To Cope or Not To Cope...

Well, hello, my lovelies! First of all, HaPPy NEW Year! If you're anything like me you gave 2015 a swift kick in the ass and said hello to 2016 with gusto. I've been on a personal hiatus from le blog because I've been settling in to a new Chez Ray.  Chez Ray Country, as I've affectionately named it, is finally coming together which means my brain is less mushy and I can concentrate on the fun stuff like the bloggy blog!

They say that hindsight is 20/20, but I think it takes YEARS before that is actually true. I look back on some big life hurdles that I had in my 20's and a few of them I can say, "that happened for a reason because of THIS, but I don't know about that." Throughout my time in Utah, especially while I was in therapy, I was hella angry and bitter at my realities, but I know for certain that those 18 months of brutal shedding of toxins were preparing me for some tough life challenges that I would have 5 years later.  As I shared in my last post, Ogden was tough, but it was glorious.  I've officially been gone for 10 days today and they've been challenging, but they have also been full of peace. I have dubbed myself a "coping ninja" after 2015 because there were so many opportunities for me to give up and lay on the floor and get trampled and I didn't do it.  Not once. I paid my bills with hardly any money, I served others who were in far greater need than me and most of all, I turned back to God and put the outcome of my life in His hands.

To cope or not to cope? That is the question we face at times in our lives. I wish I could diagram it for some people because it seems that it is a concept that is not grasped by many. From an early age we teach our children that crying is not acceptable in certain circumstances and then at some point we hope that as teens and adults they pick up on the memo that crying is actually healthy and necessary and not a sign of weakness.  One of the first steps I had to take in my quest to be a coping ninja was letting myself cry.  I'm a stress crier.  It's ridiculous actually, but I've let it be. For many years, I was discouraged to cry in times of stress. The philosophy was that we cry when we are hurt; the rest of the time it shows we are weak.  Wrong, my lovelies.  Absolutely wrong. I held my crap together pretty well during 2015 and its long list of challenges, but there were a lot of times that I couldn't take it anymore and fell apart.  Probably the queen of all comeaparts (totally a word) was on New Year's Eve (impeccable timing) when the moving truck company called me to say that they did not have a truck on their lot in Ogden (I was in Idaho) and there was nothing they could do to help me since I wasn't standing in front of them with my fancy gold credit card in hand. I LOST MY MARBLES on the phone with the truck company employee. I'm sure she was pissed about being at work on the biggest drinking holiday of the year, but I was also completely pissed that it somehow wasn't her problem that the truck I had reserved ten days earlier wasn't sitting on her lot and I was finding out about it while my friend was there to pick up said M.I.A. truck.  The rest of the story goes like this: Uhaul saved the day and I got to move on New Year's Day as planned.  The end result was different than I had planned, but it still accomplished the same goal and for THAT I was grateful and moved forward.  That is coping.  Coping is accepting that we don't have control over everything so we need to accept what is and roll with it.

The second step in my coping ninja quest was finding the root of my pain and addressing the solution from there. I think it's really hard for people to be 100% honest with themselves about the root of their struggles. We all come from different religious backgrounds and family situations that have given us differing foundations (or none at all for some) of how to analyze our life and conquer our trials.  As a society we tend to opt to labels. "I have commitment and trust issues so I drink to numb the pain." "I just broke up with my girlfriend/boyfriend so I'm going to sleep with whoever will have me because that seems to make me feel better in the moment." "I've had a terrible day at work so I'm going to eat everything in my fridge and then throw it up so that I don't get fat." Each of those scenarios, drastic as they sound, are real and happen often to those around us.  I've generally been a "stop eating when life gets hard" kind of lady, but this year I didn't lose the token 20 pounds....I gained it.  I was SO angry when I realized that.  Wait what?  Because my fall back on stress should be the weight loss plan? What it really showed to me was my body was done and couldn't work on overtime to keep my brain functioning like a normal person AND burn fat AND keep me from killing small animals.  Not possible! Coping meant this to my body: going to bed at night and shutting my brain down to sleep, waking up my brain in the morning and filling my heart with faith to take more steps and sending messages to the muscles in my legs to take those steps out the door so I could conquer my trials. The rest was just details.

