ... blizzards. Weather is unpredictable ... and makes your journey unpredictable as well.
That's life ... isn't it? Would you fall in love if you could see ahead for miles and miles and see that the love wouldn't last and you would have to suffer heartbreak? Would you quit that job in search of a new career if you could see for miles and miles and know for a fact that the new career you chose wasn't what you expected it would be? Would you have children if you could see for miles and miles and know that your child would experience a terminal illness ... or suffer from an addiction? Would you take risks and chances if you could see for miles and miles and know the outcome isn't what you wanted it to be?
I never imagined that at 40 years old I would find myself taking a leap of faith and leaving a job with security to pursue life as a college student ... or that I would be doing it at a time of great upheaval in my family. I never imagined myself as a single mother to two teenagers ... living alone in a great big house ... taking on new responsibilities as head of the household. Sure ... I would like to have a crystal ball to look into the future and see where this journey ends ... if there is hope for saving my marriage ... if I rise to the challenge and finish my degree ... if I use this painful experience as a learning tool to grow and be an example to my children of how to overcome obstacles in the road. But my future is unwritten and what is to come remains unseen. One of my favorite songs of all time is Garth Brooks' The Dance ... wherein he sings " ... I could have missed the pain ... but I'd have had to miss the dance." And isn't the dance the best part?
You aren't meant to see for miles and miles ahead into your future every single day. Some days will be bright and sunny and the road will be outstretched before you with blue skies lighting your path. Other days it will be winding and difficult and thunderstorms will be in your midst. And that's okay ... because (as Joyce Meyers often says) if you worry, why pray ... and if you pray, why worry?
God will let you see what you are meant to see ... and you will be given the knowledge you need when it is time for you to know it. God will give you just enough sight to guide you ... and it may only be three feet ahead ... but just like my journey home ... three feet is just enough to avoid the branches and floods that may be blocking your path ... you may have to go a little slower ... you may not arrive to your destination in the amount of time you would like. But sometimes three feet is just enough to get you safely home ... right where you belong.
© 2010-2011 Melanie L. Miller All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Queen for a Day ...
So now that I have acknowledged the elephant in the room ... let's have some fun shall we?
I cordially invite you to join me for a look back on the social event of the season ... The Royal Wedding.
I am a nerd of infinite proportion when it comes to all things British. If you were to come to my home for a visit ... you would find my library filled with a vast array of paperback books which sport covers mainly of the pastel variety. A virtual Easter egg hunt displayed on my shelves.
I am a hard core reader of "Chick Lit." Not to be confused with Harlequin romances or Johanna Lindsay novels whose covers feature Fabio in a variety of different poses ... with a damsel in distress standing just out of reach of or wrapped in his ridiculously muscular arms. No. Chick Lit is a genre that involves a wicked sense of humor, a splash of romance and heartbreak and is centered around the misadventures of an imperfect, adorable heroine along with her quirky friends. Think "Bridget Jones." Which was actually a book, by the way, long before it was a movie ... and well worth the read. And I just happen to prefer my Chick Lit to have London as its backdrop.
Most of my favorite movies are set in the UK ... the aforementioned Bridget Jones' Diary ... Love Actually (my favorite holiday movie ... second only to Christmas Vacation) ... Shakespeare in Love ... Four Weddings and a Funeral ... Notting Hill ... just to name a few. The biggest cinematic disappointment of all time? When they took my beloved Rebecca Bloomwood ... heroine extraordinaire from Sophie Kinsela's brilliant Shopaholic series ... a British heroine ... and turned her character into an American. Tragic really ... sigh.
When it comes to men who make me swoon ... give me a dash of the two Hughs ... Grant and Dancy ... throw in a shot of Colin Firth (if you haven't seen the BBC's adaptation of Pride and Prejudice please stop reading and immediately head to your local video store) ... a nightcap of Jude Law ... and let's call it a day.
