My Mind’s Highway and How I Travel

I prefer anger over grief. Anger gives me the illusion of control. “I am mad and let me tell you why!”

I have been known to hang on to grudges like tiny little birds. I keep them safely tucked away in their cages preventing the process of acceptance from occurring and letting go of what hurt me.

I am a great scorekeeper. I know who did what to me along with the date and location of injury. If I am angry, you earned it. These grudges were a direct result of me being in control rather than being taken advantage of. It is my god-given right to hold on and be mad. (Unfortunately, I am not referring to a time long, long ago…I am still evolving).

Anger is much easier to feel than grief.

Grief creeps up and tackles me out of nowhere. Grief does not have to give reasons for its presence, it just shows up and takes control over me. Grief is all consuming and irrational and messy.

Try catching a glimpse of yourself after an ugly cry. It’s not my best look.

Grief comes in many forms of feelings…sadness, anger, fear, and even shock. Grief is also not limited to death. Loss produces grief. The loss of someone. The loss of a way of life. The loss of something important to us whether anyone else can understand or not.

So why does it matter which we are experiencing? Grief or Anger? It matters because unless we are honest with ourselves and acknowledge our true emotions it is more difficult to find peace and healing. To go a step further, if we cannot find peace and healing then we will continue to compound each injury and amount of pain until we are ready to unload or implode. Neither of which are great options.

Our thoughts, much like our feelings, run through our minds like a highway. One thought followed by the next with no filter of facts. That is our job. Thoughts do not equal truths. We are responsible for examining our thoughts by holding them up to the light of reality to avoid the hamster wheel of spiraling into the abyss of overthinking and drowning in emotions.

This is NOT to say we are not entitled to our individual thoughts and feelings about everything, however do we really want to walk around with just our perspective? Our way of thinking about a situation is the only way? (Not that it wouldn’t be nice for a while, but how boring for any real length of time).

Acceptance does not require us to like whatever it is. We can be sad or mad or afraid or annoyed AND still accept life on life’s terms. When we can find a place of acceptance, we are better able to trust our thoughts and feelings. It is easier to find the light of reality and hold up whatever comes through our mind’s highway. The best part is finding peace and healing becomes actual options rather than far off lands of enlightenment we believe to be unachievable.

So how do you accept life on life’s terms? Do I have to just lay down and let life happen to me?

Absolutely not!

You can, however, change the things you can and let go of those you cannot. That is accepting life on life’s terms.

If something is bothering you, find a place to take action to change it. I may not have control over the United States Supreme Court and the decisions they make about what I can and cannot do with my body (which I feel anger, sadness, and fear about). I do have control over my response and reactions to their decisions. I have the power and ability to advocate for change and protest what I disagree with. I can educate my daughters on the importance of voting and being an active member in society.

On a smaller scale, I get pissed when people I trust disappoint me. I get angry (and sad) and I do not have control over how other people treat me. I do have control over who I let in my life and who I spend time with. I can find acceptance and even peace with people who have hurt me and grieve that loss as I heal.

When you are feeling overwhelmed and unsure of your emotions and maybe even distrustful of your thoughts, stop and take a moment to examine your mind’s highway. Be honest with yourself.

I would much rather be angry with someone who hurt me and call my girlfriends and tell them all about why I am mad and how I plan to harbor this resentment from now until the end of time. Though, if I am honest about what I am feeling I can acknowledge I grieve what I thought was friendship and the person I trusted. I accept that their behavior, not their words show me who they are, and I have choices on who I let in my life. That is life on life’s terms and that is the path to peace for me. I chose to travel that way.

Choosing It or Changing It

Last week I was in session with a client, when I got my mind blown. The client said to me “if you are not changing it, you are choosing it.” (WOW!) That caused me to pause. The client even checked to see if I was still on the line because it was a phone session. Good thing, too because I was left with my mouth wide open while I processed this simple statement.

If you are not changing it, you are choosing it.

That prompted me to evaluate all the things.

So what in my life am I passively choosing by refusing to change?

I first eliminated the occurrences in my life I have no control over (i.e. the guy driving like an asshole in front of me, the US Supreme Court, my daughters’ mouths, etc).