The third step is letting go of what we can't control and giving it over to a higher being. Many times I've had the opportunity to share my thoughts on God's role in my life. A lot of those opportunities have been to kids or teens so I have composed a simple version. Ironically, the simple version also appeals to the adult audiences because it's just that: plain and simple and to the point. Our life is a time line of events here, here, here and here. Sometimes we can handle a LOT and other times we can handle very little. The good news is that God and Jesus Christ fill in the gaps for us, as we communicate with them through prayer about our shortcomings and what we can't take anymore.  He then sends people into our lives to fill in the gaps, to fill our buckets when the well is dry.  I've experienced it over and over.  The element of coping comes in to play when we can put down our pride and admit that we are weak and the people being sent to help are there because WE NEED THEM. If you need help, ask, but don't turn away the acts of kindness when they arrive and seem remedial to you.  You are the source of someones intuition to help; don't crush that opportunity for them.  Let yourself be loved, looked after and blessed.

I am really grateful for the understanding that my life has a purpose and that my inability to control every little part is OK.  I'm also grateful that when I have a weepy weak day of missing my friends and loves that God fills in the gaps and carries me home and puts peace in my heart while I pour myself to bed.

The moral of the story: The future is bright for each and every one of us and we can accomplish a LOT with patience and the ability to breathe, trust and cope.

Until next time, my lovelies.
-R

Life's Meaning.

Not long ago I was talking about riding on the terror-inducing roller coaster at Lagoon and how I looked my fears in the face and with my best friend by my side, said 'why the hell not?' and took my first (and maybe last) ride.

Well, my life's meaning and its SUPER chain of events, twists and turns continues, but I am happy to report that I CAN see my silver linings -- plural. Why you ask?  A boatload of faith, prayer and a heightened understanding of finding meaning in life because I read the book "Man's Search for Meaning" by Viktor E. Frankl.

I was raised in a very devout Mormon family, but I was blessed to be exposed to a number of different religions and their beliefs and lifestyles.  I've always been fascinated by the intense devotion that is shown by Catholics, Jews and Muslims, to name a few.  For me, I always thought my religion had a lot to embrace and keep track of to be a "good Mormon" but I was and continue to be inspired by my friends who are devout to their beliefs. Judaism, in particular, is a religion that has always peeked my interest.  Maybe it's because of "Fiddler on The Roof" or Ross Gellar singing "Dreidel, Dreidel" in an aardvark costume, but it's probably because of my extensive research of the second World War and the persecution towards the Jewish people. When my lovely friend Amanda recommended this book I was going through a royal shit storm of all shit storms.  She shared with me that this book was written by a Jewish psychiatrist who survived living in the Nazi concentration camps and wrote this book to share his theories on coping and survival under the bleakest of circumstances.  At the time I tried to read it and the raw, tragic details and realities of the concentration camps was just too much.  However, I was not in the right place and when I was faced with the last curve ball of my life, I picked the book up and hardly put it down. I could write a LOT about the wonderful gems that caught my eye, but I will only cover a few to wet your whistle. I told Amanda that this book was like a good solid therapy session for me.

When I was reading this book I had to have a pen handy so I could underline all the things I wanted to remember.  I rarely share my books with another person because I don't want their mind to be drawn away from what it's supposed to glean from the words because the reader is looking at my notes.  Above is a quote that is truly profound.  Transforming our personal tragedies into triumphs.  What does that even mean?  Where on earth can we find the triumph in losing a job unexpectedly, a spouse losing the brave, warrior fight with cancer, or a child going to heaven before it could come home from the hospital with his mom and dad? How?  Well, that's where the miracle comes into play.  What I have found for me is a chat with myself (and then God, in prayer) that goes something like this, "I am so not thrilled with how this has turned out, however, I know that there is a reason.  Even though I can't see the reason this very second because I'm a sniveling, crying mess, I'm still going to tell myself that it was with reason."  Dr. Frankl talks about this a lot in his book...hence the title....and he often referenced people he knew in concentration camps who could bear gruesome conditions and brutality none of us can imagine because their lot in life was to find triumph in the tragedy.  I can't even imagine.  To say I was humbled by the stories he told would be an understatement.

Life really is a time for us to take control and work it out.  I hate to say it, but sometimes we just have to put on our tough kid cape and deal like a super hero. Many times dealing means having a brutal, yet loving reality check with ourselves (and God, in my case) and then using our brains to decipher the emotions from the solutions and then move forward.  As much as I would LOVE to lay in my bed with the covers over my head, I know that can only last so long before I go way cray and say to myself, "ok, Raylynn, you need to adult.  Like for reals, not the fake kind."  No matter our religious background or belief in a certain God, we all have a soul and a spirit inside of us that speaks to our heart and gives us the direction we need to live life to its fullest.  Dr. Frankl talked about prisoners who would get very creative with what little they had to cope and survive. He talked about the brain's ability to survive WAY more than we think it can because we have an innate sense of survival as human beings.  Absolutely beautiful, if you ask me and I've experienced it more times than I care to admit.