My love of all things British came at an early age. Through literature. For as long as I can remember ... books have played an important role in my life. On any typical day ... at any particular time ... you will find my nose buried in a book. Finishing approximately one per week. One of my favorite articles of clothing is a T-shirt that says "Reading is Sexy."
My love affair started with Winnie the Pooh, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Through the Looking Glass ... and pretty much everything written by Jane Austen ... whom I believe to be the inventor of the Chick Lit genre. Wuthering Heights is another classic that I revisit from time to time.
I was blessed to have an overly ambitious English teacher whom, in my senior year, dedicated an entire semester to introducing her students to Old English literature. I still remember our first assignment ... to dissect the ancient, epic poem ... Beowulf. From there we traveled through the Canterbury Tales ... fell in love to the poetry of Lord Byron ... and eventually landed in the center of the Globe Theatre ... studying Macbeth. The discovery of Shakespeare for me was like discovering God. At the age of 18, I actually flirted with the idea of becoming an English Lit major in college ... until I realized that the call for such majors were few and far between.
My son and daughter can attest to my great love of all things British as they have had to sit through numerous dinner hours wherein they are required to speak in a British accent. They ask to be excused in order to use the loo, we refer to injustices suffered throughout the day as bollocks, call people we don't care for wanker or say they should bugger off (not charitable references by the way), we call the untrustworthy dodgy, if something takes us by surprise we say we are gobsmacked, we say things like cheers and when we start to tire, we say we are knackered ... yes, it may seem weird to you ... but it's actually a fun way to spend an evening ... and the teenagers like it so much, they invite their friends over so they can show off what a corker their mum is.
So with all of this love ... can you imagine the enormity of my delight and excitement as the day of the Royal Wedding approached? Had I not already left my full-time job ... there is no doubt in my mind that I would have used a vacation day to stay home and witness this blessed event. I remember watching Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer's nuptials as a young girl ... sitting on the floor of my living room ... with my friend Alexandria Troyer ... playing with my Barbie dolls ... transfixed by the spectacle unfolding across the pond. It was magic ... and the wedding of Prince William and Katherine Middleton some 30 years later ... did not disappoint.
I settled in on the special day dressed in my Sunday best ... a "hat" (actually a very large hair pin) placed upon my head ... sipping a steaming cup of Earl Gray tea and enjoying a poppy seed bagel (there were no crumpets to be found in my pantry, go figure) ... watching the guests arrive ... while taking in the amazing hats the female guests sported while awaiting their turn to enter the Abbey. Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie, in my opinion, were given a bad rap for their bold choice in headpieces. I mean, it is the Royal Wedding, after all, nothing wrong with standing out in the crowd. Well done you.
Katherine's sister Pippa looked outstanding ... dare I might go as far as saying she stole the show in her form-fitting maid of honor's gown? Princes William and Harry looked very handsome in their military best ... Harry stealing William's thunder by flashing that devilish smile while speaking so softly that only his elder, more dutiful brother could hear .. and the world could only speculate. Katherine arriving with her father and exiting the limo finally revealing that breathtaking gown. Watching the exchange of vows and the horse drawn carriage ride through the streets of London ... and ending with not one, but two kisses, on the balcony of Buckingham Palace.
All in all a jolly good time. So what does this have to do in the context of this blog? Well ... as my last blog posting described in detail ... my life has hit a bit of a rough patch. But my circumstances do not dictate my ability to enjoy everyday life. So, yes, you might find it odd that I dressed and hosted a viewing party for one of the Royal Wedding ... but I think it's a testament to my resilience ... that I will not let my circumstances pull me down into the darkness ... and that I still know how to have a good time ... despite the fact that I am alone.
One of the best things about being 40 is that I have grown into a strong, confident woman who likes what she likes and to heck with everyone else ... and have left behind the insecure, 20-something I used to be. So I encourage you my friends ... to figure out what it is you like to do ... what you enjoy ... and do it ... no matter what anyone else thinks ... just do it.
