"It's In My Blood.."

So maybe we're not so different after all. Maybe the walls and layers and words are all just a facade. They are the mirrors of pain and anger at each other.. with ourselves. We seem to be closer than what we appear, closer than all the distance and silence and unforgiven tears have all lead us to believe.

" Whenever you feel like criticizing any one... just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had..." - F. S. Fitzgerald "The Great Gatsby"

I've been asked so many times where I've learned this obsession of travel, where my adventurous love affair originated. Who taught me to live on the wings of a free spirit? I simply replied, "I don't know. No one. It must be in my blood"...

Little did I realize the truth with which I speak.

She wanted to be a writer. She had dreams once upon a moon-lit night. Those were the days she had the world at her fingertips.. and she wrote words and sentences that spoke of truer days, that promised of a better life to come... a life that died with her worth and childhood ideals. She never had the ability to see through those dark nights, to hold her dream as tightly as she held her own head when she'd cry at night.

Turns out my blood runs truer with their own beating essence than my own alone, these women of my life. The breath they exhaled imprinted on my very existence, my "individuality" seems to be a little more of a ... commonality. My Grandmother's biggest regret was wondering "what could have been"... which also happens to be the biggest push for my life and the strength behind my hardest decisions. My love of music and books, my strength of character, my stubbornness ... all commonalities. I put school as the most important thing in my life; going to school was my savior, my pride and joy, the thing that would bring me the life I've always knew was mine. My grandmother never had the opportunity to feel the weight and the significance of a degree or diploma in her hands... and she always regretted it. She always wondered what would have been if she "would have only...". Now I realize the strength that carried my resolve to attain my degree came from whispers not so distant.

So I wasn't alone after all. We're not so different, us women. We hop and skip through each others lives, hurting each other on the outside and loving each other deeply in the shadows of our silences.

When I heard she wanted to be a writer, it was like all the walls came crashing down in an instant. She's not "her", she's me. I am her. We are part of each other, and we continue to carry each other through the dead silence of our stillness. There is no movement, no rushing towards each other in some strong resolve to embrace each other through our differences. But we hold each other still. We hold our memories, our differences, and our loves.. of each other.. of ourselves.

I don't know what happened when they lost it... those possibilities of their youth.. but in an instant the dreams were shut out, left in dark endings and broken promises. So I carry on for all of us. I carry the vehicle of beautiful dreams and youth and possibilities realized. I write for my Mom tonight. I travel for my Grandmother. I live for Me. She lives in Me. I live because of Her. We carry on within.

Sweet Goodbyes

The rubber soles of my shoes pound the nylon track repeatedly. Boom boom boom boom, faster and faster I run. Below me the white blur of the treadmill brand slides past my feet while the motor hums quietly. I stare endlessly as the smudge of letters passes by over and over again. I start to well up in tears as my exhaustion denies my eyes to blink.

I can’t help but think, as my feet strike the ground, of the passage of time. The white blur below me, just like time, moves faster and faster right before my eyes.

Life is very surreal right now. I feel like one of those characters in a movie; standing on the street corner unmoving, while the cars and people around them are a streak of color, moving in hyper drive. I feel like I’m dreaming. 2 ½ weeks. I leave in a couple weeks. Wait, hold on. Ok let me breathe a sec… HEY! Hold on! Wait!

I still love you, Chicago.

I love everything about you. My past three years here have felt like a lifetime. This is the place where I finally felt like I was HOME. This is the place where I grew up, became the woman I am today. This is the city where all my dreams have come true. I’ve expanded and stretched and grown beyond my own recognition. I’ve conquered fears, I’ve danced til the sun peaked over Lake Michigan, I’ve made true friends and lost them all at once. This is the reason I went to college. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. I love it here.

I no longer own a car. In the mornings I get to join the rest of my city in our moves to “point B”. Instead of leaving my highrise in my car and driving straight to work, I walk the city streets and catch busses and cabs and ride the EL. I like it. I put my headphones on and soak in the beating energy of the throngs of people on Michigan Avenue, the blue collars on the Blue Line EL, the families in my neighborhood walking their dogs. I’m in it, I’m more a part of it now. It’s perfect timing; I’m throwing myself into this city for the last couple weeks that I have it.

