Boston

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Have not posted for quite some time, been in and out of a deep blue funk.  Don't know where it came from, it was just there one day.  Like a big, old toad sitting in the middle of my happy and refusing to budge.  No matter how many pep talks I gave myself, how many "I Am Grateful For ..." lists I made, how many brunches and gab sessions with friends, I was still in a funk.  The nasty, warty toad would hop off for a while, but it'd be back and just sit there.  It was really bugging me.  Normally I can shake off the blues pretty well.  I mean, truly I know how very, very blessed I am.  Appreciate everyone and everything I have around me.  Good friends, my cocoon, my job (even though at times it makes me nuts, but that's normal).  One of my friends who tends to be a bit of a sourpuss always looks at me, snorts and says "You are just too damn happy sometimes!"  It's not a sappy-foolish happy, I really do appreciate those around me, the little things which add up to the big things.  I know there's a lot of hurt out there and I am blessed to be inside a nice, safe, protected little bubble most of the time.  So it was really annoying me that I could not shake this toad off me.  I was feeling more tired every day, to the point it took a Herculean effort to get out of bed and off to the office every day.  Stressed to the max. Panic attacks back in full force.  Stepping out onto my porch was a white-knuckle, sweaty palm deal every single morning.  Combined with the whiny bitters.  Ugh.

My Lovely Whimble Journal

My friends and my Trifecta Plus One blogs and websites  (Rx For the Soul, Hollye Jacobs' and Frances Schultz' blogs and my beloved Whimbles), and a LOT of praying and journaling, have kept me (relatively) sane during this bump in the road.  Writing for my beloved Whimbles.  I do love sending those little stories off and then seeing them transformed into these wonderful gems in the Whimble Diary.  Writing in general.  And God bless my neighbors who, when a particularly nasty panic attack made its presence known, ran over and held my hand until it passed and I was on back on, sort of, even keel.  Plus my pretty little garden was decimated by some odd creature who just chomped on all my plants, from my roses to my jasmine and even my hanging basket of different types of mints, all chomped on, gone, eaten down to little nubs, except for the plumbagos and ferns, thank Heavens they have survived.   My gardener says it may be a possum, but I've never heard of a possum scaling a wall to get at a hanging basket.  Besides the possums around here are quite well-fed, they eat dinner with the little homeless cats I feed every night.  The first possum I saw freaked me out, I couldn't figure out if it was a really, really big rat or some kind of weird-looking skunk, in my defense it was dark and all I saw was that snout with a white stripe and little beady eyes.  Don't know who was more shocked the possum or me.

Finally had it with feeling sick and tired, went to see a new doctor this past Monday.  Diagnosis, arthritis, herniated disc and a serious Vitamin D deficiency which was the main culprit for feeling so darn dragged-out tired.  These issues are being addressed, series of B12 shots, some new meds, I am feeling perkier already and it's only been a few days.  Monday afternoon I was sitting at my desk, grousing about some judge who has to make everything complicated, then a weird kind of quiet came over our office, which is usually really, really chatty, I heard one of the girls say "Oh, no, no, no!" and I clicked on cnn.com.  The news about Boston had just hit and in a heartbeat the world changed.  Perspective shifted to what is REALLY important.  It was deja vu.  Memories of 9/11.  It had happened again.  In a smaller venue, but just as horrific.  Just as heinous.

My first response whenever we are attacked, whether as a country or as individuals, is anger.  Then retaliation.  I feel very protective about the U.S.  Having essentially lost one country, I am very protective of this one.  I always say we are continually bashed in the news, both national and international, yet we are the only country people consistently want to come to and risk their lives to enter, no matter how lousy they claim we are.  They come here, complain about it, but they don't leave.  And they do here what they would never do in their country.  I realize some of that is because of the extraordinary freedoms we have (and a lot of us take for granted).  But still, those that come here, then turn around and moan and whine about how horrible we are, it's like WTF?  Didn't you WANT to come here?  Yeah, okay, we're not perfect, granted.  But, shoot, if we are such a mess then why did you choose to come here?  Hello?  That attitude bugs me, always has, always will.  To have slugs trying to sow the seeds of terrorism here angers me.  Terrorists are not heroes, they are not brave, they are not warriors fighting for a cause they believe in.  They are cowards who attack innocents.  Bullies who hide their faces and drop their hideous packages, then slink away to watch their mayhem unfold from a safe distance.  They are the worst of humanity, who seek only to destroy, terrify.  Obliterate good, beauty, destroy our soul.  My first reaction was anger, a deep, horrible anger.  Then I remembered right after the London bombings some years ago, the website that had sprung up with the slogan "No Fear."  I love that.  I saw the people running not away from, but towards the victims, seeking to help.  I saw the slogan of "No Fear" come to life and I thought, oh, you whoever you are, you faceless cowards, you are nothing.  If you think you are going to make us run, you are way off.  We will not cower, we will not run and hide.  We will come through this.  We will persevere.  We are AMERICANS.

 

Beauty

Reading Frances Schultz' blog post entitled "What We Can Do About Boston" the next day, Tuesday, the 16th, got me inspired to post again.  It's been far too long since I got on my well-worn soapbox.  She answered one of her readers' comments with this wonderful quote "We always have a choice to act. It is in believing we do not have choices that we become victims in the energetic sense." I wrote and asked her if I could quote her, she answered, gracious as always, saying she had gotten it from Christel Nani, founder of the Center for Spiritual Responsibility.  I love that quote, it is right on point. We do have a choice.  Always.  I have a very, very dear friend who battled breast cancer many years ago.  Talked to her a few weeks ago and she told me it's back.  She had just finished treatment and was going off on a cruise with her husband to celebrate the conclusion of her treatment.  This is someone who has seen her share of tragedy, yet her view of life is nothing if not optimistic, courageous and joyful.  She told me she has two choices and she has chosen to take joy.  She holds on to the beauty there is in the world.  She is one of my heroes.

Butterfly and Roses

I realized the deep blue funk lost its grip on me.  Life is so dear and so fragile.  We must refuse to let evil blot out the beauty in the world.  We must stand firm and refuse it access to our souls, our homes, our lives.  So, yeah, evil was loose in Boston this Monday.  It is ever-present in the world.  But we have a choice.  We either turn tail and cower in a corner or we go forth, live our lives in faith, take joy and refuse to be intimidated.  We will mourn our lost, help the survivors in any and all ways we possibly can.  I repeat.  We WILL come through this.  We WILL persevere. We are AMERICANS.  I've used this image of the butterfly before, they say butterflies are a symbol of rebirth, this one is for the victims, the survivors, the lost.  Godspeed.

Until next time, keep the faith, be blessed, be safe, be loved.