Hello God? It's me, Mary Anne...

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

I am almost hesitant to write this month because spirituality is such a personal thing and I generally only share my beliefs with others who I deeply trust and are open minded, but I promised to be raw and authentic so here goes...

What if I told you I talked to God? You'd probably be like- So what? Lots of people talk God, it's called "prayer," duh. Okay, so what if I said I not only talk to God, but God talks back? Then you would probably start taking measurements for my straight jacket and make a reservation for a stay at the local looney bin, but it's true. I have conversations with God, (or the "Great Inspirerer" as I prefer to address It...) and I will get to that in a minute, but first it may be helpful to know how I got to this point.

I grew up in an extremely conservative and religious part of Ohio. Almost all of my friends went to church and about 95% of them were Catholic. I, personally, was raised Methodist and did the whole sunday school and confirmation song and dance, but even at a tender young age I always questioned what I was told ( and for those who know me well this should come as no big surprise). As a result, this often got me into a lot of trouble.

I remember a specific example early on of a time when I made my confirmation teacher angry (or maybe just frustrated, I am not sure you could truly make Leah mad...) because I couldn't understand why the only way you could know God was "through Jesus". It didn't make any sense, especially considering we had just covered the Trinity a week before. Weren't they the same guy?! (Try successfully explaining THAT to a ten year old.) I just couldn't wrap my mind around this idea of God being inaccessible without a mediator, so I chose, rather reluctantly I might add because it went against what  I was being taught at the time, to ignore these lessons and believe what felt right to me. And so began my journey of taking the "spiritual road less traveled." A journey that, at times, has been very tumultuous but in the end deeply satisfying.

As I said, I grew up in a conservative town so for me- a person with an extremely liberal belief system, I stuck out like a sore thumb. High school was rough and if I wasn't told I was going to hell at least a couple of times a school week, then it hadn't been a very good week. Not that I ever intentionally antagonized my conservative peers, no sir, not me (mischievous grin).

Then, when I was about seventeen, I went through a typical teenage crisis of faith and gave God a big "Fuck you!" I denied spirituality of any sort for a couple of years, but always felt something was missing and in college started looking for something that really fit me. I went through an interesting (and sometimes rather entertaining) foray through the "isms"... Atheism, Agnosticism, Deism, Buddhism, Paganism, etc., and some of these things came close but never really "clicked".

Finally, about two years ago I read several books that completely changed my entire outlook on religion. The first book, Writing Down Your Soul- by Janet Conner, I came across by accident. I had picked it up because it was a book on journaling, something I am very passionate about. (Rather than spend a lot of money on a shrink I write obsessively instead, it's a hell of a lot cheaper.) I didn't realize it was also a spiritual book until I was a couple chapters in and at that point I almost considered putting it down. However, it wasn't a- "I'm going to cram my beliefs down your throat" sort of book so I continued to read it. It nearly blew my mind when I finally realized where Conner was going with it- she was suggesting that you could write to God and God would actually respond right there on the page! Here was proof that someone, a seemingly sane person, was having a authentic, personal conversation with the Source without needing an interpreter. (Sorry Jesus, while I have an immense amount of respect for you- no one likes a middle man.) Naturally I was skeptical at first and when I tried it out for myself it felt weird and unnatural because I just couldn't let go of preconceived ideas about how you should talk to the Almighty. So I gave up thinking it was stupid and sort of crazy. God, however, can be persistent.

Enter book two into my life- Conversations With God- by Neale Donald Walsch (this is actually a multi-book series) where yet again my beliefs about God were turned upside down. Here is another person
doing essentially the exact same thing that Conner proposed in her book (though I am pretty sure Conversations With God was published first) and with AMAZING results. In a nutshell, the conversation Walsch has with God in these books is absolutely breath-taking and well worth the time it takes to read all of them.

