Chill biting wind blows against the cheek as you to step to keep up with the crowd.The doorways are congested with the throngs of people so I rush around to find another entrance, the front doors are locked, despite the cold I admire the woodwork, the beauty of the edifice, the carved stone and brass handles. I run toward the now vacant turret doorway and I pull open the heavy door and step inside the historical scent assails the senses, the quiet murmur of the congregation, I breathe it all in, soak it in as I ascend the stairway. Narrow and steep, I tread carefully on the worn carpet and marvel at the feel of the thin wood rail I grip to, which is somehow out of proportion to where it needs to be to comfortable grasp it. I stop at the window well and once more feel of the atmosphere of the pioneer spirit, I ponder that if I just turn the next bend I will come across the ghost of the pioneers. As I reach the top I look out over the balcony, how many dignitaries and prophets have walked these grounds, look now at the congregation and I look for a spot to sit, clear across the balcony an empty spot is apparent so I make my way there, holding onto my baby girls hand lest she escape, or fall. I run my hand over the woodwork, taking in the plain utilitarianism of the benches, yet they are beautiful. I take my seat, and hold my daughter next to me and little son, and I search for my older children, down in the choirs, they are there awaiting there turns to sing. I let my little ones crowd next to the railing as their brother and sister sing, I crowd there too and take pictures of my children as they sing. How joyous I feel, how proud. Such nostalgia as I remember sitting here, sitting over there, and walking through the edifice for Stake Conferences and performances past. Even ironically that I sat there one cold winters night behind a girl who tormented me at school while I was growing up... I wondered then what she thought, and if she turned would she recognize me? I imagined myself as a young mother sitting with my oldest son as a baby, how I tried to help entertain my little brother and sister as my dad sang in the choir.As my young son asked for water I carefully walked down the stairs to the restrooms, cramped an inadequate as the quarters were we all loved the atmosphere, the building...
And now it is gone, burned in the night
I've walked past and admired the quiet beauty, my cousins invited me to be part of a pageant on the lawn many years ago, though I declined I still remember... I was proud of the Tabernacle, my grandparents worshiped there, my ancestors helped to build it. My heart held a place for it... and now my heart is broken for the loss. I'm sure we will rebuild, our craftsmen and dedicated members will all want to help... it will just never be the same...
Friday, December 17, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
A Short Chance to Write
I haven't been writing much. I've felt words escape me as I've been caught up in a whirlwind of disorganization and as I've been trying to keep up with the expectations of my manager at work.
For some reason the things that I love and care about most deeply get buried in the back of my mind when confronted by such chaos.
I think of things to write, structure them in my mind and then sigh at the knowledge that my thoughts will soon be lost. Left to flit away because I'm so preoccupied or tired.
Then the blankness of the screen when I bring it up to write mocks me, and I lament the emptiness of my blog which symbolizes to me the emptiness of organized thought that I came to revel in when I had more time to jot them down here.
Interestingly enough this space has been a free medium for me to write than that of my diary which I am afraid that my children might find at some future point and complain to me of my pedantic thoughts and my blunders.
I've been battling these many months (during my blogging inactivity) the apathy that comes with exhaustion, the souls cry for what cannot be, the emptiness of the future when it has been ripped from the standard modality and even the shame of my situation. More especially the abject poverty that we were in and the struggle to break loose of it and the thoughts of poverty.
One thing I have noticed is that it is difficult to maintain a sense of what you do have; the blessings, the things material and immaterial, when you are battling the void. When poverty strikes the sense of loss can sometimes turn into a desperation to fill it with things, and there is the danger because the sense of things can be gained and lost so quickly.
I've been battling with loss, the loss of my marriage, which has still been dangled before me off and on over these many past months since my husband has put on this great show of things, ah and now he walks into my house like it is his own....
The perverseness of it is that though he is to most people and most of the time seems to be a simple guy who is just trying to do the right things in life, though he helps me sometimes around the house, though he has ceased to be (in many ways) the great negative and angry influence in my kids lives... still
and I don't know exactly what to say, it is difficult for me to place blame or talk negatively about people... and he's here playing with the kids, showing them a $5 dollar bill, throwing Roxie in the air, telling Sione to wear nicer clothes because it is Sunday and all... perhaps this is all innocently done, no prerogative... and I recall the rituals and routines of our previous life and think (or have thought in the past) that this is how life has been and is supposed to be. That he's the father of my children and being with him is how my life is supposed to be. At this point, I want to scream... it is the thought of what should have been and the thought of what is.