The will to live. For many it is difficult.  For many it is impossible.  It is tragic when someone is in a situation with the perception that their life is worthless.  What can we do to find the will when life is dark and sad and hopeless?  What did the concentration camp prisoners do?  They hid photos of their kids and spouses in their clothes, but most times they played mental videos of their perfect life at home.  It broke my heart to read the accounts of men (he only referenced men because they were segregated in the camps) who would talk about their beautiful wives and children and their homes and warm beds almost constantly.  Even in their delusional, malnourished state, they could almost always remember bits and pieces of the life they had before they were imprisoned.  He gave some staggering statistics about the survival rates of men who kept their brain and heart moving by remembering the "good old times" vs. the men who gave up and had a bad attitude and no hope for survival.  Our ultimate goal in life is to have the why so we can survive the how.  Why do you live?  Who do you live for?  The first thing that popped in my mind were the four little humans who call me aunt.  They are my sunshine and I am forever grateful that God has blessed me to be a part of their lives.  I live for them.  I absolutely do.  I also live for my future children who deserve to have a mother who was tough as nails in crappy, hard times and didn't give up.

As I said before, I wish I could share every single note and thought I had while I read this book, but then you wouldn't have a reason to read it and that is not OK.  If I haven't convinced you to read this amazing little book yet, I hope this last thought will.  The perfect race.  Ugh.  It breaks my heart over and over when I think about the underlying cause for the concentration camps and why Hitler's reign was one of the most tragic events in history.  In his mind, he had somehow deduced that there was only one perfect race and that Jews were not included.  How's that for a holocaust definition in one sentence?  Dr. Frankl shared his theory on race by dividing it in to two: decent and indecent. In a very real sense he saw this day after day in the concentration camps. There were extremely indecent Nazi soldiers who did inhumane things to the prisoners, but there were also those who were still human with hearts and took risks to help those prisoners they were keen on. Additionally, there were decent and indecent Jews living in the camps. Those who held the hand of their fellow prisoner when he was dying of a contagious fever so he didn't feel alone when he passed away. We are constantly bombarded with labels. I'm a better person because I have this or I attend this church or I have this skin color or I have this sexual preference.  Stop that. Stop it now. Are you a decent human being or aren't you?  That's the real question and we should all be able to give the answer for ourselves.

I am a better person for reading this book about the meaning of life and how those who had it far worse than I ever will found a way to embrace their triumph in the midst of tragedy.  I say it over and over that we can do hard things but it is TRUE! Put those reminders on the bathroom mirror that life will turn out for the better and that God has a plan and say them out loud to yourself every single time you see them.

The moral of the story: Figure out your why so that you can survive the how. Have a prayer in your heart that the peace will reside inside while the chaos continues outside.  Keep the faith.  Don't give up.

Until next time, my lovelies.
-R

The Boston Girl : Becoming A Woman.

Becoming a woman.  A loaded statement if there ever was one.  I sometimes think back on my childhood and how I dreamt for my own money and the ability to choose and cook my own food and what clothes I wore all the time.  Ha!  What little I knew.  Adulting is hard!  It has its perks aka no curfew on Fridays or pizza for breakfast, but overall, the trade for the opportunity to pay bills and fix my car and do my own laundry isn't worth an unsupervised all-nighter and carb overloaded brunch from time-to-time.

Throughout my career vacation and book reading extravaganza, I've been inspired and moved by the characters I've met in each book. The most recent book that really touched me was "The Boston Girl" by Anita Diamant. The themes, tragedies and triumphs of this story brought me to tears and had me laughing just a bit, but overall it made me SO grateful to be a woman in an era when the quest for equality is present and mutual respect for women of any status is encouraged.  The women in this story lived during a time when their vote and their voice didn't matter and it wasn't easy.

The story takes place in the early 1900's in Boston.  Boston.  I heart Boston.  I'm convinced a piece of my heart still lives in Boston.  I visited while I was in college and it is a magical city.  The history, food (Cheers! - be still my heart), waterfront view, energy and cute Harvard boys rowing on the river all the time made it basically my heaven.  I loved every minute of being there. For this small town girl, the Boston version of city life was and is one that I dream of often.  One of the best parts of Boston is the historical district.  I caught a glimpse of it when I went to Cheers! to have dinner one evening.  Big, beautiful Victorian homes that took my breath away. I would love to say that the characters in the book were residents of these types of homes, but they were not.  They were a blue-collar Jewish family that did everything they could to survive living in their sufficient and very small flat.