So feeling slightly less crazy, after all now there were at least two other people in the world doing it, I again attempted my own conversation, this time with much better results. Today, not only do I have heartfelt chats with God on almost a daily basis, but I would also go so far as to say we have become *GASP* friends!

You don't have to believe me, you can even call me crazy if you want, that's okay. What I do know is that some of the poetry and insights that come out of my pen during these conversations does NOT come from anywhere inside me (for one thing I am not that eloquent). I also know that these conversations have changed my life in that- I am no longer as fearful of making mistakes, or believing in the "wrong" religion, or even of death itself because the Deity I have come to know and love is never judgmental, is always supportive, and loves me unconditionally no matter how bad I screw up. In fact, I think it's high time you met my good friend the Great Inspirerer, so without further adieu here is a snippet from one of our conversations...

(This is an excerpt from a journal entry from a couple months ago during which I was having a particularly rough week. I chose this conversation to share with you because I think it is one of the most beautiful and comforting things anyone has ever said to me.)

October 22, 2012

(Me) I feel so weary and burdened.

Give it to me.

I feel so angry and frustrated I want to scream.

Give it to me. 

I feel guilty and sad because I feel like a complete and utter failure and weak and helpless.

Give it to me child.

Take it, I don't want it anymore.

I will take it Dearheart and know this... On the darkest of nights I am the beacon lighting your way. I am your shelter and your protection from the violent storm. I am the warmth and love that envelopes you and lets you know that it will be okay. I am your champion, I will fight for you, along side you, every step of the way. I am your steady dependable rock, your foundation that will never crack or crumble. I am fierce and brave and strength incarnate and more importantly, as I am all these things so too are YOU because we are One. Where you go, I shall follow and what I am, so too shall you be as we are not separate but part of the Whole. Find strength and comfort in that, Dearheart... Whenever you feel weak or scared or angry, call upon me, call upon my strength and courage and know that you too are strong and courageous.

I frequently look back on this entry when I am lonely or scared and every time I feel the warmth and love I did the first time I received this reassuring message.

So maybe in the end I haven't completely convinced you that having conversations with God isn't utterly insane,to be fair it took awhile to get used to the idea myself, but at this point I try not to worry too much about what everyone else thinks. After all the many long and sometimes painful years of searching, this beautiful relationship I have with my Creator makes me feel like I have finally come home.

And that's exactly where I want to be.

All You Need Is A Little TLC

The New Year approaches and my month of generosity is almost over. Hard to believe that two months of my transformational year are gone already.

In December, I have made mittens and I donated toys and clothes to a needy child at Christmas. I have welcomed friends and family into my home and have tried to be a good guest in return. I have tried to find little things to do to be generous towards my friends and family, such as scraping car windows without being asked or buying a friend a movie ticket because he always drives me places (he also happens to be one of the most generous people I know as well and I should take some pointers from him), but I realized a week or so ago that lately I hadn't been generous towards one very important person- myself. I needed to fix that asap.

If there is one thing I remember having drilled into my head during my undergrad program in social work (and let's be honest, that was three and a half years ago so I don't remember much...) it was- avoid burnout! Engage in lots of self care and put yourself first before anyone else. To someone whose entire profession revolves around giving to others this may seem counter-intuitive and somewhat selfish, or at least it did to me initially, until I got burnt out, and burnt out again, and again until I began to recognize the wisdom in taking care of numero uno and setting more appropriate boundaries. (What do you mean you are a social worker who doesn't work past four on Friday afternoons?!) I frequently remember a self care example I heard repeatedly from professors through college... Similar to the safety instructions they go over on airplanes about putting your oxygen mask on first before helping someone else in case of an emergency, you have to take care of yourself and keep yourself healthy in order to be able to function well enough to assist others. I had to realize that thinking of yourself first doesn't necessarily  make you selfish, it simply assures that your mind, body, and soul are rejuvenated so you can continue to be fully present in the lives of people you care about. I would like to note that "taking care of yourself" doesn't mean going out and denying or taking things away from others, it merely means acknowledging and honoring the fact that you too are worth a little TLC once and awhile. I would also like to note that burnout isn't exclusive to social workers, everyone from stay at home parents, to lawyers and doctors get occasionally burnt out from life's daily grind.

