Apparently, we weren't the only ones to journey across Texas, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah. Hidden among our enormous truckload of belongings, a small gecko held on for dear life. Hot, bumpy and long, our journey took 3 days to drive from Plano, Texas, to Salt Lake City, Utah. Since we were exhausted, I can only imagine how tired the little gecko was considering, unlike us, he didn't have the luxury of food or water.
Although we brought along many things from Texas and even Texans themselves, the discovery of our secret passenger made me ponder how far we were from Texas considering Utah probably isn't hospitable to a little lizard from Texas. Fortunately, the gecko was found by a groovy chica who doesn't flinch at the idea of caring for the little rascal. Armed with a background in science and a knack for caring for creatures, Nikki confidently assumed the role of caretaker. We should know in a few days whether the little creature adapts to his new home.
As for us, we are adapting quite well. It is absolutely gorgeous here and surprisingly comfortable. Oddly enough, I continue to find elements of my old home. For instance, as we crossed over the Utah border, we stopped at a groovy restaurant in Monticello, Utah, called the Peace Cafe or something hippy sounding like that. One minute I was feeling how far from home we were but then I walked into a room that sent me back. It's pretty remarkable how certain smells can trigger very distinct memories and something about one of the rooms of the restaurant smelled just like my grandmother's house. Perhaps it was the age of the house or a certain kind of soap but I had never found that scent anywhere but at her house. Now that she is no longer with us and I'm unable to visit her house, I was comforted that perhaps I'd still have opportunities to connect with memories of her despite how far away I am from Texas.
While I was touched by a sense of home then, I have experienced many things which are far from it, although most of them are quite pleasant. For instance, I have enjoyed being outside more often throughout the day due to the cooler temperatures. I have been able to be outside in the late afternoon and evening without being bitten by mosquitos. I took a 10 minute drive up into a beautiful canyon and saw mountain rivers rushing along the road.
Of course, not everything is so pleasant, although I can't say I have experienced anything truly negative either. The fact that my Texas accent stands out like a sore thumb does make me feel a bit conspicuous. I also feel that I have dried out due to the lack of humidity which causes me to drink gallons of water a day. I still don't know how to get around here, although I did successfully get out alone today and find my way around a bit. (I had to pat myself on the shoulder for that one but I have to hand it to the city planners though because the city is laid out in a pretty orderly fashion.)
So, as I sit and rock outside listening to beautiful mourning doves (who thankfully live here too), I feel a sense of tranquility that I haven't enjoyed for a very long time. I do miss home for sure and I especially miss my family but my heart is telling me that it really needed this and I'm thankful we did it and am grateful to those who helped us get here.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tired giggles
Apparently, I'm the best at using the fancy box tape mechanism. If you need a box taped up, I'm the chic. Confident in my abilities, I expertly began taping the bubble wrap surrounding a huge mirror from our dresser which was being supported by my husband and my mother-in-law. As my father-in-law rolled out the wrap and I taped, we were in the flow and were feeling very proficient until I got the tape all tangled and half stuff to the wrap and myself and anything in its way. So much for being the tape diva. Tired to the bone, we all found ourselves giggling relentlessly at the ridiculous situation and the laughter felt great.
Today, within hours, I found out that I don't have breast cancer, the house sale went through and Chris had a good interview for a job. Not bad considering how much of a beating the last few days have been. So, as we hustled and bustled to pack up the remaining items, it was great to have a moment of silly, tired laughter as we shared in a moment of fun after a very long day which followed a very long trial of various hardships to get to this moment and we're here and it's nice.
Since we're moving I won't be posting for a few days. Until then, may everyone be happy and well. My next post will be from Salt Lake City, Utah.
Today, within hours, I found out that I don't have breast cancer, the house sale went through and Chris had a good interview for a job. Not bad considering how much of a beating the last few days have been. So, as we hustled and bustled to pack up the remaining items, it was great to have a moment of silly, tired laughter as we shared in a moment of fun after a very long day which followed a very long trial of various hardships to get to this moment and we're here and it's nice.