Whenever I read a book I always look for themes that I can use in my own life and possibly a future blog post (nerd alert).  This book is full of themes that struck me to the core: women's rights, depression, death and mourning, religious respect and equality, family history and love.  Never ever forget the love.

The main character of the book is a grandmother who is giving her granddaughter a personal history of her life as a young Jewish girl in a family that had its struggles and much happiness.  As I read this book I thought of my own grandmothers and what they would tell me about being a young woman in their day and age.  What did they worry about?  What mattered to them?  What boys were they kissing before they met my grandfathers?  What was their love story and how did they know they had finally met the one they were going to marry?

There were a couple of specific quotes that I wanted to share with all of you and why they were memorable for me.  I won't tell you where they lie in the grand scheme of the book so there is still an element of surprise for the plot.

"When I look at my eighty-five-year-old face in the mirror today, I think, "You're never going to look better than you do today honey, so smile."  Whoever said a smile is the best face-lift was one smart woman." This is beautiful.  There are so so so so many days that smiling is the last thing we want to do.  How do we keep a smile on our face when we've had a major disappointment?  How do we smile through the tears when we've lost a loved one?  How do we smile when the bank account is depleted and the fridge is empty and the car needs gas?  Well, we just do. Fake it to make it.  If we really got technical and scientific, we would talk about the fact that there are muscles in our face that need stretching just as much as those everywhere else.  Stretch them, my lovelies!  Put a smile on your face and embrace the beauties and blessings of your life even amidst the storms.

"She said she felt better talking to someone she could see, someone who cared about her.  "The time I almost died in that bathtub, what kept me going was the look on your face and Irene's and that wonderful nurse.  I could see how worried you were, not angry or disappointed.  You just didn't want me to die.  And afterward, too, you never looked at me with anything but love: no pity, no judgement.  You made it possible for me to forgive myself."  Phew.  I so wish I could tell you the story behind this, but you'll have to read the book to understand the significance of this statement.  Even typing it brought a lump to my throat. In my own life, I have been immensely blessed with so many kind, patient friends and family members who have stood in front of me and embraced me and proved to me how much they cared. In our insanely BUSY and technology-driven world, it is very easy to shoot someone a text and tell them we care, but the human-in-front-of-human interactions are SO critical.  I loved the reference to looking at someone with 'anything but love.'  That is a magical moment, no matter the relationship or its status.  The connection that one can feel when their friend, family member, lover looks at them to convey their compassion is electric. It can save the day.  It can calm the heart and soothe the soul. When was the last time you felt that electricity in your own life? Thank the person. Hug them back. Say, "I love you."

"Women used to think we were supposed to act as if nothing had happened, as if losing a baby you wanted wasn't a big deal.  And if you did say something, people told you that you'd forget all about it when you have a healthy baby.  I wanted to punch them all in the face."  When I wrote my blog post "In My Life" I talked about some conversations I had that inspired me to write the post.  One of those was a conversation with my dear friend who has multiple angel babies waiting for her in heaven.  This week I witnessed the pain that is being felt by another friend who is facing the one year anniversary of her angel baby returning to heaven.  Women are still facing the grief and pain that surrounds bearing and losing children.  Medical advances are vast compared to 1925, but pregnancy and birth is still risky business and takes great faith.  I commend my darling friends for their great strength and faith as they face their life of saying the number of pregnancies vs. living children.

"The Boston Girl" is a book that I will not forget for a long time.  It gave me a perspective and appreciation for becoming a woman. I am LUCKY to have a vote, a voice, an education and a career that I enjoy.  I am also LUCKY to have my health and an understanding of how I can cope on the days that aren't so easy.

The moral of the story:  Becoming a woman in 2015 hasn't changed much from 1925.  The scenery and fashion has changed, but ultimately, we still have trials and triumphs and hope for sunshine and happiness after the storm.  Keep looking life in the face with love.  Never EVER forget the love.

Until next time, my lovelies.
-R
 

Create Your Own Sunshine.

Happy weekend, my lovelies! I can honestly say that this week has been the most mentally taxing in my career vacation adventure, yet so full of sunshine. I won't burden you with the seedy details, but I will share some things I have learned.  But, first....behold....the final photo and the spring version of my hair pictures with Kel-Z Photography.  Rose petals, pink, sunshine in Ogden, happy Ray.  I loved shooting this one because the sunshine was peaking through the trees and we had to get a little creative to make it just right and not too glary (totally a word) and squinty. 