With everything that has happened the last few months, with moving, the holidays, and working two jobs, I was getting down to my last nerve. I was tired, cranky and frequently pessimistic. So what did I do? I took a vacation! (Well, technically I worked myself to death this month making sure I had made productivity and had everything done and turned in that I needed to BEFORE I went on vacation, but that's besides the point.) Between weekends, paid holidays and the days I actually took off I have had eleven glorious days of absolute freedom to do whatever the hell I've wanted to.

So in the interest of being generous towards myself this is what I have done, or plan to do (since vacation isn't technically over until after the new year) with my numerous days off...

• Had a snow day pajama party with my puppies and watched horrible romance movies I borrowed from the library. (Kate and Leopold was a little far fetched, not to mention Kate was kind of a bitch.  The Wedding Date was cute, but some of the acting was truly atrocious.)
• Visited family for several days in Northwest Ohio.
• Was actually able to read an entire book from start to finish in a reasonable amount of time instead of over the course of several months.
• Went and saw Les Miserables in theater on Christmas day. (It was AMAZING! If you haven't already seen it run, don't walk to your nearest cinema and see it NOW... Seriously, why are you still reading this? Stop wasting precious time and go order some tickets!)
• Have made/ am going to make lots of awesome food including grain/dairy/refined sugar free chocolate cranberry scones tomorrow for breakfast, which is exciting because I haven't had scones in probably eight months now. Cross your fingers they turn out well...
• Went to karaoke last night and listened to several dozen appalling renditions of 80's songs being sung by extremely inebriated people who had no business singing in public even without having consumed copious amounts of alochol. (Needless to say there was lots of incoherent screaming.) I also bore witness to an incredibly awkward version of "I Touch Myself" by a suspender-wearing, Steve Urkle type, that was reminiscent of the Keith- "Like a Virgin" audition for American Idol way back in it's first or second season. (For those who don't remember, have never seen it, or are masochists and want to relive the hilarity and pain all over again click here.)
• Spent time in the studio working on personal creative endeavors and Christmas presents for friends. (I made some really awesome gifts, but will have to post pictures later because I haven't given them to the lucky recipients yet...)
• Spent many hours writing and philosophizing in my journal.
• And to finish off my vacation I intend to go to several parties on New Year's Eve, stay out way too late, sleep until noon the next day and then have people over for a traditional lucky Irish New Year dinner of corned beef and cabbage- huzzah!

With all this free time I am trying really hard not to be critical of myself when I don't get everything finished in a day that I wanted to, or if I didn't really do anything that day period.This is vacation after all. Trouble is I need to remember to do that all the time- to be generous to myself everyday, and maybe then I won't feel like such a shrew by the time my next vacation rolls around.


Ok, now for the upcoming month... As I mentioned earlier- two months down, ten to go. In January my focus is going to be on spirituality, which I am really excited about and have some great ideas on how to expand my own spiritual practices/knowledge. I have some awesome books I want to read and talk about, as well as I am planning on attending services from several different world religions. (This may include attending a Scientology meeting just for shits and giggles, although I don't know if I will have the guts to go through with that one. We shall see.)

Stayed tuned, I will be continuing with new posts again here at the end of next week. Have a safe and happy New Year everyone!

My Grownup Christmas List

April 21, 1999

"There was another school shooting yesterday. They think at least 25 students/teachers were killed. I guess that the people who did it were the ones who were always getting picked on. So I guess they sort of...snapped."

This was written by my own childish twelve year old hand. In the spring of my sixth grade year tragedy struck our nation. Two students, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, carried weapons to school and opened fire on their classmates. This was the 1999 Columbine school shooting. An incident that seemed to be the catalyst for a pattern of similar events.

