I have a fear of being judged. I'm pretty sure we all do. I wasn't aware of how much this fear was holding me back, keeping me from opening up. This fear based thinking makes me reactionary. When shane and i argue (which we do often) i couldn't hear what he was saying because my reaction was always on the defensive. Nothing revolutionary, but a surprise to me.
Part of this fear in me is because i have been judged over and over for the past several months. There is a person in this world, whom i have never met, who has two blogs and a twitter account and probably other outlets that are all focused on a deep hatred for me.
Every single thing i put out on the internet is judged in immediate stinging words. Over the months i have kept telling myself don't look, don't read, don't participate. But, i just couldn't stop.
I never acknowledged or engaged in any way, but would sit up at night wondering why. Why is this person doing this, and why is it hurting me so much.
And then i realized i don't like this feeling of being judged. I don't like this. This is taking my energy away from where it should be, it is creating a fear in me that doesn't need to be there. The people who love me don't judge me. This has nothing to do with me. This is only a reflection on this other person and their own fears. The words they are saying are more about them than anything to do with me.
And so? And so i just don't care anymore. I'm going to continue writing and reading and living my life with a great family, i will not be put into some self-imposed hiatus because of it. Instead, i'm moving on, letting go and letting that hatred fade away. I'm going to not let this fear hold me back anymore.
Summer is drawing to a close. The air has a crispness that wasn't there just a week ago.
Summer isn't my favourite time of year anymore. Being the entertainment director to four children who would watch TV all day if left to their own devices is infuriating and futile. Work is in full swing, wealthy cottagers filling the restaurant to capacity every night. Relentless heatwaves that make training for the half marathon painful and nearly impossible.
That being said, there is the little sadness that the beginning of school brings. Another year older, another holiday gone with more left unchecked on the list of "things to do this summer" than things crossed out with the black felt pen.
It's been one year since my the house fire. The day that sits up there in the 20 worst things that have happened. And it is true that in the end i have a safer, prettier home. That doesn't really change the trauma that stays with you after an event like that. It's one of those life events that most people can't relate to.
As far as my love life goes, it goes. It goes well, it goes not so well. It is up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right. Sunshine and lollipops.
It has been about five months since i started running. My goal used to be to just finish the half marathon on October 10th. Now i want to do it in under 2 1/2 hours. I have learned about things like pace and training. I know my body way better now and i understand just how hard i can push it, how much pain i can take and in return my body is turning into something i don't recognize – strong and lean and muscular. This running thing? Running has changed me. It helps me deal with every other aspect of my life with confidence and strength and a whole lot less fear.
I got an email this morning that my half marathon is in 52 days. I felt a little overwhelmed, perhaps a little nervous. I've had the flu for a few days and i hurt my hip on the plane home from New York.
I went to physio the other day and after some shaking and yanking and pushing and pulling everything felt back in line. Right. I walked out without a limp and the hint of a spring in my step. I went for an awesome run that evening (14k!) and felt great when shane picked me up.
It all kind of went downhill from there. After the short car ride home i went to get out of the car and kachump, my joint had slipped back into the very wrong place. I iced and i moaned. I hate being hurt, not in a wimpy way, but in a really grumpy way. I sent everyone to bed as they had all had the flu and i was on barf watch for the evening.
I started watching "She's Having A Baby" and feeling a little melancholy for those old days and how things aren't really as they are in movies or even as they seem. That rushing gurgling sound started up deep down inside me. That "oh no!" moment. That moment you know you and the toilet are going to become good friends over the next 24 hours.
So, now i'm a day and a half past that moment and starting to feel a little better. But, a little worse too. My hip (SI Joint) is definitely not right and i'm going to have to go back to physio and it's not looking like a quick fix thing.
I have 52 days to be healthy and ready and today i'm just angry at my body for not letting me do what i really want to do. I want to run. I want to run until i disappear. I want to run until i catch up with myself. I want to run until i collapse in your arms.
We were in the car happily singing and chatting, my oldest daughter asked me "do you believe in god?"
And just like that my world collapsed for a minute.
I want to believe in god, i want to think that i will get to spend the rest of time knowing what will happen. Watch my children from some heavenly place. See them grow old and succeed and fail. Fuck it all up and figure it out again. Fall in and out of love. And love until they bleed.
But i won't. And that hurts more than any words could do justice to.
I saw death. Perhaps one could argue that i didn't see death, i just saw complete unconsciousness. But, that's not true. I saw the end and it was nothing. There was no regret or longing. No rush of memories or flood of guilt. It was nothing. It was gone. For a split second my world was black and there wasn't a single thought, a single feeling in my body.
And that is the closest i will ever come to a religious experience – the complete absence of anything.
And i tell my daughter "no, i don't."