For I know of his perversity, I know of my sisters pain and her ruined life. I know how capable he is of lying and how deceitful he has always been. Then as he talks in his jolly way I am irritated by seemingly innocent things.... and it has been going on in this way for the past year. It's been since last March when I first filed the papers, and then July I believe when I updated them with all the information that was needed and I got his signature. Yet we are still not divorced, and why? Because he won't go take a class that the state requires! So I'm pulled on a string, where I know the boundary and the hidden subcontext but where I'm constantly held to the past and the present is but a tortuous moment where I'm trying to define what life I should be leading. We are not told what to establish when we are getting a divorce, and the lines we are told to draw get blurred when what needs to be done is confused with what shouldn't be done.
I have talked with the lawyer for the state (we've been involved with a DCFS case) and he said that he can file papers and he will spend a weekend in Jail if he doesn't take the class... he has until this Thursday...
In the meantime, what do I want now? I'm looking for strength and integrity, I'm looking for order and love... I'm looking for the peace of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and a bright future...
For some reason the things that I love and care about most deeply get buried in the back of my mind when confronted by such chaos.
I think of things to write, structure them in my mind and then sigh at the knowledge that my thoughts will soon be lost. Left to flit away because I'm so preoccupied or tired.
Then the blankness of the screen when I bring it up to write mocks me, and I lament the emptiness of my blog which symbolizes to me the emptiness of organized thought that I came to revel in when I had more time to jot them down here.
Interestingly enough this space has been a free medium for me to write than that of my diary which I am afraid that my children might find at some future point and complain to me of my pedantic thoughts and my blunders.
I've been battling these many months (during my blogging inactivity) the apathy that comes with exhaustion, the souls cry for what cannot be, the emptiness of the future when it has been ripped from the standard modality and even the shame of my situation. More especially the abject poverty that we were in and the struggle to break loose of it and the thoughts of poverty.
One thing I have noticed is that it is difficult to maintain a sense of what you do have; the blessings, the things material and immaterial, when you are battling the void. When poverty strikes the sense of loss can sometimes turn into a desperation to fill it with things, and there is the danger because the sense of things can be gained and lost so quickly.
I've been battling with loss, the loss of my marriage, which has still been dangled before me off and on over these many past months since my husband has put on this great show of things, ah and now he walks into my house like it is his own....
The perverseness of it is that though he is to most people and most of the time seems to be a simple guy who is just trying to do the right things in life, though he helps me sometimes around the house, though he has ceased to be (in many ways) the great negative and angry influence in my kids lives... still
and I don't know exactly what to say, it is difficult for me to place blame or talk negatively about people... and he's here playing with the kids, showing them a $5 dollar bill, throwing Roxie in the air, telling Sione to wear nicer clothes because it is Sunday and all... perhaps this is all innocently done, no prerogative... and I recall the rituals and routines of our previous life and think (or have thought in the past) that this is how life has been and is supposed to be. That he's the father of my children and being with him is how my life is supposed to be. At this point, I want to scream... it is the thought of what should have been and the thought of what is.
For I know of his perversity, I know of my sisters pain and her ruined life. I know how capable he is of lying and how deceitful he has always been. Then as he talks in his jolly way I am irritated by seemingly innocent things.... and it has been going on in this way for the past year. It's been since last March when I first filed the papers, and then July I believe when I updated them with all the information that was needed and I got his signature. Yet we are still not divorced, and why? Because he won't go take a class that the state requires! So I'm pulled on a string, where I know the boundary and the hidden subcontext but where I'm constantly held to the past and the present is but a tortuous moment where I'm trying to define what life I should be leading. We are not told what to establish when we are getting a divorce, and the lines we are told to draw get blurred when what needs to be done is confused with what shouldn't be done.
I have talked with the lawyer for the state (we've been involved with a DCFS case) and he said that he can file papers and he will spend a weekend in Jail if he doesn't take the class... he has until this Thursday...
In the meantime, what do I want now? I'm looking for strength and integrity, I'm looking for order and love... I'm looking for the peace of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and a bright future...
Friday, October 22, 2010
Direction
It's dispiriting, a look at Yahoo's homepage... I keep looking, up and down, scroll left and right trying to find some meaning to it... there is none I wish I could type something in the search bar that would bring something useful up, something to give direction to these searching thoughts.