Fast forward to the spring of 2007 and now I am a college sophomore sitting in my dorm room watching the news, horrified that yet another shooter- Seung Hui Cho, rained bullets down upon a university lecture hall. This time it was at Texas A&M.

Both these incidents (and many others) happened half way across the country, yet to me, and I am sure many of my peers as well, it felt like it was happening right in our own backyard. Doors that had always been open were now locked twenty-four hours a day and emergency plans immediately put into place. Now schools didn't just practice fire and tornado drills, "lock downs" and disaster drills were now part of standard procedure. It begged the question, "If it could happen there, could it happen here?"

In the wake of yet another senseless act of violence- the murders at Sandy Hook Elementary on Friday, I can't help but feel the same feeling of unease. What if that happened at one of my schools? To my colleagues? To the children I work with? To me? What would I do in the same situation? What would anyone do? So many questions...

I would like to think that I would do whatever it took to protect innocent life, to protect the children. They have become such an important part of my life and I care very much about all of them, (even the ones that drive me crazy sometimes) that the mere idea of someone, anyone trying to hurt them infuriates me beyond all reason. I would like to think that if, God forbid, something ever did happen and someone broke into my room, at one of my schools, and tried to hurt a child in my care, that I would fight tooth and nail until my last dying breath to keep that child safe. The truth is, however, that I just don't know. I don't think anyone really knows how they would react in a situation until they are faced with it. I just pray that should that day ever come that I won't become paralyzed by fear and will be up to the task of protecting my wards.

What I do know is that many brave men and women have given the most generous gift anyone could give- their own lives, to save countless more, and yet there have still been too many deaths. At what point do we as a society say enough is enough? A lot of "solutions" have been tossed around in the last few days, everything from the need for tighter gun control to making mental health services more readily available and accessible in this county, and I believe these things should be discussed, need to be discussed, but they are, unfortunately, just a small part of a bigger problem.

Whether we would like to admit it or not we are still a primitive society. Sure, we've had a huge technological explosion in the last hundred years and we have made tremendous strides in various intellectual arenas, but despite all of that we remain unenlightened when it comes to the care and treatment of our fellow man. There are still people in this world living in squalor, there are still people without access to food and clean water, there are still people without access to reliable medical care, there are still people living in the streets without a roof over their head at night. How can we call ourselves advanced when we can't even be bothered to take care of all of Earth's inhabitants?

It's easy to demonize the shooters, and I am not condoning their actions, but nine times out of ten these people commit horrendous acts due to a combination of mental illness and because they feel that they themselves have somehow been victimized. When we stop marginalizing and separating ourselves from others and recognize WE ARE ALL ONE PEOPLE, when we start treating every person with the dignity they deserve, when everyone can be assured that their basic human needs will be met, maybe then people will no longer feel a need to commit such incomprehensible acts of violence.

Sadly, though, I fear this will not happen during my lifetime, and even if it did it would still be too little too late for the beautiful children at Sandy Hook And the many other souls lost over the years to senseless shootings.

Christmas is less that a week away, and while I am too old to still believe in Santa Claus, I do have one wish, a Grown-up Christmas List-

To all the parents who lost precious children in Friday's unthinkable attack, and to all the families missing loved ones this holiday season, I pray you find some solace, whatever your beliefs may be, in the thought that while they are no longer with you they are safe wherever they are and can never be hurt again. May they rest in peace and let us never forget them.

"Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."

-Anon

The Gift of Giving

While discussing this month's theme of generosity to a friend of mine earlier this week she made the comment of "Not everyone can afford to be generous." This really got me thinking... During this time of year, with the holidays right around the corner, you are constantly being bombarded with opportunities to give. From being asked to make contributions to the food bank in the checkout line at Kroger, to a plethora of Christmas toy drives, to all the people who stand outside stores ringing their bells in the freezing cold for change, you can't throw a rock in December without hitting someone collecting donations for charity. For me, with generosity being a focus this month, this is a very good thing as it makes accomplishing my goal that much easier. However, all these things do place a lot of emphasis on monetary generosity, which brings me back to the previous comment of "Not everyone can afford to be generous."

