So...the Deed Has Been Done

My emotions have ran the gammet this past week; even more so since the announcement that few saw coming. Granted, the big decision has been playing ball with me for some time now, and up until last week, I had always won. Many debates as to why I should, and why I should not, have been voiced. Lovingly voiced. Time, and time again...

And now, here I sit, stirring the mushrooms in my coffee with the cinnamon stick that sits lazily in the coffee cup until needed. I'm tired. Very tired. Not only did what I thought to be allergies/sinus issues, turn into a full blown head & chest cold, sleep also, has escaped me for nigh on a week now. I'm tired. Really tired. Yet, I force my body to come under subjection and move forward. Except for this moment. Needing a chair to take the weight of my body off my feet, at least for a moment, I chose the tried and true; the faithful office chair. I do love my office. My study. My hide-away. I do.

Still coughing up a lung and a half, I navigated the back-and-forth of STAY OUT OF MY SALON messages over the weekend. Yet, the messages just weren't taking hold, or they hit more than one wall and was took out, never to live. I'm a person that always crosses my "t's" and dot my "i's". It's the best I can do to preserve my way of life. Yet the unexpected has a way of happening, regardless of how hard one tries to escape it. And therein lies my distrust of humanity. Even my own humanity...sometimes.

To say I am super happy that I installed a Foscam (that's a story for another time) inside my studio, is an understatement of mega proportions. As I think about the ramifications of what would have happened, had it not been on duty yesterday, makes me take deep breaths of gratitude, when I can get one. A deep breath, that is. That sweet little addition caught workers hired to upgrade a few things (floors & mirrors), in the process of taking my salon apart, piece by piece. Most likely, I startled the begeebers out of them when my groggy, hoarse & raspy voice (that gurgled and sneezed occasionally from irritated nasal passages), came yelling through the small voice command center. "STOP! WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!!" I tried calming myself, as I knew it wasn't their fault. They were there to do their job as ordered, and with a tower of jewelry in their careful hands, they froze in place. It appears that I wasn't the only one who has cut the cord...if you know what I mean. It's likely you don't, 'cause I'm not always clear.

I have spoken to several of the workers, off and on, during the time they have been in the studios, tearing up and replacing. They seem really nice, so I'm kinda sorry I yelled at them. But I wasn't sure if the thing (the Foscam) really worked or not. It was the first time I had to use it. So I yelled. I was suppose to, right? They showed me their work orders, so I had to be the mean suite owner, and assure them I had covered the confirmation of putting my studio renovation on hold until I moved out, aka/closed my business, and to please contact their supervisor.

Did I mention how tired I am? Anyway...I had to push my body out the door and head to the salon, a 7 minute drive that happened in 3. Maybe 4. They had indeed stopped removing, and had gotten everything back in the studio by the time I arrived. All I had to do was reposition and re-clean what had been moved out. I survived...

So...back to paragraph ONE of this rabbit trail:

    The deed that had been planned to run so smoothly, the RETIREMENT on my 78th birthday announcement, had suddenly taken a deadly turn. 

        Not a good turn. The social media content had launched before it was suppose to since I didn't "schedule" it. My fault. Kinda. 

When I am deep in thought, 

            deep in the mix of whatever is needing done; 

                        to be distracted in the middle of it, well...I can't be held responsible for what transpires.

So, that happened last Sunday. Throbbing headache, blurry eyes, and achy body had to move quickly. Something my brain wasn't ready for. The emails had to be sent (since social media had been notified) without being as complete as I had planned. I suppose another email blast is in order for a bit later.

Something (business room mistake), I suppose, had to be added to the mix just to make this whole thing a memory hard to forget. Gotta love those memories. The good, the not-so-good, the undesirable.

I am soooooo tired of laying in bed, but now I think it's calling me again. But first, where's the Tylenol?

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

Decisions That Cause Pain or...Love Can Be Painful

 

I made my grand-baby cry last night. Something a grand-parent never wants to do. Yet, a decision had to be made, and in retrospect, it may have been the least productive one, for it caused great disappointment and emotion.

She and I have played guessing games from time to time, and I feel like I just lost this one. There is one called "which hand is it in", where you put something in one of your hands, stretch both behind your back and pretend to switch out whatever the "thing" is, between the two. Then bring both hands front and center, and the other person guesses which hand it ended up in. This was what I was doing with the situation at hand. In one hand was, "Do I ignore the fact Momma only has 5 minutes more of work and is expecting us there at that time (a 10 minute drive...already late), and give in to our little girls desire?" Or, in the other hand, "Do I do everything in my power to make sure both are well taken care of, especially since it was a school night, and our little is still in recovery mode from being sick?" Our girls momma (our daughter) has been extensively stretching herself for quite some time now, so I leaned toward getting her home to prepare her girl for the evening hours. At least, that was what I felt best...