It is all a disquieting disorganization of meaningless drivel and yet I open this browser everyday hoping to find something that means something...
Yeah, I've had it... on to a different web browser... but what?
and what direction am I looking to take anyway?
It is all a disquieting disorganization of meaningless drivel and yet I open this browser everyday hoping to find something that means something...
Yeah, I've had it... on to a different web browser... but what?
and what direction am I looking to take anyway?
Saturday, October 16, 2010
A glimpse of life October 16th 2010
I feel sick, a perfect excuse to lay around and give myself a break for the day. I wanted to exercise this week, Monday was good, went to the gym in the morning and came back all sore... I said it was good right, just checking...
The rest of the week was spent trying to fulfill all of the many things that I am supposed to be fulfilling during a day. I guess it all has to do with routines, it's hard to establish a routine though when so much is thrown your way. But then it may be better to just set it up and stick to it, I have a tendency to do just one more load of laundry, a few more dishes, pick up a few more toys... sweep a little... until it is very late and the kids are onrey. Perhaps it would be better to leave it all and get to bed seeing as nobody comes to visit anyway. Perhaps it's all in the hope that they will come by, this mysterious guest... or the ideal that if I can keep my house perfectly clean then I will have order and serenity in my life. Nice hope
I feel really good about how hard I've worked at work, it can become a bit ridiculous though when there are so many expectations put upon my shoulders. Ironically I was told that 3rd party billing was the most important thing and that if the clerks wanted me for something I was to tell them that I was on a schedule and then when I went in for my performance evaluation I was told that I was rated low on communication because I wasn't helping the clerks... I roll my eyes constantly at these constant conflicting bits of idealism.
I think I will be better at the "communication" thing next month though, if I don't get hit with another ridiculous project. I wasn't ever really bad at communication, when the first person that I trained learned her process so well that she's been able to train everyone else, though I'm not sure she picked out all of the flaws in the process that I taught her to look for. At this point the process has gone from something I knew very well to something that I'm not quite as sure of because so many little changes have been made. That's how it has been in the department, little changes...
One thing that I'm not so happy about is the negativity that's creeped into the department, the girl that I was just talking about, though interesting and witty at times is a very negative person. She nit picks a lot and points fingers and is incredibly good at talking behind other peoples backs... I don't like the negative energy but it's hard to get rid of once it's there.
SG
The rest of the week was spent trying to fulfill all of the many things that I am supposed to be fulfilling during a day. I guess it all has to do with routines, it's hard to establish a routine though when so much is thrown your way. But then it may be better to just set it up and stick to it, I have a tendency to do just one more load of laundry, a few more dishes, pick up a few more toys... sweep a little... until it is very late and the kids are onrey. Perhaps it would be better to leave it all and get to bed seeing as nobody comes to visit anyway. Perhaps it's all in the hope that they will come by, this mysterious guest... or the ideal that if I can keep my house perfectly clean then I will have order and serenity in my life. Nice hope
I feel really good about how hard I've worked at work, it can become a bit ridiculous though when there are so many expectations put upon my shoulders. Ironically I was told that 3rd party billing was the most important thing and that if the clerks wanted me for something I was to tell them that I was on a schedule and then when I went in for my performance evaluation I was told that I was rated low on communication because I wasn't helping the clerks... I roll my eyes constantly at these constant conflicting bits of idealism.
I think I will be better at the "communication" thing next month though, if I don't get hit with another ridiculous project. I wasn't ever really bad at communication, when the first person that I trained learned her process so well that she's been able to train everyone else, though I'm not sure she picked out all of the flaws in the process that I taught her to look for. At this point the process has gone from something I knew very well to something that I'm not quite as sure of because so many little changes have been made. That's how it has been in the department, little changes...
One thing that I'm not so happy about is the negativity that's creeped into the department, the girl that I was just talking about, though interesting and witty at times is a very negative person. She nit picks a lot and points fingers and is incredibly good at talking behind other peoples backs... I don't like the negative energy but it's hard to get rid of once it's there.
SG
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
"I'm not your feeder"
I thought that a rather odd statement from my mom when my daughter asked her for a bite of her food. At first I thought of a bird-feeder, then realizing that this was a rather common statement from mom to her Grand-kids lately I jumped in and told Roxie that we'd go home and get some food.
