Irrational Fears; Good Tears

I read a story today about a firefighter that had fought one of the many fires around West Texas this week. The dry, windy conditions are awful for the fires getting out of control. Worse news is that some have been intentionally set. Elias Jacquez and fellow firefighters got caught in one of the blazes.  He was severely burned as told in this story by our local NBC affiliate.


In March our Leadership Lubbock class visited the city's Fire Department where I was went into a room full of smoke to find out first hand the value of heat-seeking equipment firefighters can use to find victims inside burning buildings. My two fears of enclosed spaces and dying in a fire combined into one terrifying moment for me that took the rest of the day to overcome. The smoke created by a smoke machine filled the room so I couldn't see anything or anyone, and the elephant of claustrophobia came in and sat on my chest. Then the panic of that brought on the extremely irrational thought of there being a real fire, real danger. My classmates were all around and I think I hid my panic well, but by internalizing it, I dwelt on it for hours into the night.


Long before being a member of the current Leadership Lubbock class and visiting the Timothy Harner Burn Center at University Medical Center (UMC) here in Lubbock, I knew about this valuable community asset as an employee of the advertising agency that handled awareness for UMC when their new facilities opened in 1997. 


Reading about Elias Jacquez today reminded me of visiting UMC's Harnar Burn Center in December and my phobias closing in on me last month. But it wasn't just the fire or Elias getting burned that touched me. It was what his wife said:  "I hope and pray to Jesus that he will give him the opportunity to be back out there." She said she is sure her husband would do it all over again. It blows my mind away to the point of tears to see this kind of courage. I think I'm tough by facing down irrational fears under controlled conditions. 


That all brings to mind why I love living here, even so far away from my own family, and why I love the opportunity of the Chamber's Leadership Lubbock class: it is the pervasive sense of community in West Texas that makes people not just survive here, but thrive here. From the hero firefighter and his courageous wife to leaders that work hard developing valuable assets for our region, I am honored to call them neighbors. 


I've heard a theory that the sense of community might be linked to the pioneering spirit of the first people of this area, knowing they could only survive this harsh place together. I feel that and it doesn't make me feel claustrophobic one bit.

Dagger's Rest

You thrust your dagger through me and smiled as I bled. 
One twist added more pain to my heart as it shred.
Looking past my green eyes, you watched me swallow tears.
In our next sweeping glances, we mirrored deep fears. 


Even only for a short while, reprieve at last
From the exquisite pleasure in that voice of cut glass.
Unforbidden feelings usually left unexpressed,
Thanks for this desperate day of a dagger's rest.

Rutabagas

I have 3 blogs. This post from mentalfloss.com reminded me how I came about the name for one of them. The blog itself is insignificant; full of postings of poems on emotions I seldom express anywhere else. But, I used something of "How to write a manifesto" to come up with its name and first post. 

I needed a place to express some very untoward emotions I was experiencing and some tough times I was going through. "Life handing me lemons" almost fit but not perfectly. There are all kinds of things everyone can come up with about what to do when life hands you lemons: make lemonade, add vodka and stir or make orange juice and wonder how you did it. Lemons lend itself to the connotation of being sour about something and I was far from it. I was lost and confused but not angry about it.

So what had life handed me? Something not easily digestible so lemons were out. I love lemons. Determining it must be a vegetable was easy because sweetness was not what I judged these feelings to hold. I like every vegetable I've ever eaten except one. It's bitterness is not welcomed. Rutabagas. Even as the written word, it is unappealing as it starts with "rut" and ends with "gas." Simply perfect.

But over time, my confusion has subsided. Acceptance and appreciation has set in. As though I have developed a palate for the ugly root, the ugly truth of my emotions is no longer distasteful.  

I will continue to post at Rutabagas because I need the outlet. The recipes I've found to temper what life has handed me have turned out to be more delicious than I could have imagined. Time to cook some more!

To Love Unselfishly

I received this note from myself today I sent some time ago through FutureMe.Org - 

You can love without reciprocation. 

Your happiness is his happiness and that is all that matters. He is happy and do everything in your power to make it stay that way. You are right in doing this. You love completely by doing this. You are happy. You are loved. 

Give him that gift.

It is my mantra because I believe true love is possible only without selfishness. Check your motives of why you love someone. Isn't it because of how they make you feel, what kind of person you are around them and what they do for you? That can be love, but obviously it comes at the price of another person's willingness to give or provide those things to you. True love stands alone, without any influence. Do you feel it?