There is a time before my daughter leaves me to enter the gym to take her place on the court ... whether it be the volleyball or basketball court ... that I take a moment for some last-minute words of encouragement. Along with the good lucks and the play your bests ... is my favorite ... play big or go home. Because that's how I feel about all of life's moments. My life is one big Royal Wedding ... which if you follow the Royal family at all ... you know that they have hit their fair share of roadblocks .. had their fair share of scandalous moments ... faced an enormous amount of scrutiny ... but when they decide to live ... they leave the past in the past ... they play big.
So remember that when you're feeling at the end of your rope ... play big or go home ... show the world that you may be in the valley but you're enjoying the uphill climb. Live your life as if you are exactly where you are meant to be ... that your life is worth living in Royal Wedding style ... and if you say it enough ... eventually you will become to believe it ... because you are valuable ... despite your circumstances.
Yes, my king may have chosen to abdicate his throne ... but I am still Queen of this castle (which is how my favorite Aunty Gypsy jokingly refers to as my home) ... if only for today.
© 2010-2011 Melanie L. Miller All Rights Reserved
I cordially invite you to join me for a look back on the social event of the season ... The Royal Wedding.
I am a nerd of infinite proportion when it comes to all things British. If you were to come to my home for a visit ... you would find my library filled with a vast array of paperback books which sport covers mainly of the pastel variety. A virtual Easter egg hunt displayed on my shelves.
I am a hard core reader of "Chick Lit." Not to be confused with Harlequin romances or Johanna Lindsay novels whose covers feature Fabio in a variety of different poses ... with a damsel in distress standing just out of reach of or wrapped in his ridiculously muscular arms. No. Chick Lit is a genre that involves a wicked sense of humor, a splash of romance and heartbreak and is centered around the misadventures of an imperfect, adorable heroine along with her quirky friends. Think "Bridget Jones." Which was actually a book, by the way, long before it was a movie ... and well worth the read. And I just happen to prefer my Chick Lit to have London as its backdrop.
Most of my favorite movies are set in the UK ... the aforementioned Bridget Jones' Diary ... Love Actually (my favorite holiday movie ... second only to Christmas Vacation) ... Shakespeare in Love ... Four Weddings and a Funeral ... Notting Hill ... just to name a few. The biggest cinematic disappointment of all time? When they took my beloved Rebecca Bloomwood ... heroine extraordinaire from Sophie Kinsela's brilliant Shopaholic series ... a British heroine ... and turned her character into an American. Tragic really ... sigh.
When it comes to men who make me swoon ... give me a dash of the two Hughs ... Grant and Dancy ... throw in a shot of Colin Firth (if you haven't seen the BBC's adaptation of Pride and Prejudice please stop reading and immediately head to your local video store) ... a nightcap of Jude Law ... and let's call it a day.
My love of all things British came at an early age. Through literature. For as long as I can remember ... books have played an important role in my life. On any typical day ... at any particular time ... you will find my nose buried in a book. Finishing approximately one per week. One of my favorite articles of clothing is a T-shirt that says "Reading is Sexy."
My love affair started with Winnie the Pooh, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Through the Looking Glass ... and pretty much everything written by Jane Austen ... whom I believe to be the inventor of the Chick Lit genre. Wuthering Heights is another classic that I revisit from time to time.
I was blessed to have an overly ambitious English teacher whom, in my senior year, dedicated an entire semester to introducing her students to Old English literature. I still remember our first assignment ... to dissect the ancient, epic poem ... Beowulf. From there we traveled through the Canterbury Tales ... fell in love to the poetry of Lord Byron ... and eventually landed in the center of the Globe Theatre ... studying Macbeth. The discovery of Shakespeare for me was like discovering God. At the age of 18, I actually flirted with the idea of becoming an English Lit major in college ... until I realized that the call for such majors were few and far between.
My son and daughter can attest to my great love of all things British as they have had to sit through numerous dinner hours wherein they are required to speak in a British accent. They ask to be excused in order to use the loo, we refer to injustices suffered throughout the day as bollocks, call people we don't care for wanker or say they should bugger off (not charitable references by the way), we call the untrustworthy dodgy, if something takes us by surprise we say we are gobsmacked, we say things like cheers and when we start to tire, we say we are knackered ... yes, it may seem weird to you ... but it's actually a fun way to spend an evening ... and the teenagers like it so much, they invite their friends over so they can show off what a corker their mum is.