Now I understand the motivation behind what she said; my brother moved back into their house about a year ago which has been a continual stress on them from the start. He has visitation with his daughters on the weekends and since he can't be bothered most of the time (because he's texting random people from internet land) his daughters are usually hungry and usually ask my parents to get them food.
Well, it's a sad state that Grandma's house has become, in some ways, a place to learn bad manners and selfishness... seriously I slap myself if I let myself get that selfish (I have gotten that selfish before and I hated myself for it).
and then because I'm eternally looking at both sides of the issue I think that my mom's probably tired, she's had a long day and doesn't want to have to get up after finally sitting down to eat...
But then, what about most other woman/Grandmothers that I know...? There are not many, but the very hardened, that would shoot off a statement like that and not think twice.
and what about "Sweetheart, could you ask your mommy? She's right there..."
"I'm not your feeder..." seriously!
Now I understand the motivation behind what she said; my brother moved back into their house about a year ago which has been a continual stress on them from the start. He has visitation with his daughters on the weekends and since he can't be bothered most of the time (because he's texting random people from internet land) his daughters are usually hungry and usually ask my parents to get them food.
Well, it's a sad state that Grandma's house has become, in some ways, a place to learn bad manners and selfishness... seriously I slap myself if I let myself get that selfish (I have gotten that selfish before and I hated myself for it).
and then because I'm eternally looking at both sides of the issue I think that my mom's probably tired, she's had a long day and doesn't want to have to get up after finally sitting down to eat...
But then, what about most other woman/Grandmothers that I know...? There are not many, but the very hardened, that would shoot off a statement like that and not think twice.
and what about "Sweetheart, could you ask your mommy? She's right there..."
"I'm not your feeder..." seriously!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Striving for the ultimate goal
Sometimes you don't realize how hungry you are until you sit down to a really good feast. Especially when everything is balanced and well prepared, it is at times like that that I really understand how truly undernourished I feel at times.
Feast
A feast upon good words, the words of the Gospel.
Envision a summit, the goal of which is to reach the peak and rest and which you can so clearly see as you set out to reach it. In the beginning it is easy to climb, many people have set out before you and the path is well marked. It is slightly challenging but you adapt to the changes and get used to the shifting rocks that you come across at times. You even play a bit and are exhilarated by the challenge before you, then you reach a point where the path becomes more difficult, you hear some friends calling "come here, the path is easier," and you follow them only to find yourself entrapped in a gulf with weeds choking the way. Then at some point you get out and start again, only you know to avoid the weeds, and as you reach a clearing you see again the peak, the goal.
So you set out again and this time you meet some on their way down and as you greet them they tell you of the straightness of the path and how perilous the journey, some even tell you that they don't even believe that the summit exists. Then you become discouraged, not seeing the summit anymore you find you disbelieve yourself.
Then there are others who are pressing forward and they tell you of their firm belief, remembering your vision of the peak you question your doubt and are ashamed that you were persuaded to disbelieve. So not knowing which to believe, the ones saying that yes there is a summit or those who say no, there is not you enter a state of cautious trial thinking that you will continue to climb, but slowly evaluating each step. Then the path becomes unbearable, you find yourself feeling foolish and at times hypocritical, the path seems incredibly long.
The songs and the words of those who believe irritate and bite at you. You can't seem to live up to those standards those "unrealistic" ideals. Their words seem injunctions against you and your existence, their songs the idealistic drivel of blind believers.
Yet the opposite crowd seems so lost and fallen, their groping blindness so repulsive.
Still thinking that you can find your way by your diligent effort you continue on, only your not quite sure where your going. So you walk right past the words of the one, though you glance at them and you are repulsed by the words of the other, though they seem compelling.
Somehow, though you've become disillusioned you still believe that the goal is worth reaching, even though you are starving for the answers to your questions.
Feast
A feast upon good words, the words of the Gospel.
Envision a summit, the goal of which is to reach the peak and rest and which you can so clearly see as you set out to reach it. In the beginning it is easy to climb, many people have set out before you and the path is well marked. It is slightly challenging but you adapt to the changes and get used to the shifting rocks that you come across at times. You even play a bit and are exhilarated by the challenge before you, then you reach a point where the path becomes more difficult, you hear some friends calling "come here, the path is easier," and you follow them only to find yourself entrapped in a gulf with weeds choking the way. Then at some point you get out and start again, only you know to avoid the weeds, and as you reach a clearing you see again the peak, the goal.
