Seeking Inspiration

A couple of weeks ago I spent some time adding new bloggers to my twitter feed and daily reading list.  One has cancer, one's sister died, one is a recovering addict, one is a struggling single mom, one's husband is on deployment.  The list goes on.

As I thought about this the other day my initial reaction was - gee Amanda, you seem to be spending a lot of time reading about other's misfortunes.  And I contemplated stopping.  Was I looking for others who felt despair?  Was I comparing my struggles with their struggles?  Was I looking for a reason for my heart to ache? 

I really wasn't sure why I was spending so much time with these strangers and their "problems."  I even downloaded a book last night written by a man who lost his mother, wife and 4 year old daughter in a horrific car crash. 

But as I was reading through my list of current favorite blogs this morning I realized something.  These are not blogs about despair, or the depths of human sorrow, or raw pain  These are blogs about overcoming that despair and sorrow and pain.  These are blogs about digging deep into your soul and facing some of the hardest moments.  These are blogs about resiliency and hope and faith.  These women and men are putting themselves out there, exposing their most vulnerable moments and sharing little glimmers, little moments of truth, little moments of strength.

When I first lost my mom I was too overcome with grief to even hope to find glimmers of truth or strength.  I was too jaded to have hope or faith.  But now, now I'm searching.  The wounds are not as raw.  The grief isn't as palpable.  And I'm searching to connect.  To connect to others' journeys.  To see the good that has come out of grief and loss and pain.  To know that there is something beautiful that can blossom from devastation.

 Lately, I've been grappling with how to bring meaning to my mom's death.  How to honor her in my daily life.  How to not let her presence in my life, and now lack of presence fade into the past, become an "event" in my life.  I'm scared that by moving past the devastation, that all encompassing grief, that I'm moving past her.  And I struggle with finding a way to hold her in the present.  I don't have an answer for this.  I've done grief and despair for a long time.  But I don't know what comes next.  I don't know how to do the next phase (whatever that phase is).         

I think this is why I'm drawn to the lives behind these blogs.  I think this is why I keep seeking out others who have faced difficulty.  I need to know how they do it.  I need to see how they do it.  I need their inspiration And their moments of wisdom and truth are helping me navigate my way into whatever lies ahead.

A Moment of Clairty

Today I was driving back to my office and was overwhelemed by the beauty around me.  The clarity of the world.  The wonder of nature and spring and cherry blossoms and bright blue skies. 

And I realized something, I haven't felt this wonder about life in general in a very long time. 

I'm in awe of my kids and there are days that their sheer existence brings me joy I didn't know possible.

But that feeling of being one with the World -- of feeling present and grateful of that presence has alluded me for some time. 

Today it felt like I took off a pair of tinted sun glasses and for the first time all the colors came into focus.  It made me catch my breath and marvel in just how much beauty there is. 

And in that moment I gave thanks.  I gave thanks for my life, for my husband, for my babies, for my family and my friends.  I gave thanks for the cherry blossoms, and the warm sun and the blue sky.  I gave thanks for what I have and the ability to go after what I want.

I can't really explain it adequately but I felt whole and full and it was wonderful.  I smiled and I laughed and I inhaled deeply.

Things are coming into focus and I'm seeing the colors again, in all their wonderful vibrancy. 

Strong Like Bull

I'm working on a fun post with lots of past pics of the boys, but damned if I can get it lined up right.  I'll be soliciting Matt's technical expertise to find a way to make a pretty post with pictures.

So instead of sharing my boys in pictures today I am going to share something else with you.

If you knew my mom well, you knew she had this saying that she would use when she was facing something tough.  She'd use the same saying when I was struggling with something.  She would say "Amanda, you can do this (or I can do this) because you and I, we are strong like Bull."

It's one of the first things that comes to mind when someone asks me to describe my mom.

Strong. Like. Bull.

So when I came across Jen's blog a couple of days ago I was immediately moved to share that mantra with her.

She is brave.  She is strong.  She is a beautiful and honest writer.  She is inspiring.

I couldn't decide if I wanted to share her blog here because I worry about being all "wah wah wah Debbie Downer" but I've read her posts every day and I don't walk away crying from sadness but instead, I end up crying because what she says is so beautiful and truthful so full of grace and hope and everything I want to be.

So please take a few minutes and head on over to the Anderson Family Zoo.  Share a little love with Jen.  If you're feeling really generous offer some assistance.

I think you'll agree with me, Jen is, most definitely, strong like bull!

Faith, and God, and the Meaning of Life - Where do I Start?

One of the things I've really wanted to work on lately is my faith.

I read this post today.  She talks about always feeling carried by a higher being but not knowing how to help someone get there.  And I get that.

In my life, I had always felt carried, protected, loved, understood by something higher.  For me that something higher was understood through a Roman Catholic context but for right here, right now I'm just going to call it something higher.  Something external from myself and from this earthly world.  And this higher power carried me through a fair share of hardships, things that challenged me emotionally.  It was a rock I held onto when the rest of the World didn't make sense.

But then 2009 happened and that feeling of being carried disappeared.  I felt betrayed.  Hm, maybe worse.  I felt like maybe there was never anything there to begin with.  That maybe this feeling that I was carried, loved, protected and understood by a higher power was not grounded in any truth.  Because if there was something there and it really did understand me, how could it possibly take away my mom -- so young -- so quick.  How could it do that to me?  How could a higher power that truly knows me and understands me and wants to protect me and carry me hurt me so badly.

And so for the last few years I have been struggling.  Well maybe that's not exactly true because for a while I just gave up.  I didn't care.  How can you struggle when you don't believe?  But this is something I want to put back on the table.  I have babies and I feel like I owe it to them to figure out where my faith is.  One day soon they will be asking questions and I'll tell them I don't have all the answers, but I owe it to them to seek those answers because that is what I will tell them to do.

Still, I don't know how to go back.  Where do I begin to rebuild this  relationship?  How do I start?  It's like a really bad breakup and what was said and done is just too bad, too hard, to forget.  It lingers and the hurt lingers and it's like poison.  I feel like I'm on really shaky ground and I don't know how to get a foot hold.