Earlier...right after picking her up from school, she had laid her head on the dining table (very tired), with arms outstretched and asked me to "tickle" them. Her mom used to love that also. She spent the next 5 minutes, or so, relaxing to the soothing touch of fingers gently gliding over her arms. I thought she had gone to sleep, but no. 

Today was "mail day" for her, in which the "mailwoman" left a bottle of nail polish. So she painted my fingernails. I asked if I could fix her something to eat, but she had other plans that didn't fit in the narrow window of time we had remaining. She opted for just 2 slices of plain bread instead of a sandwich or something cooked. So maybe that would hold her over until she got home to eat with mom. She was ready to go to the park on this beautiful day, even though it was only 15 minutes before we had to take her to her mom. 

The day didn't end well, and I haven't slept all night because of it. I've gotten a lot of things done, however. Childs car seat has been removed and disassembled, liner washed and dried, base of car seat scrubbed and sanitized with Pine Sol, all car seats, body straps and strap locks cleaned and sanitized; hair brushes soaked in vinegar, rinsed, and now soaking in baking soda waiting to be rescued; a sink full of dirty pots and pans are washed and drying; a ton of boxes are now broken down for disposal (this is the time I will get mega online orders and need them); 3 loads of laundry almost complete, coffee brewing, and finally I get to stop for a bit. And it's only 4 AM. After a small break, I'll get back to the kitchen and do a little organizing before my body demands sleep.

I am so very grateful for family. For grace when it's needed the most. For a great place to call "home" and for all the challenges life provides us. It's been said, and I agree, "It doesn't matter how many times you fall (or fail), it's how many times you get back up."

Today, I will be apologizing to our little girl and letting her know how sorry her Grams is for causing such hurt in her little heart. I know none of us (including her) is exempt from a mirage of feelings as life is lived. I just don't want to be the one causing that pain, or anxious thoughts. For her, for any of us really, life can show itself difficult when we're tired, hungry, and just not feeling so well. I should have considered that a little more than I did.

"When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I (paraphrased)". ~Psalm 61:2

As always, here you'll find me...in Mary's World

Dead or Alive

 I can feel myself giving up. I don't like this feeling…it's never been a part of me.

Those around me try to encourage me. They sometimes speak harshly to me, as they tell me of the disappointment they feel upon hearing my words express failure. They're not accustomed to that. They want to push me forward, no matter how it's done. And they quietly take on my heaviness…

Sounds pretty dim, doesn't it? In reality, I will never give up on life, but I might give up on trying to resuscitate that which is seemingly dead. Most people go through stages of wanting to quit, because what they have put their hand(s) to, just hasn't produced what they expected. It's not that enough time wasn't given to produce…

Last night was the kicker. I poured over my books looking for reasons not to bury the dead horse, instead of pushing her to live. She still breathes, albeit shallow, but none-the-less...breathing. There is a small amount of life, but it's as if she weighs 2 ton and cannot move beyond the borders of her small, little box. Is it because I'm so used to prosperity? Used to having work in front of me, once I arrive? So used to familiar faces and activity? Accustomed to the sound and feel of life?

I must face the ultimate questions. Is it truly a different season, a different calling, a different purpose or need for my life? How long is long enough? 1 year, 2 years, 3 years? How long should I hold onto
this thing I have called opportunity? How tightly should I hold on? Did I somehow miss the mark? How do I stir up excitement in what I do…again, when all my efforts never seem to be enough?

I've never believed in retirement. I always have, and still do, believe there is something we can put our hands to as long as we have breath. Something that produces fruit from our labors. Yet, too much of a good thing (without challenges), will bring the stench of death. You know it's true. We all have walked this path, or will, at some point in our lives. It's there for a reason. There's only one other time I've walked this way. It was during times of hiding. Hiding from life. Hiding from fear of being seen. Hiding for fear of my life. And the quietness that surrounded those times, was deafening. Still is…so what am I afraid of, NOW?

During the times of hiding, voices come into your mind…loud and clear. Fear of those voices mocking you, making fun of you, chiding you, showing disappointment in you...all so very overwhelming! You tend to notice body language, when there are no words coming from the recipient of your questions. Smirks, the infamous eye-roll, the shaking of the head (however minimal it might be). You notice the increased volume in people's voices, as they respond to you…when they respond to you. Who are we dealing with here? Is it others? Or ourselves?

King David, from Old Testament readings, once said, "I have been young, and now I am old; yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, or his descendants begging bread." ~Psalm 37:25 Can that be true? Was that meant to be a universal statement? There is no way of knowing, for sure, the completeness of what David was saying. Or can we? All we can rightly suppose, is that because of the trust we have in God, we push ourselves to be productive people. And with that push, we depend on God for results. If the results are not there, we may need to consider if we are choosing rightly. Right? Or maybe we've chosen our path without inviting God to direct our steps...because we're quite capable of managing our own lives, thank you.