I can’t believe I’m already moving out of Chicago. It’s difficult to leave a life that you love. But I smile in saying this, because as much as I love my home here…

It would have never been enough.

Not until I live this magnificent aspiration that I’ve held so close for so long will I ever be able to settle anywhere. But I sure am going to miss it here.

I’m going to miss my majestic view of the city and Lake Michigan, watching fireworks from my windows every Wednesday and Saturday, and the serenity of falling asleep in my peaceful apartment. I’m going to miss driving 2-4 hours to get to my family, even more – I’m going to miss seeing/calling my family any time I want. I’m going to miss my dear and amazing friends.

What I have to remember though, is that this all will be right here, waiting for me. I can have this life again. This all is not a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. My world trip however … is. And the thought of the adventures that lie ahead of me… is beyond words. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I will always have Chicago. I will always have home. Now is the time to soar.

“For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been.. and there you will long to return..” -Leonardo Da Vinci


So, Dear Chicago, until we meet again my friend, you will always be my pride and joy. Dear Sweet Home of mine, until I see you once again.

A Motherless Figures Part II

A Motherless Figures Part II

“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten…

… we belong to eachother…”
• Mother Teresa

Reading my words from 5 years ago, I can’t help but feel my heart break a little. I can still see her; the scared and scarred young girl that I used to be. Page after page I read on of heart break and rejection, page after page of prayers and hopes of a new life to come; a life filled with freedom and love and adventure. It is a life that every morning I open my eyes now and thank God for. A life that as a strong young woman I am proud to say is mine. Teardrop after teardrop, I’ve made this life of mine, and every single teardrop was worth the freedom I breathe now.

I can’t help but ponder though, after remembering my past life, did those dark days affect me? Do those scars dent my daily life with coping mechanisms? Issues? Fears? Surely I couldn’t make it out of that sort of life battle without some sort of war wounds. I can’t help but wonder… like Carrie Bradshaw asks in relation to fathers,

Does a mother figure.. figure?

There isn’t much out there in the way of research of the psychological effects of motherless women, emotionally and/or physically distant mothers. I did find one source of information from missingmother.com;

“Motherless women tend to be non-traditional, original thinkers, purpose-driven, compassionate, sensitive, intuitive and creative. Just some famous women who grew up without mothers: The Sisters Bronte, George Eliot, Marie Curie, Eleanor Roosevelt, Virginia Woolf, Marilyn Monroe, Princess Diana, Maya Angelou, Carol Burnett, Jane Fonda, Liza Minelli, Madonna, Rosie O'Donnell, and Oprah Winfrey. This list does not include women who were emotionally abandoned, since this condition is not as obvious to the world.”

Many Disney characters were also motherless; Ariel, Bell, Cinderella, Princess Jasmine, etc. The typical motherless heroine is one who is adventurous, and free spirited.. someone who made their own rules from lack of a role model and maybe had a little more freedom to do so with no “mother hen” looking out for them.

Most of the slightly more negative research I have found is that the motherless grow up without an obvious role model, no idea of attachment, they are more “harsh” and “tough”.. with a “get over it” mentality. They have no base security or feeling of home/belonging, and almost more masculine in their abilities; more of what I can DO than who I AM. They sometimes demonstrate a fear of abandonment and have a strong desire to prove.


Reading this I felt instantly reassured. This is ME!! Some of those qualities are strong parts of who I am; the good, the bad, and the ugly. And those are my people! It explains so much, I feel like I have found where I belong, and WHY. I understand a little now why I’m so non-conformist and unconventional. All because in my past I learned to live by my own rules (still do), I learned to never accept “no” for an answer, and I learned to fight a little harder a little longer. I found poetry in my life and life in my days. I’m a fighter, because I’ve had to be. And now my life is a wide tapestry of poetry.