Once those were pushed to the side I began to really assess what I was choosing. This led me to my laundry list of (actual laundry included) of complaints

I’m tired ALL the time.

I am overwhelmed with ALL the things.

I don’t have time to do ALL the things.

I hate ALL the laundry.

You get the idea.

Then my oppositional tendencies kicked in…how am I choosing to be tired all the time? I want rest, but I don’t have enough time to rest because I am overwhelmed with all the things I have to do and laundry continues to pile up! Could I have meditated and not binged watched the rest of Cheer last night and gone to sleep at a decent hour – sure but what is ONE night gonna do?

It’s the ONE nights that really get me! Because one night of Netflix drama leads me to one bowl of ice cream, that leads me to racing thoughts preventing me from sleep, that leads me to hitting snooze one-too-many-times, that leads me to being late for work that leads me to being behind and overwhelmed all day, that leads me right back to another bowl of ice cream in my bed watching Vampire Diaries reruns thinking about all the things I didn’t get done that day and then back to…(I’m sure you can guess from here).

One night. One choice. One change. It DOES matter.

Let’s take that same day full overwhelm, cheer-filled dreams and ice cream after oversleeping…what if I came home and exercised instead? Or journaled about my frustrating day? Or meditated to let go of my overwhelm? Not all of these, just ONE. Then tomorrow maybe I add going to bed earlier without the TV on or maybe I simply repeat the choice from the previous day.

That is choosing change.

That is doing something different instead of the same thing expecting a different result (you know, the definition of insanity?!)

Recently, I’ve been crawling out of a rough patch, of my own creation. I did not jump down in the dark abyss of self-loathing and despair, I slid down one small choice at a time. Each choice coated in the lie of “it’s just ONE day/time/bowl/glass”. The “ones” became comfortable and I soaked in the darkness while I convinced myself this is where I deserved to be. I pushed away those closest to me. I closed myself off and used “I’m fine & you?” as a defense from any attempt of concern. It is really difficult to look at yourself in the dark, so I did not. I kept quiet and stayed comfortable there.

 The outside world of consequences wouldn’t let me stay in the dark. The effects of my behavior started slowly and softly tapping me on the shoulder. This turned into shaking my shoulders with the force of two hands and eventually holding a mirror in front of me, forcing me to look at myself and the comfort zone I created. I wasn’t proud of what I saw in my reflection. I wasn’t really comfortable. I was hiding. However, when I looked up from my deep, dark abyss I couldn’t see a way out. I was so far down. I’m not freaking Wonder Woman and I can’t lasso my way out of here.

I was tired.

I was overwhelmed.

And I still had a lot of freaking laundry. But I wasn’t alone. I had only chosen to be for awhile.

I made a choice. I talked to my husband, who still loved and accepted me. Then, I talked to my friend. Then another friend. I didn’t make a big, blanket announcement that I was struggling, I was honest with the people I love and trusted. The same people I had pushed away with the lie of “I’m fine”. They still loved and accepted me.

With each person in my circle I reached out to, I began my climb out. I’m still building the ladder and figuring out what choice comes next, but I am uncomfortable, so I know I am still climbing in the right direction. Comfort is no place for me to take up permanent residence.

Climbing out is much more difficult than the slide in, but it is still ONE call/text/honest conversation at a time. I began to clean up my mess with one healthy choice after another. There isn’t enough super power in the world for me perform a complete overhaul, but I can make a MASSIVE change with one choice at a time.

This was not my first visit to the deep, dark abyss. It’s super easy to get there, so I’ve made the trip before and more than likely will do it again. However, I do not have to stay as long because with each trip down I learn something about myself that helps me make that first choice to find my way out the next time.

My choices and my darkness may sound and look different from yours, but our answer is the same – One at a time.