On the surface I agree with this statement. Some people, such as many of the families I work with, are in enough trouble of their own that they truly don't have anything left over at the end of the month to give to someone else. I think the number of people this is true for is actually a lot lower than most people think, however, and the majority of households can at least afford to contribute a dollar or two. At that point it becomes more a question of "Do I want to give?" rather than "Do I have the means to give?" That being said, I believed there had to be more to being generous than just giving people money, so I did what all good twenty somethings my age do when they have a deeply philosophical question- I Googled it.

Here is what Google and Webster's Online Dictionary had to say...

Generosity- the quality of being kind and generous.

...Yeah... That was helpful (note the sarcasm). So I then decided to look up the root word- generous to see what it had to say and I got a lot better results...

Generous- 1) Showing a readiness to give more of something, as in money or time, than is strictly necessary or expected. 2) Showing kindness towards others.

Thanks Google, once again you managed to come through for me in my hour of spiritual need! Seriously though, I really like this definition because it makes being generous accessible to everyone. By this definition anyone who is willing (showing a readiness) to give something (doesn't have to be money) more than what is expected is showing generosity.

Simply put, I am being generous when I give a kid extra time during a session to finish coloring a picture or to play a game. I am being generous when I take the time to lend an ear to a friend in need even if I may not have a lot of time at that moment. I am being generous when I volunteer my time at various charity events, and I am REALLY being generous when I let more than one person merge in front of me on the highway during rush hour. (Believe me, in Columbus that's a Christmas miracle. Trying to safely navigate your way around this city is like attending an asshole convention where every douche bag known to man converges on your location to try and piss in your Cheerios. They will find you and they will seriously fuck your shit up.) You don't have to be loaded like Bill Gates and donate millions of dollars to charity each year (though that is awesome and good for him). It's the simple gestures that sometimes mean as much or more than giving gobs of money. By this definition, we have no real reason not to be generous because something as ridiculously simple as being kind to someone is showing generosity, and in an ideal world everyone should be kind to everyone.

So here is my challenge- Go forth into the world my friends and be generous towards others. Not just for today and not just for this holiday season, but everyday, for the need is so great and everybody, every single person, has something they can share of themselves. I am convinced that if everyone did this all the time the world would be a much nicer place to live.

As for me? I am going to start by making myself a nice mug of eggnog, throw on some episodes of "Hot in Cleveland" (hey, gotta be generous towards ourselves too) and start making some more mittens. They may not be as beautiful as store bought or cost a lot of money, but one of my gifts is creating and I like to share that gift with others. As I think about all the little hands my mittens will keep warm this winter, I like to think there is one thing that makes them stand out from anything you could ever buy from a store-
 
They were made with love :)

It's a mitten orgy!

Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones

"I don't believe the things my dad says about you."

(Uh oh.) "Well that's good. What did he say about me? Wait... do I want to know?"

"Probably not." (Pause) "Let's just say he doesn't think you know what you are doing and you aren't helping me at all." (Another pause) "I think you are helping me though."

"Hmmm. Well, everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Sometimes people say things when they are upset that they don't necessarily mean later on."

This was a conversation I had with one of the kids I work with a week or so ago. Last year at this time I would have been livid over this comment. In fact, about two years ago almost the exact same situation did happen and I was FURIOUS. Another kid had shared with me during a session that his father (why is it always the fathers?) had said I was "too stupid to fix him" (meaning the kid). I already had a pretty negative relationship with this father so the defamation of character really sent me over the edge. So much so that I wrote this father a particularly nasty letter in my journal that night.

(WARNING: When I get righteously angry it's not often a pretty sight. This entry is rated PG-13 for explicit language and spiteful content...)