Welcome the Storm

   Brutal is not the exact, correct word to describe the wind yesterday in West Texas, but it was. It continued to howl past midnight because it blew in through my windows, across my pillow and formed a tornado in my dreams. 
   Everywhere I turned, in the building made of glass, I could see the tornado approaching. Frantic, there was no way out as I considered digging through the stone floor with my nails. Thinking if I turned around one more time, I could find a solution, a hand grabbed me.  Your long fingers encircled my wrist and I screamed "no." You pulled me through a door and shut the heavy steel to hide the storm. Quietly I said again, "no."
   "The storm is coming," you insisted while burning their meaning into my eyes with your own. With my wrists bound by your hands, I touched your ear with my lips. A roar in my ears was deafening, but I whispered, "I know this music. This is my dance."  You released me and I ran for the door to open it just in time.
   The storm still blows. Blue sky and sunshine are the lies. Come dance with me.

Yet Another Epiphany

After reading blog after blog about love this week I was tempted to write an antithesis to all the mush. One blog was so full of what I thought was gushy, mushy baloney had I encountered the blogger on the day of reading it, I would have actually picked a fight. But, I'm glad things didn't happen that way. I managed to wait out my judgement, my cynicism and derisive nature until I was almost asleep the next night when it hit me.

In just a couple of the blog's sentences, the writer assumed something that I didn't think at first could be possible: you can look past the person you're in love with and see them as just another human being or friend. I thought it was not possible if the feelings of love are still intact, especially if something has gone wrong in the relationship. I was planning to track down the blogger and give him a piece of my mind. 

An easy fall to sleep was most deserving after a long day on Tuesday but not before a bolt from my subconscious shocked me upright. Yes, I was to be damned because the blogger was right! I've lived the rest of the week quietly assuaging my shame and here's why:

Last week marked twenty years of a relationship with my husband; good years, bad years and now it seems years I can't remember because they flew by so very quickly. But I can unequivocally state that I am still with my husband after the bad times because of my ability to look at him and see him as a friend, a man and fellow human being. In doing so, I can remove my hurt feelings, disappointment or anger from the viewpoint. Whenever I set aside my ego to help my friend deal with an issue, we both win.  

My spouse is not my caregiver nor provider, unless I fall to injury or sickness. I am not his legacy factory here to make sure his namesake is carried forward to the next generations. He is my confidant, my best friend, my lover and life partner. I do not believe in absolutes of love and think that there are many things that have and will cause our relationship to change. We deal with those influences as they come up. 

After twenty years, one thing is definite: our relationship has changed as we have gone through life's changes. We are two individuals that choose each other again every day, year after year. Yes, there are days I look at him and think, "am I sure?" I'm sure today and that's all that matters. 

What is amazing about what we have together is that he feels and reacts the same way regarding the core aspects of our relationship. Neither of us are perfect. We have both gotten things wrong as we go through life. We have similarities and differences that we have learned to use to our mutual advantage. We can have whole conversations with a single glance at each other. Oh, and well, it's not ever to be taken for granted that great sex can facilitate great communication and understanding. Thank you, endorphins.

So, for what appeared at first glance as another sickly sweet blog about love turned out to provide a better understanding of my own love. I'm a little dismayed I didn't figure it out for myself but that's just my ego talking. So what is your spouse to you?  A helpmate or a hindrance? A friend or just another lover? A partner or a pin number to a bank account? I hope you have in your spouse exactly what you want because life is too damned short for anything else.

Today's Dance

Waking to the sound of rain is the perfect start of any day. Many disagree with me, even those that spend most of their time indoors. I love the rain no matter my plans and more especially if I am to be outdoors. An additional challenge to overcome is not automatic ruination of the day.

I have a plaque on a file drawer in my office. It says, "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass... It's about learning to dance in the rain." It greeted me this morning as a reminder and a promise. 

I'm not going to wait for anyone to accept, deny or break me. I will make it though the storm of the hour, day or week by learning and taking the problem in stride like a dance. I love learning so why would I wait for a rescue, a directive or a confrontation. None of those are my game. I'm straightforward, insistent and real. Dancing is celebratory and I took every step with determination and pride today. I could hear music get louder as the solution materialized and the crescendo was the smile on my face of a job well done.

Did it really rain today?

No, but there was a storm. And, I danced.   

I danced with my husband, son, co-workers and friends. I lived the day to what I could make it, soaked with raindrops, stumbling over my feet and moving to the beat of my own music. Yes, that's what life is suppose to be every day.