Practice Imperfectly

Well hello there! Are you present in the moment with me? Did you practice mindfulness this week? There is a mindfulness saying that some “older” and wiser ladies told me a long time ago. It goes something like this, “if you have one foot in yesterday and one foot in tomorrow you will crap all over today.” I think they may have used a different term, but you get the idea. It’s true! Staying present in the moment allows you to enjoy what is right in front of you. Mindfulness doesn’t allow for worrying about tomorrow. If we could all take a little advice from Elsa, and let it go, the past will stay where it belongs too. However, mindfulness is a practice. It takes 21 days to form a habit so keep going! These weekly convos with you helps me to practice what I preach and keeps me focused on where my energy needs to be-right here in this moment. So, thank you for the opportunity! We are in this together!

Let’s review our dear friend, Ruby and her shenanigans this week. Have you ever felt the spotlight before? Knowing everyone is watching to see if you can pull something off. Whether it is being the textbook parenting expert or epidemy of class at a work dinner, you feel the heat of the watchful eyes and the weight of others’ expectations. Your desire to hear the cheer of the crowd when you knock it out of the park pushes you forward as fear of the collective sigh of disappointment motivates your effort.

Miranda’s birthday may have looked like a shit-show, but she did what was asked of her. She gave up the applesauce, she may have launched it like a hand grenade, but she gave it up nonetheless. And she is two years old with a new baby brother who is stealing her mother away. What do you want from the poor girl? Ruby had a Rockstar reaction – cake anyone? Basically, the show must go on, shit, cake and all.

This week keep practicing mindfulness. Was it journaling, sitting on the porch or just breathing alone in the elevator that reminded you to stay present?

For me, it’s journaling. I harness my inner Elsa and literally let it all go on the page. But, it’s not something I do every single day. My mindfulness practice has become flexible, which is a new concept for me. I hold myself to doing something every day to stay in the moment. Some days it’s journaling. Some days it’s running with my dog. And somedays it’s taking 35 seconds in the car before I go into work to remind myself I need a paycheck and I am a productive member of society (basically I tell myself whatever is necessary to get out of the car). However, I DO something daily. I practice. It’s not helpful or mindful for me to be rigid about this process. I just need to do it and accept my imperfect mindfulness practice. It’s so freeing!

So keep practicing this week, my friends! Send me a comment and let me know what works for you and what doesn’t. I am always looking for new ideas and it’s helpful to know I’m not alone in this practice journey. I would love to hear from you! And if you can’t think of anything else to practice staying present, have some cake. That will make you enjoy the moment! Have a great week!