So with all of this love ... can you imagine the enormity of my delight and excitement as the day of the Royal Wedding approached? Had I not already left my full-time job ... there is no doubt in my mind that I would have used a vacation day to stay home and witness this blessed event. I remember watching Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer's nuptials as a young girl ... sitting on the floor of my living room ... with my friend Alexandria Troyer ... playing with my Barbie dolls ... transfixed by the spectacle unfolding across the pond. It was magic ... and the wedding of Prince William and Katherine Middleton some 30 years later ... did not disappoint.
I settled in on the special day dressed in my Sunday best ... a "hat" (actually a very large hair pin) placed upon my head ... sipping a steaming cup of Earl Gray tea and enjoying a poppy seed bagel (there were no crumpets to be found in my pantry, go figure) ... watching the guests arrive ... while taking in the amazing hats the female guests sported while awaiting their turn to enter the Abbey. Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie, in my opinion, were given a bad rap for their bold choice in headpieces. I mean, it is the Royal Wedding, after all, nothing wrong with standing out in the crowd. Well done you.
Katherine's sister Pippa looked outstanding ... dare I might go as far as saying she stole the show in her form-fitting maid of honor's gown? Princes William and Harry looked very handsome in their military best ... Harry stealing William's thunder by flashing that devilish smile while speaking so softly that only his elder, more dutiful brother could hear .. and the world could only speculate. Katherine arriving with her father and exiting the limo finally revealing that breathtaking gown. Watching the exchange of vows and the horse drawn carriage ride through the streets of London ... and ending with not one, but two kisses, on the balcony of Buckingham Palace.
All in all a jolly good time. So what does this have to do in the context of this blog? Well ... as my last blog posting described in detail ... my life has hit a bit of a rough patch. But my circumstances do not dictate my ability to enjoy everyday life. So, yes, you might find it odd that I dressed and hosted a viewing party for one of the Royal Wedding ... but I think it's a testament to my resilience ... that I will not let my circumstances pull me down into the darkness ... and that I still know how to have a good time ... despite the fact that I am alone.
One of the best things about being 40 is that I have grown into a strong, confident woman who likes what she likes and to heck with everyone else ... and have left behind the insecure, 20-something I used to be. So I encourage you my friends ... to figure out what it is you like to do ... what you enjoy ... and do it ... no matter what anyone else thinks ... just do it.
There is a time before my daughter leaves me to enter the gym to take her place on the court ... whether it be the volleyball or basketball court ... that I take a moment for some last-minute words of encouragement. Along with the good lucks and the play your bests ... is my favorite ... play big or go home. Because that's how I feel about all of life's moments. My life is one big Royal Wedding ... which if you follow the Royal family at all ... you know that they have hit their fair share of roadblocks .. had their fair share of scandalous moments ... faced an enormous amount of scrutiny ... but when they decide to live ... they leave the past in the past ... they play big.
So remember that when you're feeling at the end of your rope ... play big or go home ... show the world that you may be in the valley but you're enjoying the uphill climb. Live your life as if you are exactly where you are meant to be ... that your life is worth living in Royal Wedding style ... and if you say it enough ... eventually you will become to believe it ... because you are valuable ... despite your circumstances.
Yes, my king may have chosen to abdicate his throne ... but I am still Queen of this castle (which is how my favorite Aunty Gypsy jokingly refers to as my home) ... if only for today.
© 2010-2011 Melanie L. Miller All Rights Reserved
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Finding Myself ...
Alone.
This blog post won't be packed full of witty observations or the lighter fare which my readers have come to expect of me. However, this is an important blog post for me to share so that I may move forward and get back to my old creative self.