So you set out again and this time you meet some on their way down and as you greet them they tell you of the straightness of the path and how perilous the journey, some even tell you that they don't even believe that the summit exists. Then you become discouraged, not seeing the summit anymore you find you disbelieve yourself.
Then there are others who are pressing forward and they tell you of their firm belief, remembering your vision of the peak you question your doubt and are ashamed that you were persuaded to disbelieve. So not knowing which to believe, the ones saying that yes there is a summit or those who say no, there is not you enter a state of cautious trial thinking that you will continue to climb, but slowly evaluating each step. Then the path becomes unbearable, you find yourself feeling foolish and at times hypocritical, the path seems incredibly long.
The songs and the words of those who believe irritate and bite at you. You can't seem to live up to those standards those "unrealistic" ideals. Their words seem injunctions against you and your existence, their songs the idealistic drivel of blind believers.
Yet the opposite crowd seems so lost and fallen, their groping blindness so repulsive.
Still thinking that you can find your way by your diligent effort you continue on, only your not quite sure where your going. So you walk right past the words of the one, though you glance at them and you are repulsed by the words of the other, though they seem compelling.
Somehow, though you've become disillusioned you still believe that the goal is worth reaching, even though you are starving for the answers to your questions.
The Whole Self
I have given myself a new challenge, it is this, to look in the mirror and to not only accept what I see but to love what I see. To completely accept and love that person.
It is not as if I don't accept myself, or that I don't love myself, on many levels I love the person that I am. But in some ways I see flaws, scars, wrinkles, and proportions on my body that I wish were somehow different. So my body becomes this entity outside of myself, something that I live with, but never fully accept.
What if, when I looked in the mirror I saw a functioning, marvelous creation? A self healing and resilient presence.
Exercise has been an attack in the past, a battle against all that I cannot accept, a war against that separate entity where I have felt unfitly housed. It has been done with the greatest amount of distraction that I could muster, detaching myself from the pain that my muscles are crying out to me that they are feeling.
What if exercise is an awareness, a movement of love which is felt and carried out throughout my being, where I am feeling and acknowledging myself, my muscles, my wholeness. Tai Chi comes to mind.
I have not had the time to carry out a serious study of healing movements, but I have a few resources, I will study them today. :)
With love and appreciation
SG
It is not as if I don't accept myself, or that I don't love myself, on many levels I love the person that I am. But in some ways I see flaws, scars, wrinkles, and proportions on my body that I wish were somehow different. So my body becomes this entity outside of myself, something that I live with, but never fully accept.
What if, when I looked in the mirror I saw a functioning, marvelous creation? A self healing and resilient presence.
Exercise has been an attack in the past, a battle against all that I cannot accept, a war against that separate entity where I have felt unfitly housed. It has been done with the greatest amount of distraction that I could muster, detaching myself from the pain that my muscles are crying out to me that they are feeling.
What if exercise is an awareness, a movement of love which is felt and carried out throughout my being, where I am feeling and acknowledging myself, my muscles, my wholeness. Tai Chi comes to mind.
I have not had the time to carry out a serious study of healing movements, but I have a few resources, I will study them today. :)
With love and appreciation
SG
Friday, September 24, 2010
Facing My Goliaths
This week/month has been rather trying, an understatement to say the least. I was put on a project at work, the person that used to handle the project was leaving and they needed someone to do it, so over the course of about a week he showed me how to manipulate the spreadsheets and put them in order.
I naively thought that I understood what to do, I was scared though that when the time came to do it I wouldn't be able to... and I wasn't, at first.
I had deadlines to meet, and I was told by my manager that she had confidence in me and I wanted to shake her and say "are you crazy woman? I haven't ever done this kind of thing before! I will mess it up and you will be disappointed and angry with me...!!"
Nevertheless she left me to scratch my head and sort it out, it was very frustrating... I had notes but for some reason they just didn't seem to fit any logical order, they were all bits and pieces to a puzzle that I was terrified of handling. So I kept asking her questions and she has been so busy that she's been giving me distracted half- hearted answers, I've figured out that she honestly thinks that she's helped even though I (and others) are still left feeling confused.
So, I just started opening spreadsheets and pulling reports. Then I randomly started formatting the reports like I had been shown... but the crux was that I needed this list of customers and their cancel dates and I had queries to pull to find them, I had had previous instruction, I had examples of past spreadsheets... but things just wouldn't work the tools that I was using to try and find the answers to my questions just wouldn't work for me... so I spent many nights and shed many tears sitting there sorting it all out.