Since we're moving I won't be posting for a few days. Until then, may everyone be happy and well. My next post will be from Salt Lake City, Utah.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Drowning
When I was little, I had an aquarium. I spent countless hours sitting in front of it watching my fish live out their lives. Most of the time, it was peaceful to sit there and watch them swim from one glass wall to the next, chasing each other or idling in one spot staring vacantly at something I couldn't see. At other times, I learned important life lessons such as the cruelty of nature and the inevitability of death.
I remember being panicked when I would discover a fish who was ailing. If they had a disease called ick, I put some kind of medicine in the water but I don't recall whether it ever worked. Most of the time, I'd find myself witnessing the fish's struggle to live despite his or her body's efforts to die. As its body became more limp and its attempt to swim grew weaker and more infrequent, I would become enraged and horrified as its fellow fish took advantage of the ailing fish's weakness and would begin to peck at it in a cannibalistic fashion. As the fish flailed around, struggling with every move, the healthy fish swam by and pecked at it impassively, not seeming to recognize what it was they were eating.
Thankfully, I'm not the fish and I'm in good health as far as I know but I am struggling. I'll be completely honest: my life is incredibly hard right now and there are times when I feel I'm not up to the task despite my best efforts. Unfortunately, while dealing with the often overwhelming task of raising 3 boys 3 and under (not to mention moving, being concerned about breast cancer, and all the aggravations one typically experiences in life), I find that there are some who take jabs at me when I'm at my weakest but, thankfully, there are also those who lift me up to the surface.
So, as I flail around over the next weeks, I sincerely hope that I can keep the nibblers at bay and that I can rely on the sturdiness of those who selflessly can help me stay afloat.
I remember being panicked when I would discover a fish who was ailing. If they had a disease called ick, I put some kind of medicine in the water but I don't recall whether it ever worked. Most of the time, I'd find myself witnessing the fish's struggle to live despite his or her body's efforts to die. As its body became more limp and its attempt to swim grew weaker and more infrequent, I would become enraged and horrified as its fellow fish took advantage of the ailing fish's weakness and would begin to peck at it in a cannibalistic fashion. As the fish flailed around, struggling with every move, the healthy fish swam by and pecked at it impassively, not seeming to recognize what it was they were eating.
Thankfully, I'm not the fish and I'm in good health as far as I know but I am struggling. I'll be completely honest: my life is incredibly hard right now and there are times when I feel I'm not up to the task despite my best efforts. Unfortunately, while dealing with the often overwhelming task of raising 3 boys 3 and under (not to mention moving, being concerned about breast cancer, and all the aggravations one typically experiences in life), I find that there are some who take jabs at me when I'm at my weakest but, thankfully, there are also those who lift me up to the surface.
So, as I flail around over the next weeks, I sincerely hope that I can keep the nibblers at bay and that I can rely on the sturdiness of those who selflessly can help me stay afloat.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Choices
If you think about it, the act of making a choice is such a fundamental part of being a free spirit. Choices send us in a variety of directions, influencing our futures in ways we often can't grasp when making them. For some, choices are frightening. For others they're exciting. For many, choices are made without realization by a sleeping mind.
For those who chose to view the world in terms of good or bad, choices can be a frightening dilemma since there is the 50-50 risk of failure. If one strives to be perfect and unerring, it is essential to make only "safe" choices or those deemed to have the least risk factors. Although this perspective has its own validity, I find it stifling and limiting. I also feel that life is still too unpredictable for any life to truly be safe at all. Ultimately, the biggest fear (death) is awaiting all of us no matter how cautious we are.
On the other hand, there are those who take big risks and, speaking in cliche, throw caution to the wind. Blown from one whim to the next, their lives run the risk of being aimless and immature as they avoid being grounded in responsibility as they repeatedly make choices that help them escape themselves and their troubles.