February 22, 2011

Dear Sir-

It is my understanding that you think I am "too stupid" to "fix" your child, well I am here to tell you that if you weren't such a piss poor excuse for a human being, let alone a father, your kid wouldn't need "fixed" in the first place. You may not think much of my degree or occupation, but that's perfectly alright as my esteem for low-life's such as yourself is non-existent. Maybe if you stop beating your wife and emotionally abusing your eight year old son I could find some empathy for you, but alas, I find that highly unlikely. 

I also find it highly unlikely that you will understand the majority of this letter because, while you try to pass yourself off as educated, you are nothing but a smarmy asshole who uses too much hair gel and is probably lucky to have a high school diploma. And while I know many people who have lower educations and are perfectly amicable you seem to believe that you are some God's gift to the world which makes you not only conceited, but a twat to think your presence makes this world a better place. While I may be "stupid" at least I can find enjoyment and validation in positive ways rather than terrorizing and threatening small children to make myself feel good. That just makes you a cocksucker and I hope someone comes along and dick slaps you in the face so you know what it feels like.

Sincerely-

Your friendly neighborhood social worker.

When I go back and re-read this entry I alternate between laughing hysterically (because it truly is funny) and being ashamed that I could be so hateful even if this man was a cretin. Then I remember that, like the father earlier this week who said "I didn't know what I was doing," being angry can make you do and say some crazy shit.

It is for this reason that I was pleasantly surprised that I WASN'T angry about this person's recent comments. In fact, I found myself later feeling grateful. Why the hell would I be grateful for someone calling me incompetent you might ask? Well, because it gave me the opportunity to see how much I've grown. Almost the exact same remark from a couple of years ago ago made me spew venom and hate all over the page, whereas this week I said "that's nice" and let it go. I am grateful because it was a lesson in self-confidence. I knew I was doing everything and more to help this family and that was good enough for me. If they don't think I am doing my job then they can fire me- no big deal. (I would like to point out that they haven't done so yet so I must being doing something right.)

As much as I complain about how much I hate my social work job, and whoa-buddy can it crazy stressful and intense sometimes, I have come to realize, that while it's not something I want to do too much longer, it has definitely changed and challenged me a lot as a person.

When I first started working this job straight out of undergrad I was fresh-faced and optimistic that I was going to "change the world one client at a time!" Oh how sweet and naive I was. It's almost comical now. I wouldn't go so far as to say I am a jaded, crusty old social worker (for one I am not that old), but I am a lot more cynical than I used to be. Some may see this as a bad thing, and too much cynicism can be, but it has also made me a lot less gullible and a lot more street savvy. It has helped me develop a "tougher skin." It is much easier to take criticism than it used to be and I am a lot better at letting things roll off my shoulders than I was.

I think that confidence alone has been monumental. I have definitely had moments throughout the last three years as a counselor where I have thought- "Shit, if I can get through that I can get through anything!" From a kid projectile vomiting all over the shelter house in the park (yeah, that was fun), to impromptu couple's counseling to save a marriage when I simply thought I was picking a kid up to go to McDonald's, this job has really pushed me to be a better counselor, and ultimately a better person. Despite the daily stress and frustration, this has been the greatest gift I could have received.

With this month being over I am realizing that being consciously grateful everyday is a lot tougher than I thought it was going to be. However, even if this new perspective towards my job is the only thing I gain from undertaking the virtue of gratitude for this month (and it isn't), I would still consider it a win. Being able to say "I am grateful a parent thinks I am an idiot" is definitely not something I ever thought I would hear myself say.