So, my dear readers, I have been noticeably absent in my postings of late and much has transpired in my life since I left you last. I did take that leap of faith and strayed away from my comfort zone and left my job to pursue my college degree as a full-time student ... and just three days later, my husband left our household.
My husband has been plagued by a lot of demons over the course of many years and the nature of these demons are not mine to divulge. That is strictly his story to tell. However, his abrupt decision to depart came as quite a shock (and that's putting it mildly). And since rumors tend to spread like wildfire ... I would like to be the one who authors this tale... straight from the horse's mouth so to speak.
I will not go into the details that have led to this separation as there are only four people in this world who need such detail ... my husband, my children and I. What I will say, however, is that my husband is not a bad man ... not a bad husband ... not a bad father. Quite the opposite actually. But as I mentioned above, he has demons to conquer ... and he feels the need to find a way to fight them ... on his own.
And as I have mentioned to you on several occasions ... I struggle with letting go and letting God ... and this has been a test of major magnitude. Allowing my husband to be himself ... allowing him to go on this journey alone. I pray every day that God will walk my husband through this dark valley and carry him through safely to the other side. And what I have learned through much prayer and meditation is that God is the potter ... not me ... and it is necessary that I allow God to continue working in my life and to open my heart so that He can show me the path he has paved for me and my family. I would be lying if I said that this road is not a difficult one. I have had many moments of complete despair. And I will have many more. But faith, hope and love keep me plugging along.
I have openly used my husband in many of my anecdotes since the inception of this blog ... making witty references that my husband is not my BFF and that the union of marriage involves a lot of hard work. And I did once attest to the fact that the only way two people stay married and stay together is because they both want to ... and I stand by that today. Because love is freely given ... and cannot be forced.
My husband and I still love each other ... very much. We love our children very much and are still parenting them together ... and are both very active in helping them get through the enormous amount of change they are being subjected to. We are still very close friends ... we talk daily. We even spent the recent Easter Sunday holiday together as a family. Because we are a family ... a family that, unfortunately, no longer resides together under one roof ... but a family nonetheless. Our separation did not generate from a lack of love ... but sometimes, I suppose, love isn't always enough.
So why share this very personal tidbit with all of you, one might ask. Well, because when I began writing this blog, I felt compelled to be completely honest about my life ... and I have no explanation as to why I felt that way. But the overwhelming number of responses I have received to my silly little posts have led me to believe that I was called to begin this blog for a reason. That I had struck a chord within many of you. So to withhold this important piece of my particular puzzle would hinder me from being true to myself ... and not being true to myself is something that I will not allow.
So with that thought firmly planted in my mind and with the support and encouragement from the "peeps" who are convinced that I have a talent for writing ... I have decided to once again make my debut into the blogging world.
One afternoon over one of our three-hour lunches, the peeps were in their "you need to get back to writing" mode and we were throwing around ideas for the title of my next blog entry. Some of the titles tossed around were ... "Did You Hear About The M's?" ... "The Times They Are A Changing, Part Deux" ... and my personal favorite ... "Holy Sh*t, Have I Got A Story For You!" As you can see, however, none of the aforementioned titles made the cut.
I started this blog because I wanted to share my personal journey into my 40th year as a woman who had a love/hate relationship with age and the bathroom scale. Yes, I still have a love/hate relationship with that pesky bathroom scale ... well, not just the bathroom scale ... I would have a similar relationship with a scale if it were say, in the living room or dining room for that matter ... or in a doctor's office. You get the idea.
What started out as a silly little way to kill the time and make people laugh has actually become so much more. I have shared with you my thoughts, feelings and discoveries about being in the autumn of my life. About how important it is for we, as women (and perhaps my one or two male readers) to take time out for themselves. To take time to enjoy their life. To find time to exercise ... to read ... to write ... to follow their passion ... to try something new. None of which I gave much thought to until I started putting my thoughts down in writing. Obviously, at the time I had absolutely no way of knowing how this story would unfold ... or that I would find myself with exactly this much time on my hands in order to focus on myself. But c'est la vie.