I can't help but ask myself whether I'm more cautious or more whimsical with the choices I make but I find it hard to separate what it is I believe from what I think important people in my life believe about my choices. As I try to untangle the answer to this question, I can't help but feel I'm a mixture of both and that I often fluctuate back and forth between the two. I have noticed that I feel more calm about major decisions in the day when I'm fully rested and more insecure and cautious at night when I'm tired and trying to sleep. I'm not the first to notice that anxieties manifest themselves more dominantly at night. I believe it was the Navajos who had an expression along the lines of "even spotted leopards look black at night," or something along those lines.
Rather than viewing a choice in its simplest form, I can't help but ponder judgments regarding whether decisions are viewed as good or bad by ourselves and by others. Lately, I have listened to a variety of opinions about our moving to Salt Lake City. The more cautious a person is the more negatively they view our moving. The more adventurous they are the more they support it. However, we do have a few friends who I would neither characterize as overly cautious nor overly flighty who feel that, although there is risk involved in our move, we made the decision after very careful consideration. Perhaps I'm seeking support here but I would have to agree with them.
As the coming week unfolds out in front of us, I'm a bit intimidated by the many, many things we need to take care of. From packing, closing on the house, and moving to getting a biopsy (the mammogram was inconclusive) three days before we leave, I'm a bit overwhelmed by it all. As much as Chris and I support each other and our decision, I can't help but desire support from those who are, at the least, ambivalent or, at the most, are unsupportive altogether. Ultimately, the choice has been made and we intend to follow through as long as it is meant to be. I guess I have to make the choice to trust myself and my husband and to know in my heart that we're not making a reckless choice by trying to provide a better life for ourselves and our children.
So, as the time approaches 11:00 p.m., I'm reaching for a peaceful mind that will not only allow me to have a restful sleep but one that accepts the misgivings of others without taking on their feelings as my own.
For those who chose to view the world in terms of good or bad, choices can be a frightening dilemma since there is the 50-50 risk of failure. If one strives to be perfect and unerring, it is essential to make only "safe" choices or those deemed to have the least risk factors. Although this perspective has its own validity, I find it stifling and limiting. I also feel that life is still too unpredictable for any life to truly be safe at all. Ultimately, the biggest fear (death) is awaiting all of us no matter how cautious we are.
On the other hand, there are those who take big risks and, speaking in cliche, throw caution to the wind. Blown from one whim to the next, their lives run the risk of being aimless and immature as they avoid being grounded in responsibility as they repeatedly make choices that help them escape themselves and their troubles.
I can't help but ask myself whether I'm more cautious or more whimsical with the choices I make but I find it hard to separate what it is I believe from what I think important people in my life believe about my choices. As I try to untangle the answer to this question, I can't help but feel I'm a mixture of both and that I often fluctuate back and forth between the two. I have noticed that I feel more calm about major decisions in the day when I'm fully rested and more insecure and cautious at night when I'm tired and trying to sleep. I'm not the first to notice that anxieties manifest themselves more dominantly at night. I believe it was the Navajos who had an expression along the lines of "even spotted leopards look black at night," or something along those lines.
Rather than viewing a choice in its simplest form, I can't help but ponder judgments regarding whether decisions are viewed as good or bad by ourselves and by others. Lately, I have listened to a variety of opinions about our moving to Salt Lake City. The more cautious a person is the more negatively they view our moving. The more adventurous they are the more they support it. However, we do have a few friends who I would neither characterize as overly cautious nor overly flighty who feel that, although there is risk involved in our move, we made the decision after very careful consideration. Perhaps I'm seeking support here but I would have to agree with them.
As the coming week unfolds out in front of us, I'm a bit intimidated by the many, many things we need to take care of. From packing, closing on the house, and moving to getting a biopsy (the mammogram was inconclusive) three days before we leave, I'm a bit overwhelmed by it all. As much as Chris and I support each other and our decision, I can't help but desire support from those who are, at the least, ambivalent or, at the most, are unsupportive altogether. Ultimately, the choice has been made and we intend to follow through as long as it is meant to be. I guess I have to make the choice to trust myself and my husband and to know in my heart that we're not making a reckless choice by trying to provide a better life for ourselves and our children.