Then there was the battle that I was waging in my mind about how much I hated all of it, how much I wished that I was doing something else, ANYTHING else. Why had I chosen accounting in the first place I HATED IT!! ARGH!!! ON the other hand I was arguing with myself trying to be more positive, trying to look at all of the ways that I was improving, trying to deal with the stress during the day with other people there who needed my help and at night when I was tired and just wanted to go home, especially when things were not working. Plus the fact that I really needed this job in the first place and how much I wanted to prove to the world that I would be a good worker and how I wanted to prove to myself as well that I could be competent... and how much I wanted to be able to know all of the things that I needed to know...
You know what, I never would have been able to learn as much as I have learned if I had had an easier time at this. I've found that to be true with everything in life... still, it is hard and I wish that I could just absorb all of the stuff I need to know and just be incredibly talented w/o the hard work... hmmm.... well, I guess I'll just have to survive the hard work... and maybe when I come out on the other side, even if I end up not wanting to do accounting in the future, I will be more talented for having faced and conquered the difficulties that I have had this past month/nay lifetime really... ;)
Hope you all are doing well...
SG
I naively thought that I understood what to do, I was scared though that when the time came to do it I wouldn't be able to... and I wasn't, at first.
I had deadlines to meet, and I was told by my manager that she had confidence in me and I wanted to shake her and say "are you crazy woman? I haven't ever done this kind of thing before! I will mess it up and you will be disappointed and angry with me...!!"
Nevertheless she left me to scratch my head and sort it out, it was very frustrating... I had notes but for some reason they just didn't seem to fit any logical order, they were all bits and pieces to a puzzle that I was terrified of handling. So I kept asking her questions and she has been so busy that she's been giving me distracted half- hearted answers, I've figured out that she honestly thinks that she's helped even though I (and others) are still left feeling confused.
So, I just started opening spreadsheets and pulling reports. Then I randomly started formatting the reports like I had been shown... but the crux was that I needed this list of customers and their cancel dates and I had queries to pull to find them, I had had previous instruction, I had examples of past spreadsheets... but things just wouldn't work the tools that I was using to try and find the answers to my questions just wouldn't work for me... so I spent many nights and shed many tears sitting there sorting it all out.
Then there was the battle that I was waging in my mind about how much I hated all of it, how much I wished that I was doing something else, ANYTHING else. Why had I chosen accounting in the first place I HATED IT!! ARGH!!! ON the other hand I was arguing with myself trying to be more positive, trying to look at all of the ways that I was improving, trying to deal with the stress during the day with other people there who needed my help and at night when I was tired and just wanted to go home, especially when things were not working. Plus the fact that I really needed this job in the first place and how much I wanted to prove to the world that I would be a good worker and how I wanted to prove to myself as well that I could be competent... and how much I wanted to be able to know all of the things that I needed to know...
You know what, I never would have been able to learn as much as I have learned if I had had an easier time at this. I've found that to be true with everything in life... still, it is hard and I wish that I could just absorb all of the stuff I need to know and just be incredibly talented w/o the hard work... hmmm.... well, I guess I'll just have to survive the hard work... and maybe when I come out on the other side, even if I end up not wanting to do accounting in the future, I will be more talented for having faced and conquered the difficulties that I have had this past month/nay lifetime really... ;)
Hope you all are doing well...
SG
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Heart Passage
Each day, I get up and go to work and work hard. I try not to complain though I do sometimes because it is hard. My manager is busy and it is hard to be forced to hammer out difficult things without someone there to tell you you're headed in the right direction.
I'm sad in some ways, and I push myself in others. Sad that each day I go into work, to grasp at this stuff called "Accounting" to do it and do it well means that I have to call on the reserves of determination that I have built up over many years of being determined. As if, through my own force of will I can learn and conquer this beast that looms in the distance called ignorance. I suppose I fear the unknown because if I fail, if I make a mistake then that will be like stepping off the road to security and happiness and I'm very scared of a future where I just can't cut it.