Ruby -vs- Elsa

Photo Credit Photography by Angela Gross

“I need some wipes over here, please!” I yell from the couch covered in explosive diarrhea. “I’m on the ladder hanging the banner.” Corey yells from stairs. “Where is Miranda?” I ask. “I thought she was with you?” He replies. I want to scream, but my newborn-poop-covered-angel has fallen asleep in a milk drunk stupor, so to avoid the cardinal sin of waking a sleeping baby, I slide off the couch and stretch as far as I can to get the wipes that lay just out of reach for me in a pile of toys on the floor. My middle finger, ironically enough, touches the wipes just as I hear a bang from Corey’s direction followed by a screech from the birthday girl. Before I can react, James’ eyes pop open and I watch him realize he is covered in crap as his sweet smile forms into a fully flipped lip with baby tears falling down his face. With two babies under two, Corey and I have developed a man-to-man defensive strategy. It’s more of a survival method because we haven’t scored yet. Epic failure is a daily occurrence. This morning we are simply trying to prepare for Miranda’s 2nd birthday party, while juggling the needs of a newborn. “I didn’t see her behind me climbing on the ladder. She’s like a tiny ninja.” Corey defends himself. Miranda sniffles the snot right out of her nose onto Corey’s Frozen-themed shirt that I ordered for the party. Miranda lifts her sweet head up to reveal a bloody lip with tear-soaked face. “Oh no, sweet girl!” But I can’t get to her because I am currently covered in James’ poop. And so it goes. Fast forward two hours with a house full of people. Children everywhere. Miranda in her Elsa dress casting icy spells on everyone she greets. James in his Sven onesie and antler headband asleep in whoever’s arms will hold him. Me in my Anna shirt and braided pigtails sweat pooling in all the wrong places. And Corey with his bloodstained Kristof shirt which makes him look like he had just buried a body. It is party time! My mother surveys the food laid out in the kitchen, “well, this is fun. Ruby, where’s the wine?” “It’s a two-year-old’s birthday, Mom, there is no wine.” Kate comes up behind me and pulls my braids, “Ain’t we cute! What are you supposed to be?” I turn and squeeze her. “Hey! How are you? I’ve misses you so much! And are you serious? I’m Anna.” Kate looks dumbfounded. “Anna. Elsa’s sister from Frozen.” I prompt. “I have no idea what is happening here. When I walk in the doorAndi is yelling at me to let something go, I’m not sure what. Your baby has antlers. Corey looks like he just left fight club and you are some kind of Swedish school girl? I’m so confused.” “It’s Frozen, Kate.” “What is? Margaritas?” “Don’t mention margaritas to me!” Claire warns as she waddles up six months pregnant. I hug Claire and place my hand on her bulging belly. “Beware Ruby. The belly has been off limits as of this week.” Claire’s husband, Marcus cautions from behind Claire. I slowly remove my hand and brace for her wrath. “You would do well to keep it moving, mister. I’m barely tolerating you at this point.” Claire spits out in Marcus’ direction. “Yes, Ma’am. Is Corey out back, Ruby? I think I’ll hide out there.” Marcus is threading on thin ice and retreats out the back door. “I can’t stand him.” Claire lets out a sigh of frustration. “I’m swollen, starving and can barely move around at this point and three months to go! I’m going to sit down. When are we doing cake?” I’m a little frightened of her at this point. Claire has always been the one not to mess with in our group, even intimidating many men who mistakenly got in her path. “We will do presents in a few minutes then cake. You want anything right now, Claire?” “Do you have pickles and applesauce? I can’t get away from that combo. And a bag of chips would be great.” Claire begins to waddle into the living room. “Sure thing, sweetie.” I yell behind her. “She is miserable. Just miserable. She makes it terrifying to even entertain the thought of being pregnant.” Kate shakes her head whispering as she watches Claire leave the room. “But you forget this part, Kate.” Annalise has arrived with her matching-outfit family of three. I try to hide my involuntary eye-roll and give Annalise’s one-year-old son, Hayden a hug before leaning over to Annalise also. “It’s been too long for us all to be together.” I keep making Claire’s plate to take to her in the living room. “Come on, I got to get this to Claire before she loses it.” The three of wade through the crowd into the living room to find Claire perched up on the couch with Miranda sitting with her. Claire appears happy chatting with my birthday girl and I smile as I approach with her snacks. Miranda is smiling and telling Claire all about Frozen when I hand Claire the plate of pickles with one of Miranda’s applesauce and a bag of BBQ chips. Miranda watches me hand her the plate and looks at me with betrayal in her eyes. “No Mommy!” she yells at me. “Andi, what’s the problem?” Claire asks and I realize Miranda is pissed I gave Claire HER applesauce. “Now Andi, we are going to share our applesauce with Claire. Her baby in her belly wants some too.” I offer in my best negotiator voice. “No Mommy! It’s mine!” Miranda snatches the applesauce with attention being drawn at this point. Since the arrival of her baby brother, Miranda has struggled with adjusting to sharing everything, especially me. James can’t eat her food yet, so she has been holding on to that as “hers”. And now Claire has infiltrated her territory and with another baby nonetheless. It’s been a long day and Miranda was at her breaking point. Apparently so is Claire. “Andi, that’s enough! Give that back to Claire right now!” I announce in full mom-voice. Then with full defiant toddler voice Miranda replies, “No! It’s mine!” Now the entire party is watching this interaction, and if anyone is keeping score it’s Elsa-1, Anna-0. I need to make a statement and flex my mom muscle. My mother is shaking her head full of judgement. Claire looks like she would eat my arm right now. Kate’s eyes are the size of snowballs, looking on in disbelief. Corey is nowhere to be found and I feel as though a spotlight is on me with the clock counting down to see if I can in fact crack the code and make this toddler do as I ask. If not, the floor may fall out from under me because I have epically failed at parenting and will be sent to the land of loser parents. What I want to do is scream YES right back at my two-year-old daughter and stomp my feet until she listens to me. However, I may earn a trip to the psychiatric hospital if I do, which is not looking like a terrible option at this stage of the game. I harness everything I have and call on all the angels within earshot to please let this miniature mutineer bend to my request and give me the damn applesauce. “Andi, it’s time to give me the applesauce right now.” I annunciate each syllable and speak in the most stern and steady voice I can muster up. Miranda assess the seriousness of my tone. The rest of the hostages, or party guests, wait to see her reaction. She knows she has an audience which could play in my favor, but it is unclear what she will do. Then her eyes meet mine and I recognize that defiant gaze. It’s like looking into a mirror. “FINE” she screams and hurdles the applesauce like a wild pitch and a collective gasp is released from the crowd. The applesauce lands in the middle of the Anna’s head on the Frozen cake (of course it did). Miranda immediately bursts into tears. Claire is quick to follow. My mother in typical fashion is of no help, “well, I’ve never seen such out of a two-year-old and on her birthday no doubt.” Corey, aka Johnny-Come-Lately comes running in, “what happen?” “You never disappoint, Ruby.” Kate snickers from behind me. I guess it depends on how you look at this scenario. Miranda did give-up the applesauce. She negotiated. The results weren’t as hoped but all in all I’ll take this as a tie. “Cake anyone?”