This journal isn’t meant to bad-mouth my mother. It’s also not a victimized account of why I had it “rough”. Everyone has/is dealing with their own demons. But I am living without her, and have been for a long time. Even when she was around, she wasn’t around, and I just knew there had to be traits within me because of my life’s storms. I just wanted to be aware.

I have found peace with my mother, and I can say that I do look upon this with “bright eyes” now that I’ve moved above and beyond. To her credit, my mother also gave me the greatest gift of my life…

To make a very long story short, my first couple years of college were the life and death of me. Despite the chaos of full time schooling and work, being dis-fellowshiped from the only religion I’ve ever really known, and my rapidly fading health,… I was happy. Actually, I was miserable but I had a peace in my heart because I was doing the ONE thing that would bring me the life of my dreams and SAVE me;

I was going to school.

Unfortunately, going to school wasn’t easy for me. With all the different stresses I had bearing down on me, my immune system couldn’t keep up. I was sick.. and all the time. We didn’t know what was wrong with me, and test results kept coming back negative. I was underweight and malnourished. Not being able to help me herself, my Mom did the only thing she could;

She gave me my Grandparents.

One night changed everything, and New Years 2005 I moved in with the two people who are now my best friends. It wasn’t always easy, but my entire life changed. I learned to love and be loved in return, I learned what family and support felt like, and I completely flourished. I gained 15 pounds, I gained my health back, and I gained my family.

And that has made all the difference.

We all just need someone to believe in us.

Because of that love, I have learned to fly. I am living all my childhood dreams and almost daily cry tears of happiness because I have everything I’ve ever wanted. I couldn’t ask for more. And this past Mother’s Day, I realized that I have a mother figure after all.. my grandmother.

So I guess being motherless figures after all. Because of my apparent lack,

I have gained the entire world.

A Motherless Figures

A Diary I wrote from January 2005

“To My Grief”

I have tried to let it go
I have tried to move on,
Release the grip,
Forgive..

Many affirmations later, I am still breathless with the pain.
And so we talked
I spoke softer words,
so the harsher ones wouldn’t have room.

I soared beyond my maturity,
and apologized for words unspoken

I felt her deep anger,
And she listened to my tears

There was a letting go,
A certain sorrow beyond our ability to understand

There is no capacity to control these sad circumstances
And a frustration that must be released

The loneliness has multiplied
I feel even more now earth’s gravity clinging to me;
My feet unable to lift,
And move away from this place.

“I don’t know,” she says quietly, “if these words sounds hollow..
but I do love you, Jill”

At that moment, I released my breath
And exhaled my rejection.

I cried for all the things she’s said,
And all the things she never will

I keep saying to myself; “I must somehow release the grip.
I must somehow grieve my loss.
I must somehow move away from this place..”

Blaming words,
Harsh confrontations were thrown at me.
She is angry, for reasons that do not touch me.
I stood tall,
And protected myself from her blows.
“Do not be angry with me.
Do not be angry with me for that..”

I am growing up.
I will someday turn around with bright eyes and realize;
I have released the grip. I have accepted my loss and moved on from this place.

So here, have my tears.
And save yourself from the doom I will obviously inflict by your association with me.

They say time heals all wounds.
Dear God.. I hope so.

Until then,
I will “cope”
And say affirmations
And “forgive”

Until I can breathe again…





…. To be continued…

A Time for Mourning

How easy it is to place the whole of our hearts so completely in another person’s hands. How neglectful and sad to pour our souls into another’s that’s so steeped in its own sadness that it cannot help but to drown our soul in its own desperation for oxygen.

She reaches for his hand, but he isn’t there. His eyes speak of sadness, his trembling hands crumble at her touch. He caves in on himself in his sickness; he has lost the bottom of his boat, lost the life in his days. The liquid calms the teardrops, the burn coats the numbing guilt.

What can you do now? It seems that giving up is the best way for everyone. Lets all just go to bed, turn out the lights. Shhhh, don’t bother with the details. Hush now sweet one, best not to talk now, Daddy is sleeping. Unfortunately, giving up leaves a deafening silence that shatters any peace you had any hope of. The quiet hush of pain rushes through your veins like a drug, your eyes get heavy. Shhh, lets all just go to bed. Do not reach now for daddy, daddy isn’t there.