Life tends to make us glary and squinty at times.  I try really hard not to play my redhead cranky bitch card ALL the time, but man, it's not easy when life is turned upside down and I just want to crawl in a hole and cry.  I've had a lot of people tell me that I've handled this latest adventure with grace and poise.  Oh, if only that were true.  I mean, my life seems pretty super awesome on social media because I get to sleep in and do whatever the hell I want; however, that is such a sliver of my life.  In reality, it has been a ginormous test of my coping skills that I learned in organized therapy as well as a religious fundamental test to the nth degree.

There is a hymn in the Mormon hymnbook that has the following line, "when sore trials come upon you, did you think to pray?"  Whenever I sing the song and come to that line I think about the long list of prayers that have been said by me and for me when I have had sore trials in my life.  I am always a little leary when people say "we're praying for you!" because I tend to question it with some, especially on social media, because it can come across trendy and fake.  But, when I see blessing after blessing falling out of the sky and the sunshine that lands in my lap, I have to eat my words and ask for forgiveness because then I know someone (probably everyone) is praying for me.

This week I learned a really great lesson about creating my own sunshine.  I am a creature of habit (thanks, Mom), but at some point the MUNDANE of habit gets to me and I take a polar opposite approach and go a tid bit batty.  I'm sure you can relate.  Be honest with yourself....we all have that in us about something.  Dishes?  Cleaning the guest bathroom?  Sorting socks?  Anyway, my biggest survival method during all of this adventure has been routine.  As much routine as I can have to stay on task, but this week all of my usual routine was so painful.  I picked up the phone to call my mom and this is what she said, "You need a change of scenery adventure. Your usual routine is making you crazy (ier) so figure out a way to change it up so that you don't go nuts this week.  As soon as she said that I started thinking about coping mechanisms that I haven't used a lot during this adventure, but have worked in the past.  At the top of this list is coloring.  I am talking about straight up kiddie coloring in a princess coloring book with fresh new Crayola crayons.  Let me show you....

The change of scenery adventure that day turned in to a grand scavenger hunt of super secret locations that I knew nothing about before that day.  I was incredibly grateful for my tour guide that sent me to some of the most beautiful places in our area. I was also grateful for a new Disney Princess coloring book and a peaceful spot to color away my troubles.  Who says Cinderella, Snow White and Sebastian the Crab don't cure the crazies?  Like I said before, if there was ever any doubt that prayers weren't being said and answered on my behalf, times like this proved me wrong.  Oh. So. Wrong.  

The second coping mechanism that I haven't taken a lot of advantage of during this adventure is being around kiddos.  I've seen my auntie loves a few times in the last five months, but not a ton and I was starving for the simplicity and hilariousness of kid world.  Lucky for me, I happen to know a super cool kindergarten teacher with the BEST group of 5 year-olds and she has been quick and grateful to have me in her classroom to volunteer and participate.  This week I spent 3 days in kindergarten.  To most that sounds insanely exhausting (IT IS), but for me it was so much sunshine.  There is absolutely no time to be worried about the future when you have cute faces telling you how pretty you look (apparently they DO notice when I put on my eyebrows and mascara), hugging you at random and letting you test them on ABC's, numbers and sight words as well as lead a construction paper craft with googly eyes (eek!).  And let's be honest, there is a lesson to be learned when you have a little person who has a meltdown over glue stick and you think, "Honey, you're 5.  Your life is glorious and gives no reason for tears over glue.  Let's stop crying and continue on with the craft."  

When I knew that this moment of sunshine was a true gift from God was on Thursday when a student presented me with a thank you note and treat from his mom that thanked "Miss B's fantastic friend" for being in the classroom in her absence.  As I stood there and read it I had to hold back the tears (there's no crying in kindergarten) and it made my whole week.  So much sunshine right here, my lovelies.  So very much.  

The cure to my inner uneasiness this week really was crayons, super secret change of scenery adventures, mamma thank yous, cute kiddos of the 5 year-old kind and SO MANY construction paper Pete the Cats with googly eyes (someday I will write a whole post about the joy I find in googly eyes).  

The future is bright and my emotional bucket is filled because I took some sound mamma advice to heart.  Shhhh....don't tell her I admitted she was right on social media.  

The moral of the story:  Sunshine doesn't just come from the sky.  It comes from all around us and can turn an upside down week right side up in NO time.  

Until next time, my lovelies.  

-R

The Atlas of Love.