On the other hand I haven't come to grips with where I want my future to be. It has always been planned with my husband by my side... well that's what I wanted, that's what I thought. Though I feared being with him as well. He betrayed me very early on in our marriage and I was never able to really let that go, to believe that he was sincere when he said that he loved me. Things were difficult in other areas as well, yet he was my husband. I loved him. I forgave him, or tried to and vowed to move forward. At some point though I completely lost faith in things working for us and I tried to leave him thinking there was someone else that was better. Yet I couldn't follow through with that, I came back and I tried again and things were starting to feel alright, things were starting to work and I could just see in him this limitless potential and I wanted so much for him to reach it and I wanted us to be together as a family and make it in this world. All of my planning, all of my hopes resided in this.
Then it was all ruined, in one desperate year of madness, betrayal and ultimate idiocy. Then is when I started to scream, then is when nothing that I have strived for in all of my life made sense anymore and I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to excel, it didn't matter anyway.
He was at my parents house tonight, it was my sons birthday on Wednesday so we held the party today. He brought his friends sons and refereed a game of hide and seek, laughing at how funny those kids were sneaking around, and my little daughter running away from the big kids. He's such a jerk, he wants me to take him back and with the passing of time tortures me because he hasn't taken the divorce education class for parents yet and so our divorce is stalled in the courts. After that, well, I shall have to see...
I'm sad in some ways, and I push myself in others. Sad that each day I go into work, to grasp at this stuff called "Accounting" to do it and do it well means that I have to call on the reserves of determination that I have built up over many years of being determined. As if, through my own force of will I can learn and conquer this beast that looms in the distance called ignorance. I suppose I fear the unknown because if I fail, if I make a mistake then that will be like stepping off the road to security and happiness and I'm very scared of a future where I just can't cut it.
On the other hand I haven't come to grips with where I want my future to be. It has always been planned with my husband by my side... well that's what I wanted, that's what I thought. Though I feared being with him as well. He betrayed me very early on in our marriage and I was never able to really let that go, to believe that he was sincere when he said that he loved me. Things were difficult in other areas as well, yet he was my husband. I loved him. I forgave him, or tried to and vowed to move forward. At some point though I completely lost faith in things working for us and I tried to leave him thinking there was someone else that was better. Yet I couldn't follow through with that, I came back and I tried again and things were starting to feel alright, things were starting to work and I could just see in him this limitless potential and I wanted so much for him to reach it and I wanted us to be together as a family and make it in this world. All of my planning, all of my hopes resided in this.
Then it was all ruined, in one desperate year of madness, betrayal and ultimate idiocy. Then is when I started to scream, then is when nothing that I have strived for in all of my life made sense anymore and I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to excel, it didn't matter anyway.
He was at my parents house tonight, it was my sons birthday on Wednesday so we held the party today. He brought his friends sons and refereed a game of hide and seek, laughing at how funny those kids were sneaking around, and my little daughter running away from the big kids. He's such a jerk, he wants me to take him back and with the passing of time tortures me because he hasn't taken the divorce education class for parents yet and so our divorce is stalled in the courts. After that, well, I shall have to see...
Thursday, September 9, 2010
I Love Fall!
There is so much beauty in my mountainous Utah home; early dawn, awakening morning sunshine filtering over emerald mountain peaks and valleys; azure skies and crisp clean air. Little birds like to greet each other and peep as they hop in the grass looking for their breakfast.
I love it when it is stormy as well, roiling dark clouds with intermittent rain and sunshine, the dark gloaming in the streets, the fresh smell in the air. Splendid!
Then the glorious fall! How crisp the day's, how refreshing! For some reason during the first week of school you can simply feel the change in the air, it is less intense, so much more relaxed than summer. There is still some uncomfortable warmth but it isn't like the scorching heat of Summer. Each day the tips of the green leafed trees slowly take on different hues and die away, until one day you realize that the leaves have fallen and the musty smell of mulching leaves permeates the air and then one day the air holds winters bite and the season has turned again.
There is just something about the fall, I love fall!
SG
I love it when it is stormy as well, roiling dark clouds with intermittent rain and sunshine, the dark gloaming in the streets, the fresh smell in the air. Splendid!
Then the glorious fall! How crisp the day's, how refreshing! For some reason during the first week of school you can simply feel the change in the air, it is less intense, so much more relaxed than summer. There is still some uncomfortable warmth but it isn't like the scorching heat of Summer. Each day the tips of the green leafed trees slowly take on different hues and die away, until one day you realize that the leaves have fallen and the musty smell of mulching leaves permeates the air and then one day the air holds winters bite and the season has turned again.
There is just something about the fall, I love fall!
SG
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