myspokenheart

musings on life, love and laughter from my spoken heart to yours


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Forget Storage… throw that sh*t out!!!

“Yeah but you don’t really forget when you hide it. It’s just…in storage.”

A friend of mine said this to me a few days back and I just can’t seem to shake it. The words dig down so deeply, and resonate with such truth, at least for me they do. I suppose for them to make sense to you, you may need some background information. You see we were talking about past relationships, you know romantic/love relationships. Both of us share sordid pasts, and were discussing how those pasts have affected our relationships. I mentioned that before I had gotten married I had laid all my cards on the table, you know so I could start with a “clean” slate, this is something I am pretty sure I will never do again…

Why would some-one who professes to love you use your own experiences against you to cut so deeply? Why would they take your secrets, deep dark secrets, that you have entrusted them with as a sign of your love and trust for them and use them against you, as a means to control you? As we were discussing this some icky dark words filled with so much hurt, shame and pain came out of the dark recesses of my past… BAM! Like a slap in my face as fresh as the day they were first spewed at me. Once they came forth my heart bled and I cried.

That’s when I confessed that I have taken all the pain, all the hurtful abusive words and experiences wrapped them up and hidden them from view. Pushed it all aside in an attempt to forget about it. I am not really sure who I am trying to protect by hiding it, myself – my pride, my kids, possibly even my ex. And there came her words of wisdom…

“Yeah but you don’t really forget when you hide it. It’s just…in storage.”

In storage… I had to think about that. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was true. The funny thing about burying the past, you pretend it’s been dealt with, but it hasn’t been. Putting it in storage is a way of keeping it, but not necessarily using it. It’s been packed away, never really forgotten, certainly not let go of. But in order to truly move it on it has to be thrown away. Putting it in storage is like saving it just in case you may need it one day. You know that box of keepsakes that is kept in the closet, never opened, but never forgotten, and for some reason we just can’t seem to part with the stuff in the box. But why would I choose to keep painful, heartbreaking, bitter memories that crush my spirit? Perhaps deep down I believe it? Perhaps I feel I have to own it to protect myself from going there again? I am not really sure but I am exploring and trying to understand.

It’s amazing how we can convince ourselves we have dealt with something when in reality we just stored it to be dealt with some other day.


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Running away… or running to?

Istanbul, Turkey (photo credit: Turkey Welcomes You Facebook page)

Sometimes I want to runaway. I think that sounds horribly immature and perhaps a bit selfish, but some days it’s really how I feel. I just want to runaway…

Some days I feel the urge to run so bad, I just want to put on my shoes and literally run (if you knew me you’d understand how bizarre that is – I DO NOT run, walk yes, run no!). Or I could hop in my car and just drive, drive till I run out of road (well… that could work, except that I am currently vehicle-less). Really I just want to soar and see where the wind takes me. It is an overwhelming feeling in my chest, a need, and some days I feel like I just might burst.

I feel the need to clarify that it’s not because my life sucks. It’s not anything personal regarding the people in my life. Actually my life is pretty good, and I have people around me that I love so very much, and who love me in return. I have a decent job that nearly pays the bills and provides me and my kids with medical and dental benefits. Perhaps some days I am not necessarily happy, but I am certainly not miserable. I just want… more, I am not necessarily sure what I want more of, I just feel that I am destined for something other than this… for something a bit more significant… something more.

I just know that there’s this big old world out there, and I feel it calling to me, taunting me, seducing me. I want to see it, experience what life has to offer. I want to take a big bite out of it, like a juicy ripe nectarine. You know when you take that first bite, you feel your teeth rupture the skin and the sweetness of the fruit explodes in your mouth, and the juices drip off your chin and run down your arm. Well I want life to be like that. I think we should experience little moments of ecstasy every day. I want to see places I have only dreamed about. I want to feel foreign winds upon my skin. I want to feel new languages form on my tongue. I want to smell the scents of distant lands, the spices of the street markets, and wet soil and dust. To see the sites, take in the colors, hear the sounds, dance to the music.

I have these ridiculous romantic notions in my head, perhaps I have watched one too many movies, or read one too many books, or one too many blogs. But I truly feel that this burning need within can only be relieved through leaving everything I know, my comfort, my securities behind and leaping into the unknown.

I have started over a few times in my life and I know how scary, yet exhilarating a fresh start can be. It’s hard work, yet it’s so rewarding. There is something to be said about closing our eyes and stepping off the cliff into the unknown.

Just maybe it isn’t running away after all… maybe it’s running to? Maybe…


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“Who are you?” – my wake up call

“When you stop doing things for fun and passion, you stop living and you start merely existing.”  ~ Marc and Angel (marcandangel.com)

That pretty much describes the rut I had been in for so long I couldn’t even really remember doing things for fun and passion. Hhhmmm – fun, can some-one remind me what that is exactly? And don’t get me started on passion… I had completely forgotten what my passions even were, never mind being able to live for them. It has been a long road to self discovery and acceptance. One I am still walking and will likely walk till I die (and I am ok with that as long as I keep moving forward).

One morning a few years back I found myself  looking at my face far too closely in the mirror, as I leaned right in I asked the stranger I was staring so intently at, “who are you?” That was the day I realized I had lost my focus. I wasn’t living my life with joy, heck I wasn’t even really living at all. I was just going through the motions to get myself through each day, swallowing the lie of ‘tomorrow’ – that magical day that never comes where everything will be better, happier, easier, blah, blah, blah. I was pushing down the feelings of regret, panic, and resentment, as I realized that I knew what each day held – nothing but emptiness. I stood there like an idiot staring at myself as I came to terms with the fact that I knew what my children liked and didn’t like, what my then husband liked and didn’t like… but I didn’t have a clue what I liked, or what I wanted… yet I was realizing what I didn’t like and what I didn’t want. I didn’t like the way I was feeling and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life merely existing with no passion, no desire, no energy, no feelings, no nothing… just a big list of nos.

That was the day I began to wake up. The day I realized I needed to rediscover myself and find MY passion, I needed, no wanted to start living. And here I am today still trying to figure it out, but I am happier, I do have fun, and I am working on my passions, first finding them – what makes me excited? What makes me feel? And now that I am recognizing what they are I have to take the steps to start doing them (like starting this blog), instead of listening to my lame excuses (no-one will care, there isn’t enough time in the day, maybe after I clean up the house, etc). One step at a time, right? But I can  honestly say, for the first time in so long, that I can actually see glimpses of the road ahead of me. The question “where do you see yourself in 1, 3 or even 5 years?” doesn’t leave me blank and panicky any more. The road may still be blurry but it’s there in front of me. All I have to do is keep moving forward, and that makes me pretty happy! 🙂

Smiles for the future from My Spoken Heart to yours, xoxo