In life it is either feast or famine for me.  I'm a hopeless cause for balance some days and sometimes I just throw all care and worry to the wind and tell myself "it could be worse, I could be a dangerous addict of some kind."  Might sound a bit harsh, but I find it rather amusing (most days).  In the last year I have read more books than I have in the last 5 years.  College fried my brain and my love for reading and it has taken me this long (10+years) to recover and find my reading bug again.  While I was exiting my last career, the stress was SO HIGH.  I would come home at night and want to crawl in a ball and cry, but knew that wasn't always the answer.  I started to see some great book recommendations on Instagram and Facebook and started to read again on my iPad.  I'm a big dork about reading and if it makes my eyes hurt or I can't see the words, I won't do it. **old lady status** The beauty of my iPad is a bright, back light that means I can read in my bed, in the dark.  Perfection.  The last two books I read have been actual hard-copy books, but only because of a random chain of events, including a new light bulb in my lamp.....don't ask.....  The first book I am going to save for a 2nd edition of Beachy Reads & Sunshine Dreams, but the second gets its own post.  Read on, my lovelies!

Do you ever walk into the dollar store and stroll past the books and wonder if it's all crap or if there might be something worth reading hiding in the pile that will only cost you a buck?  On occasion I do, and the last time this happened was when in Idaho visiting my Jo bestie.  She was picking up a few items at the dollar store and the books were in the front of the store...bonus!  I started to dig through them and this book popped out at me.  As you know from my post about Sarah Boucher's book, "Becoming Beauty", I am a sucker for a pretty cover.  I shout praises to authors who have publishers with art departments that know what their doing with cover art.  I mean, I'm only one person, but I take the cover in to serious consideration when deciding whether or not to read a book. 

The front of the book says the following, "This story of women's friendships and redefining 'family' flows with lovely writing."  I could end my review right now because the person who said it was spot on.  But, I'm not!  

There were five themes in this book that I want to briefly address.  They are: friendship, faith, fear, family and love.  

Friendship:  The Atlas of Love is centered around the friendship of 3 graduate students in Seattle.  Talk about three different personalities and family structures too.  The reader quickly realizes that opposites do attract and these three girls are miraculously besties because they are SO different.  The biggest irony of this book is that one of the main characters is Mormon and she's kind of a weirdo.  I can say that because I was raised Mormon and I could tell that the author was very well-versed in her quirky Mormon.  Still so funny, but probably more so because I could relate to it better and have known LOTS of women over the years very similar to this character....let's just leave it there.  The entire premise of this book is friendship through thick, thin, sad, happy, angry and repeat over and over.  

Faith:  As I said earlier, there is a blatant reference to faith because of the Mormon main character, but she does not dominate the faith discussion.  Throughout the book, there is much deliberation about faith in life, faith in God, faith in humanity and faith in what is meant to happen.  Who can relate to that more often than you care to admit?  **pick me, pick me**

Fear:  This book involves a baby.  It involves a baby that is a BIG surprise and thus enters a boat load of fear from numerous characters.  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you didn't see coming?  How do you process when life throws you a curve ball that you DID see coming?  That's the toughie for me personally.  Knowing that the end is inevitable because the writing is on the wall so you brace yourself for the impact.  Fear of the future presents itself in numerous forms throughout the book as they deal with an unexpected pregnancy, some broken loves, balancing life and the mourning and coping that goes along with it.  

Family: As I quoted above, the book talks about redefining family.  Without giving too much away (ok, I'll give away as much is on the back cover), these three girls take on the raising of the baby boy who is named Atlas.  They affectionately call it tri-parenting and it sort of works.  They are all insanely busy graduate students so they make the decision that the only way this little boy can have a relatively normal life, given the circumstances, is for them to commit to be mothers together.  It really is a heartwarming and delightful concept in theory, but they soon find that the mamma bear a.k.a. she who cooked and birthed said child is still the final say in all decisions made about Atlas.  One of the things that really touched my heart was the passion that came from the two friends who weren't the biological mothers, but dedicated their lives as if they were his mother.  In addition to their commitment to this little boy, their families also committed to being adoptive grandparents and everything that accompanied these roles.  I related well because I am the proud adoptive aunt of lots of little people who I fiercely love as much as my biological nephews and niece.  Motherhood hasn't been my adventure yet and I am so grateful for the little humans who call me Auntie Ray who aren't biological, but who I love like they were from day one.  