Don't get me wrong, I am not saying I don't secretly think those dads are twat-waffles, but at least I am not going to rage about it in my journal. That my friends- is progress :)


Switching gears, tomorrow is the first day of a new month, which means I am going to have a new focus. December is actually the only month out of the year that I am going to have two virtues- generosity and hospitality. My big projects this month are making mittens and hats to donate to a homeless shelter and adopting a family for Christmas. Every year one of the elementary schools I work for creates a list of students from low income families who cannot afford to have a traditional holiday. The staff then take these names and buy clothes and toys for the children to open on Christmas day. This is such a big deal for the kids because often this is the only time in the year they get any new clothes or a new toy. With that said, if anyone reading this is interested in contributing to either project please contact me via Facebook or at curioushawkstudio@gmail.com. Any contribution would be extremely appreciated not only by myself, but by all the families in need who will receive help this holiday season!

Home Is Where The Heart Is...

They say- "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Or at least that's what Kelly Clarkson would lead you to believe. If this is true then considering the simple fact that I am not already six feet under, I must have the strength of legions, it has been that sort of week.

I took possession of my apartment and started moving in last Friday. By midnight on Saturday my whole life had been packed into cars and shipped off to my new home, sweet home. While walking out the door of my old house for the last time I couldn't help but gaze around at all the things missing, things that had made it feel comforting and inviting over the last two and a half years. It was a bittersweet moment. I silently cried a few tears at the thought of never again making another meal in my snug little corner kitchen, or coming home in the summer to sunlight streaming through the living room windows and illuminating the cricket green walls that always seemed so cheerful. I was deeply saddened by the thought of never making another painting in my bright yellow studio upstairs and in thinking all this I almost lost my courage right then and there. The little gremlins of doubt saw their golden opportunity and took up residence in my brain...

What if I can't do this?

What if I can't handle being alone?

What if I am not strong enough to tackle life by myself?

It's really hard not to feel down when you are physically and emotionally exhausted and have crap like that running through your head. Somehow I managed to pick myself up, cross that threshold one last time and set off for my new home.

Home. What an interesting word. It can have so many different meanings and no one person probably looks at it exactly the same way. When I was in high school and found out we were going to have to move out of the house I had grown up in I was utterly devastated.

"It won't be the same! It won't feel like home!" I remember saying to my mom.

Her response, (and I will never forget it) was- "Mary Anne, four walls and a roof do not make a building a home. It's the people inside that really matter. Family is what makes a house a home."

She was right of course (mom's usually are). It doesn't really matter what you call the place where you lay down your head at night, home is a place in your heart where your loved ones dwell and no one can ever take that away from you. While I am sad to leave the comfort and protection of my old house, my apartment is already becoming a cozy little haven where in just one short week friends and family have continually frequented my door. It may not be big or fancy with a lot of shiny updates, but that doesn't really matter because it's the people you find there, the friends who come and go, the laughter and love that can be found inside- that's what really counts. My apartment has already been blessed in that regard and for that I am so thankful.

I know the path I have chosen for myself will not be easy. Life has its ups and downs and I am not so delusional as to think that there aren't going to be any challenges. (Like spilling water all over your laptop and completely frying it as a result...yeah THAT was fun.) But it's those soul trying moments that really do make you stronger, and deep down in my heart I know that I too can be fearless with the support of friends and family in my new home as my foundation when I am feeling weak.

This week has been tough, really tough. Saying goodbye and experiencing change is never easy, but my supervisor shared a quote with me the other day that I really think sums things up pretty nicely...

When life knocks you down...calmly get back up, smile, and very politely say- "You hit like a bitch." 


*There will be a video walk through of my apartment added as soon as I can get my technology to cooperate... it's not looking very good for any time soon though : /  Be sure to check back for that after Thanksgiving when my tech savvy brother will hopefully help me get it working!

Update: My awesome brother helped me get the video going... thanks David!

The Scarlet "D"

"In all her intercourse with society, however, there was nothing that made her feel as if she belonged to it. Every gesture, every word, and even the silence of those with whom she came in contact, implied, and often expressed, that she was banished, and as much alone as if she had inhabited another sphere, or communicated with the common nature by other organs than the rest of human kind."