Change is ever present. And even though "there is nothing new under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:9-10), change in individual lives constantly happens. Nothing stays the same..in our body, in our conscience state of mind, in our observations, in our livelihood, in our spiritual debates, etc., etc. It's all happened before we came along. It's not a new thing. It shouldn't surprise us when those who have lived a long life, understand our dilemmas. Never tell an old person they can't possibly understand because this is a new era. Geez…how long does it take us to understand there is wisdom that comes from living life, that when applied to life, actually makes a difference in the outcome of life?

Sometimes it seems as though I am doing the same thing, over and over and over, while all along expecting different results. We all know what that means, right? Albert Einstein claimed it to be insanity. We must change with change. We must not try to hold onto what God is prying out of our hands…so-to-speak. Can we continue to express what has been our passion for so many years but possibly in a different scenario? Can passion change for lack of activity? Can it die? When life goes out of our passion, how, or can, it live again?

I think this vein has been tapped. It's collapsed, and gives no life. Now, what do I do? It is a grievous task to be afflicted with. It all seems to be in vain…like striving after the wind."

_________________________________________________________________________________

What you just read was a post from July 18, 2014, saved to a draft. I was feeling lost after almost 2

years of what seemed like butting my head against the proverbial wall as I tried to establish a new business in a new state. The post never got published. As I searched through the archives, looking for a particular article and never finding it, I ran across this one titled, "Dead or Alive". It peaked my interest.


Today is February 29, 2016. Maybe, since it's been a year and 7 months ago that my world looked so glum, I should tap into what seemed a mind set on that particular day and see if there may have been answers along the way. I will share the most recent...

Yesterday, Sunday morning, Feb. 28, 2016...I was eating breakfast when a thought entered my mind. Dennis had gone to serve at the church, so I was alone with my thoughts. I like those moments. *wink*

Thought #1: "Sometimes you need to chase the wind. You just may find yourself mounting up with wings as those of an eagle." Scripture reference from Isaiah 40:31 says, "...but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." Ahhh...sweet confirmation (notice the very last sentence of the 2014 post). Interesting. Yes?

It has long been said that those who "chase the wind" are living in a fantasy world. That they are trying to cause something to happen that has "impossible" written all over it. If there has been anything I've learned during the years of my existence, it is that the impossible is the place you find God the most. That's His territory. That's where He can show himself faithful. That is the place where you finally realize your abilities are not the end all. Where we fail, God does not. It all has purpose and if we look close enough, we'll see God's hand at work in our lives. Not just our businesses. They are both the same, really. We cannot, or at least, should not, be a different person at work than at home. We are to be who we were created to be, wherever we find ourselves to be.

Thought #2: So, what does this look like, for me and the business we began in 2012? How do I "chase the wind?"
     1. I must extend myself in the difficult areas of what I do.
     2. I must continue to educate myself in industry changes, as I listen for God's guidance.
     3. I must run towards the impossible...prove God's faithfulness.
     4. I must increase my energy levels by eating healthy at ALL times. We are to honor our physical bodies that were designed by God, maintained by us.
     5. I must think bigger than myself and the space I take up. Give more than I get.
     6. I must push through barriers. Resistance creates strength.
     7. I must not allow discouragement to consume my thoughts.

I was so pumped after this "revelation." I can do this! Take care of grand-baby during the week-days, work at the salon, nights and weekends. Then I went to church. And what does the pastor minister on?  Patience. I was all over that, with ears perked up, confirming my decision to push through difficult work hours...until the last word he spoke for the day. He said, "The first service didn't get this story..." And then he told about a particular tribe that enjoyed eating certain types of monkeys. They always had a hard time catching them, so they set a trap filled with food so that when the monkey reached for the food, it's hand could not be removed, because it was unwilling to let go of the food. He used the illustration to tell us to let go of what we were holding onto so tightly. Then we could live. WHAT?!!!

Back to the drawing board, because that story was just for me, right? Patience in letting go of what I've always thought to be good for me. Death would give way to life, if I'd just let go.

And this, my friends, is how my mind treats me ALL. THE. TIME. I make what I feel to be an excellent decision. A God led decision. And then, bam! The for-sure decision gets knocked out of the ballpark, just so I can go searching again for that darn ball. Maybe that's my problem! I keep searching for the ball that was thrown out. Oh my goodness......

There may be changes in the seasons of my life, the chapters of my life book, where I continue to try and create what used to produce life in another reality (instead of letting go), but I'll never give up on the One who directs my steps, all found here...in Mary's World. Stay tuned...