Love: The backbone of any great story is love and this is no exception.  Love is kind, love is selfless, love is patient and love is tough.  And when I say tough, I mean both kinds--the enduring and the challenging.  I know from personal experience that the more deeply we love the more deeply we hurt.  It seriously sucks when it doesn't go in our favor, but it is also the most rewarding and beautiful gift to have in life.  My heart runneth over when I see the beautiful, giggly faces of my nephews and niece via FaceTime and even more so when I get barrel-hugged (a real word) when I see them in person.  The human heart and soul has infinite capacity to love if we will let it.  I will be the first to admit that I am one who can easily put my heart in the deep freeze and let it sit on ice for an indefinite time, but I don't like how it makes me feel.  I want to love and be loved, thus I take risks and embrace my ability to feel the way I feel and live life as it comes.  

The quote above is near the end of the book and it really inspired me.  Not too long ago I referenced "The End" really meaning "The Beginning" and I think this quote attests to that as well.  When we have loved then we can come to the close of a moment and begin the next set of amazing moments.  Love is our focus.  Love can and will continue to reclaim us if we will let it.  And just as this quote says there will be anger AND love, with hefty helpings of both, but love will always win.  I will say it again....love will win if we LET it.  Anger is hella toxic and it can eat you alive and burn your insides if you let it.  Take the time to let friendship, faith, family and love heal your heart because when love is in the air, the next chapter is about to begin.  

The moral of the story:  All you need is love.  The Fab Four knew what they were talking about.  Trust it and let it reclaim you.  

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Shit storms happen. Your sunshine will come.

One of the agricultural phenomenon that I have never understood is the practice of using animal feces, specifically the cow kind, as fertilizer.  Science has never been my strong suit so this isn't a lesson in the mechanics of this practice as a good thing. However, it IS an opportunity to share with you what I have learned in the thick of some of the shit storms of life.

Over the years I have had some days of fog and sadness. We all have! But it isn't until I'm in the land of sunshine again that I realize how incredibly blessed I am during the fog. Here are a few practices that helped me wade through it all.

1. Service. No matter how bad it EVER EVER EVER gets there is always someone who has it worse than us. If you don't believe me, call your local funeral parlor or the homeless shelter. During this last fog of mine I really jumped into service as a healing method. And the beauty of it is now I am on the Board for this organization and it continues to enrich my life. 

2. Journalling. This is a survival tactic I learned to love during therapy and ever since then my brain goes into organization mode as soon as pen hits paper and the healing transpires.  Most recently I have added art time to my journalling and I create word art of inspirational sayings that come to mind as I am writing. Art therapy at its finest. 

3. Inspirational reading material. Whether you're religious or not, finding reading material to inspire and lift you (scripture or otherwise) is critical. My favorite read is "The Art of Happiness" by The Dalai Lama and Howard C. Cutler, MD.  It is deep, but it is amazing.  The best way to describe it is a compilation of western medicine and eastern religion and how we can learn from both. It was life changing for me, especially working through mourning. 

4. Kid time. I am very blessed to have little people (aka cousins) that live close to me and love coming to play at my house and I theirs.  Many an impromptu trip to see these cute people to play trucks and blocks and watch movies and be showered with kisses and hugs.  

5. Music. In November I plan on doing an entire blog about this so I won't give away too much. But, I will say this.... My go-to bad day music may not be what you expect! But it does exist and it is glorious. My current vehicle has a great sound system so I've spent a lot of time driving and singing like a diva. 

Obviously this is a small snapshot of very difficult times of life.  The most difficult task when we are in the fog is trusting that what's in front of us is going to be a good thing and that when we are close enough to something good we will be able to see it.  And just like actual fog, some is thicker than others and even headlights don't help us get through and we have to take it slow until it eventually lifts.  As the days get shorter and the air is cooler I have a looming nervousness in the back of my mind because I know the struggle that the winter months bring for me. But, the more coping strategies I add to my life, the better I become.  And let me be clear that it doesn't make it go away completely. But, it does help me see past the shit feeling and get to work.  And the sunshine ALWAYS comes out after the storm. It has to! That's the way God created it. 

The moral of the story: there ARE silver linings in every storm, even if that storm smells a little icky. 

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Once upon a time ....

Once upon a time far FAR far Far away there was a land and its name started with the letter “t” and ended with herapy.  Just outside the land of herapy there was a girl named Raylynn and she decided that before she could move out of her cardboard box called f-ed up and miserable into a glorious beachside mansion of peace and happiness she needed to go see the queen of herapy whose name was Jenn.  And then their journey began.  Raylynn, her big pink journal with colored pens tucked inside, and Jenn with her blank pieces of white paper, blue ink pen and a clipboard.  