Ruby Red

“Let’s go, bitches!” Claire screams as she pulls in with Nelly blaring from her GrandAM.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad! I’m not running in these heels!” Kate yells from the top of the stairs to my third-floor apartment.

I roll my eyes and grab my purse, as I lock my door. “I have neighbors you heifers!”

“Hot In Herre” bumps into the warm night as the four of us are off for a much needed night out. Spring finals are over, and we have three weeks until our last year of college begins. Kate, Claire, Annalise and I have lived a lot of life in our 22 years, yet we are only at the jumping off point for adulthood. This will be a year of planning and prepping what our path toward the future will look like. However, tonight is a night to let lose and just be four girls laughing and dancing until we sweat off our make-up and blisters form on our feet.

With wristlets in hand and gloss on our lips we make our approach into The Hill. It’s Saturday night and we are feeling ourselves. The wind picks up right on cue whipping my hair like I’m on the Victoria Secret catwalk. My heels click with a little extra pep to my strut. The DJ must have known we arrived and turns up P!nk “Get This Party Started” for our walk-up song. We are rolling in tonight like a wave of slow-motion awesomeness. We head to the bar, get our drinks with the ease of what we imagine life is like for celebrities, then turn around to survey the situation.

“I’m ready to shake my ass.” Claire sips her drink.

People are everywhere. Walls are lined with half-drunk-20-something-year-olds focused on the same goal…whatever feels good tonight.

Annalise chugs her beer and slams down the empty bottle. “Let’s do this.”

Like true music video fashion, we sashay to the dance floor in sync with each other and the beat. It feels like the Red Sea parted the crowd to welcome us. All the while, I wonder if I am already buzzed or if everyone is really looking our way. I know I am feeling cute tonight, but this amount of attention was abnormal. We get to middle of crowd with just enough room for the four of us to drop it like it’s hot. We have about three drinks under our belt when, Kate grabs my shoulder and spins me around. I can barely make-out what she is yelling at me over the music, but I the last thing I hear is, “your ass!”

“What about my ass?” I yell back over the bass booming in my ears.

There is a lull in the music at the right moment for Kate’s voice to carry above it, “Your ass is hanging out of your jeans, Ruby!”

She might as well have had a megaphone for the crowd surrounding us, because they all turn to find the ass, which is apparently me tonight. I reach to touch my behind to find my old trusty, but comfortable fire red cotton panties where my jean pocket should be. My brain takes a minute to process what this must look like from behind. No worries, because Annalise gives me a functioning visual.

“Oh hell, Ruby! Your entire cheek is hanging out!” Her concern for my ego is lost in the humor of the situation.

I feel a hand on my shoulder turning me and my ass to another angle. “It sure the hell is! How in the world did you manage this Ruby? The entire pocket is just ripped off!” Claire continues to supply descriptive details so I have a full picture of what I am dealing with here.