She pushes forward, shoving past the muddled mess and shattered pieces. She holds her pain like a jagged thorn, and looks the other way as it embeds itself deeper into her memories. Twisted weeds pull and tug at her limbs in a fierce desperation for her to stop. Slippery mud and stones catch her balance as she tumbles forward. Instinctively she knows the path is harsh, but she also knows that healing waves are on the other side of that dark night. Keep going sweet one, your ocean of serenity is humming sweet tunes just on that other side.

Running, running faster as the cool night air sweeps across her face, she tastes a freedom of brighter days and a freer existence. Over time she will rip away that shroud of secrecy, that veil of aching grief. The veil that gave her comfort through so many years of confusion is also the veil that hid her beauty and fierce strength, the demon that suffocated the radiance of her divinity.

Hold tight dear one, don’t give up, never let go. You may be in the heart of that dark forest of grief, but know that there are guardians, keepers of our souls that are determined and steadfast in support of you. Take a deep breath and keep pushing through. Don’t listen to those voices that pull at you to stop, those tangled weeds of doubt and uncertainty. You may not know where the path may lead, where the direction of your determination will guide you, but in following your heart you are following your divinity to its’ very foundation. You will reach a point, you will look up and see a clearing in the shroud of that thick forest covering, and you will SEE. This is where healing and peace will permeate the very oxygen you breathe.

Keep fighting dear one, the sun shines on even when the night takes over. Keep pushing through your teardrops and tender ache, and have patience. This is the year. This is the year you taste the sacred light of the stars. This is the year you illuminate your darkness.

I love you.

Let go and Fall..

I’m standing at the edge of this cliff, my toes wrap the cold curves of the stones and rocks beneath them. The wind wraps and howls around my body, the salty ocean air awakens my senses and reminds me how far I’ve come and how close I really am.


How can I explain what I am feeling now? I’m desperate to put my world into words, and hopelessly fail every time.

The misty rain coats the outside of my windows tonight. The Sears Tower is whittled down into a nub as the surrounding clouds take over the city and all it’s glory. The sights and sounds are muffled in the deep trenching rain and wind. Everything is quieted in the overwhelming noise of raindrops coating the steal and cement of the city. Everything is quiet; like my whole life.. moving in slow motion.

I can tell you that one emotion I am feeling tonight would be peace. .. and pride. I am so proud of myself. There are times in everyone’s life where you are faced with something so incredibly scary and you just KNOW that the only direction you can move in is .. forward. You can’t look back, and you can’t stop. You know that despite the fear of the unknown, there are fireworks in that black night. After living through multiple victories, I now know that above all else, I can believe in myself. No matter what happens, I will take care of myself, and I will be brave when I need to be. I’ve shocked myself lately by responding to a question with a shrug and a “I’ll figure it out”. Excuse me?? I would have NEVER said that even a year ago. This is a place where faith leads you; a place where you can trust and lean upon yourself, a place of deep peace in who you are and the life you have chosen to live. It really is a lovely place to reside in.

Through living my dreams of going to college, surviving dental hygiene school and boards, moving away from Holland and moving to and living successfully in Chicago, I have earned the titles of “faith in myself” and “strength”. All these dreams were right, all were known by my intuition, all were hard, and ALL were scary. Being scared is not an unknown or an unfamiliar territory. This by far is the biggest and scariest dream, but also the most fascinating and exciting and life changing. The degree of passion sometimes is followed by the same extreme degree of fear. That’s when you know that it will be and is already.. WORTH IT. I have surrendered. The confusion disappeared as soon as the questions fell away. I have accepted the grace of my angels and the teardrops of the demons that used to haunt me at night.

My whole world is about to change. Everything that I’ve worked so hard for is disappearing and appearing at the same time. One chapter ends as another begins. All the comforts that I relish in are fading into nothing; my job, my car, my family, my savings… my home. It’s all about to disappear, and all I’ll have is .. myself. It’ll be me.. and the world. No buffer, no apparent luxuries.. except time. All I’ll have is time.