-The Scarlet Letter

When I was a Junior in high school we had to read Nathaniel Hawthorne's classic- The Scarlet Letter, for AP English class. I don't remember much about it except that I hated it with a passion. It was a tedious, painful reading experience and the only book to date that I have had to buy a Spark-notes guide just so I could muddle my way through it. However, the one detail that has stuck with me after all these years is the fact that the main character, Hester Prynne, had to wear the scarlet "A" to mark her as an adulterer, to make her stand out so people could essentially avoid her at all costs (snooty Puritans). While I am not, nor have I ever been an adulterer, I can relate to poor Hester and the alienation she felt. However, unlike like Hester's "A", my scarlet letter would have to be a "D" for "divorcee." 

I knew ahead of time that ending my marriage would change the relationships I had with mutual friends and family, but I had no idea people would flip on me the way some of them have. People who I have considered friends and have spent a lot of time with over the past few years have suddenly dropped off the map and I haven't heard from them in months. Worse still, are the people I have seen in person since announcing my divorce who proceeded to treat me like a pariah. One person even went so far as to leave the room whenever I entered to avoid having to talk to or even be in the same vicinity as me.

That hurt. A LOT. I was pretty depressed and extremely angry about it for awhile, but in time and after a couple of really pissed off journal entries I came to the following conclusions...

Cliched as it might sound, people really do come in and out of our lives all the time. Some stick around longer than others, but every single person is a teacher with something important to contribute to our journey. As much as I wish I did, I have no control over the way other people treat me, only how I respond to their words and actions however hateful they may be sometimes. So here is my response...

To all of you who will probably no longer associate with me (and you know who you are), I just want you to know- that I understand. It's hard being put in the middle and made to feel like you have to choose. My husband and I have tried really hard to avoid making people pick sides, but ultimately it just happens. No matter what you may think of me or the choices I have made, in my heart I will always remember you as my friends and I will cherish all the wonderful memories we have made over the years. I wish you lots of love and happiness in your lives and I am extremely thankful for the time we did share together. Thank you for having been a part of my life and may God bless you all.

With that being said (and now that the tears are falling freely on my laptop), it's time to let it go and move on.

As baffling as it has been to watch people turn away from me, the complete opposite end of the spectrum has also been equally as amazing. Some of my friends, many of whom I haven't spent a lot of time with over the years, have not only welcomed me back with open arms but have quite literally become my knights in shining armor come to save the day. Considering this month's theme is gratitude I feel it's only appropriate to let these people know how much I love and appreciate them.

In the days after I told my husband I wanted to leave I started scraping together, the best that I could, a support system to lean on as I was nothing short of a hot mess. What I have found since is a family. From college friends, to coworkers, to members of the Grove, I have been showered with love and offers of support, places to crash and used furniture. I have had weekly, if not daily check-ins just to say "hi" and see how I am doing. I am getting phone calls and business cards for health insurance and legal aid because "so and so" knew a guy and had them call me. Rarely do more than a few days go by that I am not invited to do something just to get me out of the house, and I know when I move in a couple of days friends and family will descend in droves upon my home to help me start a new life in my own place. In just a few short months I have already begun making new friends who have embraced me as one of their own and my circle continues to expand. Now when people ask me how I am doing I can honestly say (to quote the Fab Four) "I get by with a little help from my friends."

It makes me wonder if The Scarlet Letter would have ended differently if Hester had had one good friend to turn to in her struggles. Sure, the hurtful people would have still been there, would always be there, but I believe you can endure anything with a good friend by your side. I still have my moments and situations when I get down on myself and feel like that big "D" is emblazoned across my chest, but when I am with my friends I am not a "divorcee" anymore, just me- Mary Anne, and that is one of the most freeing feelings in the world. Thank you guys, (and again you know who you are!) I love you more than you will ever know.

Special thanks to Jordan, John, Maggie, Steph and Amber who were there with me at ground zero and have been there every step of the way since. You guys rock!