When I made the decision to go to visit Jenn, I was a MESS.  M to the E to the S to the SSSSS.  To protect all parties concerned and to keep the muck tucked away in history (right where it belongs), I’m not going to detail the WHY I went because it actually became a secondary reason by the time I was done.  

There is a four-letter word out there that is very misunderstood and misused.  It is the word COPE.  I couldn’t cope.  I couldn’t cope with my family, I couldn’t cope with being a grown-up, I couldn’t cope with a boy and I couldn’t cope with my emotions being all over the place and in time bomb status all the damn time.  And it was pretty well-known to my inner self that there was some bottled up toxic sludge that needed to be addressed.  Talk about super awesome when you walk into a complete stranger’s office and look them straight in the eye and say, “um ya, I’m jacked up.  Can you help me?”  And then she looks at you and says, “I can help you, but it’s going to take a LOT of work on your part too.”  

There is another misconception about “therapy” that if you GO, you will be FIXED by GOING.  WRONG.  WRONG.  WRONG.  It takes work from both parties and the most work is going to come from the person looking at you in the mirror; yourself.  And that work will continue into the rest of your life after therapy.  Yes, you need to communicate with the sources of struggle, but it may be that you can’t and all you can fix is yourself. 

I am going to highlight the Top 5 things I learned while in therapy that I think everyone can do and benefit from.

1. Journal, Journal, Journal.  On visit 2 I was equipped and armed with a very fat journal and colored pens so that I could write it out.  And she told me to write my story.  Write out every character and their role and their demise and how they were affecting me and what I needed to do to deal with them better.  She said, write it like a story, because it is a story…it is your story.  A bit of a dicey, swearword-laden bitter diatribe was more like it, but nonetheless, it was my story.  AND, the genius thing about journaling is once something is written on paper it is transferred from the emotional side of the brain to the analytical side.  A purge in every sense of the word.  

2. Exercise.  There is ABSOLUTELY no way I would have made it through therapy without my gym membership.  I would wake up every morning very angry about the reality of peeling back my rotten onion and I wasn’t sleeping that great anyway.  So, I would roll out of bed and head to the gym for at least 30 minutes.  That’s all I could give.  And I did.  Every.single.day.  

3. Find your reporting angel.  Therapy is desperately difficult because you’re bearing your soul to a stranger but you’re still trying to process and heal.  So, find that person you can confide in and that will not judge you as you go through this angry healing ordeal.  My angel is named Melanie.  God bless that amazing friend of mine.  I adore her because she listened and didn’t ever judge me on how screwed up I was and the choices I was making with some situations in my life because my coping skills were basically shot.  She and I still talk almost daily and I know that I always have her to remind me that I have made HUGE strides since those horrible days and that I can make it through anything because I have those skills to cope.  

4. Have a reward ritual after the therapy session.  Can we all say cheese fries and Sonic Diet Cherry Limeade?  Nom nom nom!!!  That was my reward ritual.  I would go to therapy after work so it would be late when I was done and I would usually cry on my drive home and I knew that once I had those cheese fries and a Sonic Diet Cherry Limeade that I was going home and going to bed.  And it was code for my friends that if it was a “non-therapy day” and I was in trouble I could text them and say, “it’s been a cheese fries day” and they were on my doorstep and we were headed to the Training Table for cheese fries and a vent session.  

5. Let yourself be mad for 24 hours.  I usually would have a detox day after therapy and it generally wasn’t a very good day.  If you ask a cancer patient they will most likely tell you that the days after chemo treatment SUCK.  You’re sick and tired and have the looming reality of it not working and on and on and on.  Therapy really is mental chemotherapy and those days after are tough.  But, they are not impossible.  And after 24 hours it’s time to get to work and focus on the next weeks tasks that your therapist has set.  

I will remind you, if you’ve made it this far in the post, that if your opinion about therapy is if you GO, you will be FIXED by GOING then you are WRONG.  WRONG.  WRONG.  It takes work from both parties and the most work is going to come from the person looking at you in the mirror; yourself.  I am not cured.  I am not a genius at coping.  2013 presented some huge setbacks for me and I had to really work through them, but that is the POINT.  I had the tools to do it and I did.  And 2014 has been a flying cluster year of curve balls too.

The moral of the story:  Life is not easy.  And if you feel like you live in a cardboard box just outside the land of herapy, then find your Jenn.  Because living in a mansion of peace and happiness (by the imaginary beach with a yummy drink with an umbrella in it) is far better.  And so rewarding.  

Until next time, my lovelies.  

-R