I had some reservations about writing about this subject ... felt it might embarrass my husband or my children. And then I realized that I feel comfortable sharing this portion of my life with you because I have nothing to be ashamed of ... I did everything that I knew how to do to be a good partner ... a good wife ... a good mother. And I have not failed. This is yet another chapter in my life ... and the rest of this particular chapter remains unwritten. And by sharing it ... I can be free ... free to move forward and free to be creative.
If you are someone like my husband and have demons to conquer ... you know you become lost ... broken ... and lose a sense of self. You need to "find yourself" so to speak. And this is where the title of this blog was born ... because I find myself to be fortunate. For I am not lost. I may be broken but I am not defeated ... and I have a very strong sense of self. I know that I am a strong, confident, independent woman who is 40, fabulous and fat (although on a plus side I have lost 16 pounds since all of this went down ... which I definitely wouldn't recommend to any of you ... nor will I patent it as a fast-track to weight loss). I have a lot of work to do on myself ... because I have been part of a "we" for 19 years and am on shaky ground when it comes to just being an "I." I will figure it out.
I am still heading off to school this fall in order to finish my college degree ... I am still on a mission to conquer these extra pounds ... and the lost weight I mentioned above which began as a reaction to stress, I was able to turn into a positive by labling it as a "jump start" to a healthier attitude ... walking whenever I start to feel alone and sorry for myself. I am still going to maintain this blog ... because I love it ... and I believe that perhaps someone out there might benefit from my experience and the hiccups along the way. Tomorrow I will be attending a Zumba class at Curves with the Sargent ... which should provide for a much more entertaining blog post in the future. And I still have my sense of humor and the ability to enjoy my life ... despite my circumstances.
No, I don't need to "find myself," because I am right here ... in the palm of God's hand ... and headed wherever He decides to take me. And arent' you lucky? You get to go alone for the ride ;)
© 2010-2011 Melanie L. Miller All Rights Reserved
This blog post won't be packed full of witty observations or the lighter fare which my readers have come to expect of me. However, this is an important blog post for me to share so that I may move forward and get back to my old creative self.
So, my dear readers, I have been noticeably absent in my postings of late and much has transpired in my life since I left you last. I did take that leap of faith and strayed away from my comfort zone and left my job to pursue my college degree as a full-time student ... and just three days later, my husband left our household.
My husband has been plagued by a lot of demons over the course of many years and the nature of these demons are not mine to divulge. That is strictly his story to tell. However, his abrupt decision to depart came as quite a shock (and that's putting it mildly). And since rumors tend to spread like wildfire ... I would like to be the one who authors this tale... straight from the horse's mouth so to speak.
I will not go into the details that have led to this separation as there are only four people in this world who need such detail ... my husband, my children and I. What I will say, however, is that my husband is not a bad man ... not a bad husband ... not a bad father. Quite the opposite actually. But as I mentioned above, he has demons to conquer ... and he feels the need to find a way to fight them ... on his own.
And as I have mentioned to you on several occasions ... I struggle with letting go and letting God ... and this has been a test of major magnitude. Allowing my husband to be himself ... allowing him to go on this journey alone. I pray every day that God will walk my husband through this dark valley and carry him through safely to the other side. And what I have learned through much prayer and meditation is that God is the potter ... not me ... and it is necessary that I allow God to continue working in my life and to open my heart so that He can show me the path he has paved for me and my family. I would be lying if I said that this road is not a difficult one. I have had many moments of complete despair. And I will have many more. But faith, hope and love keep me plugging along.
I have openly used my husband in many of my anecdotes since the inception of this blog ... making witty references that my husband is not my BFF and that the union of marriage involves a lot of hard work. And I did once attest to the fact that the only way two people stay married and stay together is because they both want to ... and I stand by that today. Because love is freely given ... and cannot be forced.
My husband and I still love each other ... very much. We love our children very much and are still parenting them together ... and are both very active in helping them get through the enormous amount of change they are being subjected to. We are still very close friends ... we talk daily. We even spent the recent Easter Sunday holiday together as a family. Because we are a family ... a family that, unfortunately, no longer resides together under one roof ... but a family nonetheless. Our separation did not generate from a lack of love ... but sometimes, I suppose, love isn't always enough.