I’m definitely scared. I have no idea what lies ahead of me. And there is no way to prepare, no way to know what to expect, no shoulder to cry on, no hand to hold. I have no idea what to expect of MYSELF. Will I charge each day and meet it with confidence? Will I cry myself to sleep in the beginning? Will I stay until each country physically kicks me out? Or will I be ready to go home after 6 months? How will my body react? Will I get sick? Will my stomach recognize or process the extreme change in food and temperature? There is no other option anymore but to follow my Love, to let go, and to fall. I keep searching for security in another’s eyes, something that will bring me comfort in knowing I am not alone and that I will be safe. But this isn’t that sort of path that I’m following. This isn’t about safe and secure. I’ve had that, I have that now.. yet I find all I crave is the adventure.

So fall I will; I will collide fully into the depths of everything I am and morph into completely new dimensions. I will never be the same. Nothing will ever be the same. I’ve prayed and now it is time; time to let myself live this life that I have fought so hard for. It is time to fly

Thank God for CrAzY dreams....

Electricity is beating through my veins. My arms are in the air, my voice carries in song, I am dancing around my apartment. I have my ticket. I have my ticket that will fly me around the world. And the most exciting part of it all is that now I am also going to Egypt.. a place I have never even considered before. This fact brings me great comfort in my character, because when offered a chance of a lifetime, to stay in Egypt for a mere $40 more, not only did I take it, I took it with grand excitement and eagerness. I educated myself on safety for a whole 5 minutes, and then didn’t waste a second in calling him back with a holy, ”yes!!!!!” This process brings me comfort in my natural reaction, knowing that this adventure has and will continue to be more than I could ever imagine. This of course, comes to no surprise to me, I have always known this.

I call different friends; “I’m going to Egypt, I’m going to Egypt, HOLY CRAP I’M GOING TO EGYPT!!! Do you know where that is!?!?! It's in AFRICA!!” I felt drunk and dizzy in my excitement. I was then met with a quieted and calm, “cool”.

..

Of course this is the reaction. This is not their trip. They do not see the difference between Cambodia and Africa (Sorry, I am quoting someone here). And how could I expect any different? I was looking for a fever that would match my own, and was met with a cool indifference. And this is ok, this is another silent lesson and reminder. This is not their trip. This is mine. This is my sacred journey. I will be seeing these things on my own; I need to remember that no one will ever understand. I need to hold this reminder dearly and not be affected when my passionate love affair is met with indifference. This might take me a while.

I came across a quote that struck me deeply:

“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” – Mark Jenkins

I read this, chills running down my body, and I start to cry. I don’t well up in tears like I usually do when something touches my heart; I start balling. Then, with my head in my hands, body trembling and tears forcing themselves out of the crevices of my fingers, I cry even harder. Years of prayers and words and dreams whispered quietly all violently flood my memory; “please help me” “don’t let me let go of this” “help me find my way” “ Lord let me fly” “let me fly” “give me the grace to see past this fear” … the same prayers over and over again for years. I see myself as a 17 year old dreaming about living abroad, then again as a 20 year old wanting start a dental hygiene movement in Greece, and then as a 23 year old dreaming of partying on the shores of Australia. I see all of my younger selves that prayed and desperately held on to this fate that seemed more like a fantasy then a reality. I hold these memories and cry with gratefulness. This is more than a dream to me. I don’t know if I will ever be able to understand or help anyone else understand what this means to me. I am so happy in crying these tears that I start to laugh. My brain, sitting back and watching this all, sends some warning messages to me that I might actually be going crazy. I laugh even harder. Today.. today is a good day. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I tried, and I didn’t give up, and now I am going. Life is a grand adventure, and I intend on living it.

I can hear inside me, somewhere deep inside me, there is an ecstatic young girl kicking up her feet with a triumphant fist in the air exclaiming;

“YES!! I KNEW I'd make it one day….”

..