We are in the middle of the mob of other minimally-talented-beer-buzzed dancers, which provides some coverage to my current predicament. My wristlet will not provide any amount of coverage and since I opted for comfort over cuteness tonight, the bright red color of my underwear is sure to attract a few glances no matter where I go. I debate how long I can stay here. Do I ask my girls if we can make a dash for it and head to the car? They could form a protective cover and flank me as we nonchalantly made our way out of here. I decide none of that will do. We’d come out for a good time and I wasn’t about to cut that short. Who knows how long my jean pocket has been missing. I felt a little drafty earlier in the night, but that didn’t stop me from laughing and dancing and being with my friends. It would explain the reason the Rea Sea parted to let us on the dance floor earlier and why we seemed to attract so much attention, but that’s not important right now. My girls are looking at me to give them direction. Like troops waiting for an order, I can tell by the look in their eyes, they will go and do whatever I want or need. That is friendship. Ride or die. Hell or high water. Covered or bare ass.  

“Screw it! Let’s get a drink!” With that, I turn on my alcohol-covered heels and head to bar with a red wave behind me. The girls follow my lead and we make our way through the crowd. Kate wraps her arm around me and gives me a squeeze “you are a badass, Ruby. You never disappoint, darlin’!”

“I try,” and I give her a wink right as I bump into a guy standing in our path to the bar.

“Oh, my bad. I didn’t…Dennis?” My voices trails off as I realize it is in fact Dennis, Kate’s boyfriend for the last 100 years. “Hey, who are you here with?” but the smile in my voice slowly fades as I see Kate staring straight ahead with no emotion on her face.

Just then, Annalise and Claire in unison change the conversation, “who the hell is that?”

Their question directed at Dennis was regarding the blonde hiding behind him.

“Dennis. Seriously? What have you done?” Claire pushes forward toward him and the mystery girl.

The slow-motion has returned to haunt us instead of highlight this moment. An extremely drunk girl bounces off Annalise and spills her pink umbrella drink down the front of Claire’s white tank top.

I wait for the f-bombs to start flying. Claire takes a deep breath, calling Buda, Jesus or whoever is listening. We all brace for the fall-out.

Claire throws her arms up and shoves the drunk girl. “Straighten up, sloppy!”

Then a guy comes from behind and pushes Kate. Dennis pushes him threatening him to leave Kate alone.

“What the hell do you care!” Kate yells as she pushes Dennis.

I push mystery blonde just for purpose. Annalise grabs me quickly, “let’s go, now!”

The four of us make a run for the back door dodging the angry mob that we may or may not have started. We were not going to stick around to find out.

For the quickest extraction, we catch a cab back to my apartment but not before we bribe the cab driver to stop at White Castle and order anything he wants. When we get home, we gorge ourselves with chicken rings and cheese fries. We console Kate over the revelation of Dennis. Then we laugh until we are all in tears about mystery blonde taking a fall and Claire’s pink stained white tank. Because isn’t that what friends are for? To push mysterious cheating blonde girls to the ground in the middle of a barroom brawl you all started?

This story always seems to come up at least once a year. Today’s telling is around the pool at Annalise’s 39th birthday. Instead of sloppy, drunk girls there are cake-covered toddlers and pre-teens with water guns. Contagious tears of laughter have us all trying to catch our breath.

“I still picture the bouncers on their radios trying to control the chaos.” Annalise slaps her leg as she cackles out loud. “The girl with the red ass did it!”

“Even at a young age, you never disappoint, Ruby!” Claire wipes her eyes.

“What would have happened if we tried to sneak Ruby out the other way? I may never had found out about Dennis. Can you all image what that would look like today?” Kate takes a sip.

“Cheers to that, ladies! Multiple wins from that night!” I raise my glass to meet their three.

Parties look a little different now. Nights don’t always end at White Castle. Change is inevitable, good or bad. This too shall pass. But friendship that you will cause a barroom brawl for is worth the work to maintain. In life, you need people who will take a pink a drink for you and cover your ass when you need it.