Following up

Yes, folks. I have been going through some stuff. Going through some stuff, I have.

I know that I’m feeling my way through it, but it’s a process, isn’t it?

And it’s so tempting to fall into defensive traps, thoughts, actions and words that separate us from each other instead of drawing us close. I find myself fighting that almost daily now, disillusioned by life and love, wondering what’s next, trying my best to learn, finally, how to live in the moment, each and every blessed one of them.

I catch myself trying to make sense of relationships and wanting to will myself to keep an open heart in the midst of a world that’s filled with pain, some of it intentional, most of it not. Openheartedness is so much better, don’t you think?

I realized, though, that Monday’s posts made little to no sense in the context of a public blog that only shares 1/100th of the story. There is so much more — so much more.

Because I’m one of those who cringes to think that the folks at work are reading her life, and because I’m not foolish enough to think that my daughter may not one day grow up and find this damned thing, I try to be sagacious in what I share and what I don’t.

I fear, however, that it’s led to a relatively boring blog — the top 1% of my life that I’m willing to share publicly, especially since these months have been the best and worst of times for me.

The last six months have brought an extraordinary amount of change. And I realize that I’ve hid behind buttons with cute sayings and short snippets about the gopher who longed to make his home under my grass as a way of not coming out and saying what I was going through — for hundreds of reasons, thousands perhaps. (Okay, a bit of an exaggeration. I do that. I’m an exaggerator. What kind of storyteller would I be if I didn’t allow myself a Beowulf exaggeration every now and then?)

But I realize that it all must seem rather disjointed for anyone who may actually be trying to follow along. I apologize for that. I know you understand.

Losing it

I spent the weekend flooding gopher holes only to realize that I think these are the same holes I drenched with Lysol two weekends ago. I realized after I left the water running and thoroughly saturated everything within five miles of me that these probably aren’t actually new holes, but old holes I just haven’t filled back up.

For some strange reason I decided I simply had to flood the gopher out — these must be new holes. NEW. HOLES!

Out, damned gopher! Out, I say!

It’s official: I’m losing it.

I’m worried about me, folks. I’m afraid that I’ve become Bill Murray’s character in Caddyshack. My eyes are even glazed over.

Of course, many of you would say that I’ve already lost it. This may also be quite possible. Sometimes it’s kind of fun to watch a person lose it. Why else would Jerry Springer have been so enormously popular? And I’m not talking about his political career, folks!

As a plaque I once read said, “I’ve gone to look for myself. If you see me between now and then, hold on to me until I get back.”

Who me?

Cynical? Suspicious?

Absolutely.

Just a quick courtesy notice for those who may not have recognized this little tidbit. Don’t let the Pollyanna smile fool you.

Please do remember, though, that behind most every cynic is someone with a huge heart who’s really just tired of being trampled on.

We would now like to return you to our regularly scheduled programming.