So why share this very personal tidbit with all of you, one might ask. Well, because when I began writing this blog, I felt compelled to be completely honest about my life ... and I have no explanation as to why I felt that way. But the overwhelming number of responses I have received to my silly little posts have led me to believe that I was called to begin this blog for a reason. That I had struck a chord within many of you. So to withhold this important piece of my particular puzzle would hinder me from being true to myself ... and not being true to myself is something that I will not allow.
So with that thought firmly planted in my mind and with the support and encouragement from the "peeps" who are convinced that I have a talent for writing ... I have decided to once again make my debut into the blogging world.
One afternoon over one of our three-hour lunches, the peeps were in their "you need to get back to writing" mode and we were throwing around ideas for the title of my next blog entry. Some of the titles tossed around were ... "Did You Hear About The M's?" ... "The Times They Are A Changing, Part Deux" ... and my personal favorite ... "Holy Sh*t, Have I Got A Story For You!" As you can see, however, none of the aforementioned titles made the cut.
I started this blog because I wanted to share my personal journey into my 40th year as a woman who had a love/hate relationship with age and the bathroom scale. Yes, I still have a love/hate relationship with that pesky bathroom scale ... well, not just the bathroom scale ... I would have a similar relationship with a scale if it were say, in the living room or dining room for that matter ... or in a doctor's office. You get the idea.
What started out as a silly little way to kill the time and make people laugh has actually become so much more. I have shared with you my thoughts, feelings and discoveries about being in the autumn of my life. About how important it is for we, as women (and perhaps my one or two male readers) to take time out for themselves. To take time to enjoy their life. To find time to exercise ... to read ... to write ... to follow their passion ... to try something new. None of which I gave much thought to until I started putting my thoughts down in writing. Obviously, at the time I had absolutely no way of knowing how this story would unfold ... or that I would find myself with exactly this much time on my hands in order to focus on myself. But c'est la vie.
I had some reservations about writing about this subject ... felt it might embarrass my husband or my children. And then I realized that I feel comfortable sharing this portion of my life with you because I have nothing to be ashamed of ... I did everything that I knew how to do to be a good partner ... a good wife ... a good mother. And I have not failed. This is yet another chapter in my life ... and the rest of this particular chapter remains unwritten. And by sharing it ... I can be free ... free to move forward and free to be creative.
If you are someone like my husband and have demons to conquer ... you know you become lost ... broken ... and lose a sense of self. You need to "find yourself" so to speak. And this is where the title of this blog was born ... because I find myself to be fortunate. For I am not lost. I may be broken but I am not defeated ... and I have a very strong sense of self. I know that I am a strong, confident, independent woman who is 40, fabulous and fat (although on a plus side I have lost 16 pounds since all of this went down ... which I definitely wouldn't recommend to any of you ... nor will I patent it as a fast-track to weight loss). I have a lot of work to do on myself ... because I have been part of a "we" for 19 years and am on shaky ground when it comes to just being an "I." I will figure it out.
I am still heading off to school this fall in order to finish my college degree ... I am still on a mission to conquer these extra pounds ... and the lost weight I mentioned above which began as a reaction to stress, I was able to turn into a positive by labling it as a "jump start" to a healthier attitude ... walking whenever I start to feel alone and sorry for myself. I am still going to maintain this blog ... because I love it ... and I believe that perhaps someone out there might benefit from my experience and the hiccups along the way. Tomorrow I will be attending a Zumba class at Curves with the Sargent ... which should provide for a much more entertaining blog post in the future. And I still have my sense of humor and the ability to enjoy my life ... despite my circumstances.
No, I don't need to "find myself," because I am right here ... in the palm of God's hand ... and headed wherever He decides to take me. And arent' you lucky? You get to go alone for the ride ;)
© 2010-2011 Melanie L. Miller All Rights Reserved
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