So, as the time approaches 11:00 p.m., I'm reaching for a peaceful mind that will not only allow me to have a restful sleep but one that accepts the misgivings of others without taking on their feelings as my own.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Spilled cheerios
Nothing like a good, old fashioned breast cancer scare to make life a tiny bit more dramatic. With a family history of breast cancer, I felt it was only smart to get a mammogram after I turned 35. I'm sure it's probably nothing but they need a more detailed mammogram of an area in question - one week before I move out of my home state.
When I'm feeling sorry for myself, which is unfortunately too often these days, it's hard not to laugh at how ridiculous my life has been over the past few years. From twin babies, hospital stays, an ovarian cancer scare and subsequent surgery, the death of my grandmother, putting our house on the market, 52 showings, packing the house up and the emotional ramifications of my moving away from my family, I thought that perhaps I had had enough doo doo thrown my way but apparently not. One thing that I have learned is that my childhood idea of an easy life has evaporated into a stressful, amazing, insane, wonderful, nutso life and the best way to enjoy the best parts are to push my way through the crummy ones.
So, today I go in for the second mammogram. Although they reassure me that it's probably nothing, it's not easy for my mind not to go down the path of what if they're wrong. I'm waiting for them to prove the negative - that I don't have cancer - but until then I have keep on packing, pick up spilled cheerios and wait for the results.
When I'm feeling sorry for myself, which is unfortunately too often these days, it's hard not to laugh at how ridiculous my life has been over the past few years. From twin babies, hospital stays, an ovarian cancer scare and subsequent surgery, the death of my grandmother, putting our house on the market, 52 showings, packing the house up and the emotional ramifications of my moving away from my family, I thought that perhaps I had had enough doo doo thrown my way but apparently not. One thing that I have learned is that my childhood idea of an easy life has evaporated into a stressful, amazing, insane, wonderful, nutso life and the best way to enjoy the best parts are to push my way through the crummy ones.
So, today I go in for the second mammogram. Although they reassure me that it's probably nothing, it's not easy for my mind not to go down the path of what if they're wrong. I'm waiting for them to prove the negative - that I don't have cancer - but until then I have keep on packing, pick up spilled cheerios and wait for the results.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
High standards
I realized just now that my standards have really changed these days. I guess you could say that they've shifted away from me and toward my children. As I was preparing for a morning outing with the boys, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror: hair in a lazy bun, no makeup, teeth unbrushed, clothes covered in pancake mix and I decided that perhaps I could make myself look a little "less than shitty".
The sad thing is that is my new standard for myself. When I said those words to myself (in my head and not out loud - I do have a little sanity left), I was struck by how little regard I have for myself these days. It's not that I don't care about myself or how I appear to the world, it's that I seriously don't have time to. Actually, maybe I don't care. Well, maybe I do. Perhaps I'm not sure.
Anyway, so I took a moment and brushed my teeth, put on a bit of makeup. There. I'm still in pancake clothes but I'm at least a little less than shitty. I guess if I change clothes I could be a little less than crappy and if I put clothes on that actually are attractive I might pass for ok. The days of cute, hot or decent are over but at least my boys look good.
The sad thing is that is my new standard for myself. When I said those words to myself (in my head and not out loud - I do have a little sanity left), I was struck by how little regard I have for myself these days. It's not that I don't care about myself or how I appear to the world, it's that I seriously don't have time to. Actually, maybe I don't care. Well, maybe I do. Perhaps I'm not sure.
Anyway, so I took a moment and brushed my teeth, put on a bit of makeup. There. I'm still in pancake clothes but I'm at least a little less than shitty. I guess if I change clothes I could be a little less than crappy and if I put clothes on that actually are attractive I might pass for ok. The days of cute, hot or decent are over but at least my boys look good.
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