Tag Archives: Meaning of life

Some more Stuff

Stuff. I have written about my tendency to hold on to Stuff before. I hold on not just to scraps of paper and pictures and acorns and single mismatched earrings. I hold on to people, too. It is both my greatest quality and my weakness. In recent years I have learned to embrace the “people are in your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime” theory. Previously I tried to keep everyone in my life for a lifetime. I thought it made my life richer. Sadly, I think it may actually just dilute the people that are there day to day.

I have embraced the theory. I have. I have let go. And I have done so with peace in my heart and the knowledge that just because someone is no longer in my day to day does not mean that they were not there for a reason or that their season may not come around again.

I try to live this theory as it applies to my Stuff, too. I don’t always succeed. Right now in the back corner of my attic storage is a lampshade with black fringe from my Leg lamp costume. I know it is an item that served it’s purpose, it had a reason. I should let it go. But I want it to be a Lifetime piece, I do. I know it has no practical purpose… but you just never know. What if I need it?

In the last seven years I have moved three times. Prior to that I had moved only a handful of times in my life. I took advantage of each move to let go of some things. Having children makes the keeping of everything impossible. Holding on to each and every precious item, it is adding to the pile of Stuff that they will someday lug around.

Daylight Savings Time allows for a perfect morning. We all woke without the use of an alarm clock, our bodies gently nudging us towards wakefulness before the alarm clocks starts screaming Wake Up! You’re Late! (I wake to Monty Python’s Always Look on the Bright Side of Life every single day. Start each day with a laugh and a little perspective.) While Em ate breakfast I rummaged around in my junk drawer in the kitchen for three more items. I promise I won’t spend all month showing you shit from my kitchen junk drawer. Really.

Trash and Donate were easy today. For the trash I have two cheapie cat toys. A catnip toy that has a hole in the corner and a weird little ball that sheds blue plastic pieces. Lucy is a huge fan of cat toys and I am a huge fan of her not choking. We no longer have cats so these items have outlived their usefulness. They have neither a reason nor a season coming up in the near future so in to the trash with them. As I tossed them in to the kitchen garbage can I got a little misty. For the first time in more than 15years I will not be filling a christmas stocking with cat toys for an ungrateful beast that shits in a box in my house. A heartbreaking realization, I know.

Donate – I often wonder if the collect box tops for education campaign is real or if it is akin to the collect soda pop can tabs for cancer campaigns of my youth. I had jars of tabs, bracelets made of tabs, tabs in my pockets, in my backpack. I don’t remember ever doing anything with them, but I knew it was tacky not to pop them off before I chucked a can in to the trash. (In to the trash! Gasp, those crazy non-recycling 1980s.) I clip boxtops from the few items of prepackaged food we buy and I toss them in my kitchen drawer, or in to the bowl of fresh fruit that sits on the counter. Very occasionally I get it together and turn them in to the school. This year I have managed to send them in on three separate occasions and it is barely November. Yeehaw, stay at home mom for the win!

My Keep item is one that has surely outlived it’s season. But dammit, its reason is genius! 17 years ago I used to go to Busch Gardens in Williamsburg, Va quite often. Any and all funds that were not spent at Anheuser Busch’s amusement park were spent on their fine American made product, the Budweiser. Even as a young gal I oozed class and style. I didn’t always have a frosty mug with me, sadly, and I couldn’t just go around slugging beers from a can. I could snap on this metal handle and Tada! This item has a two-pronged approach to assisting you in catching a wicked buzz. Not only does your beer stay nice and cold because your hand is not warming it up but you can’t put it down without it tipping over so beers had a tendency to disappear before my eyes!

I can’t tell you the last time I used this. I pull it out on occasion to show someone. Typically someone visiting from my college days. But this item has lived in every junk drawer I have had for the last 17 years. It has outlasted the purge of moving to a new state. I can’t get rid of it now. Dare I say that this item has no reason, it has no season? Is this a Lifetime junk drawer item?

For today I am going with a solid, yes. Yes, it is. I wanted to show you how handy it is. No can of beer to be found. Here it is providing a handle to my jar of Fish Oil Supplements. Fish Oil has done wonders for my achy creaky joints in the morning. Amazingly enough a solid decade of Budweisers did not seem to make me bounce out of bed feeling like a million bucks. Who knew?

Stay tuned for 26 more days of my treasured pieces of crap. Can you even imagine the wondrous items yet to be revealed?

The Weight

So, a really smart person asked me another really smart question. And for a second I wished she’d knock that shit off.  But it was asked with just the right amount of “tell me if I am stepping on your toes and I’ll shut up” to know she really meant that.  And given that she knows whereof she speaks, I paused.  And really thought about the answer.

And the more I thought about it the quieter I felt like being… and now that I think I have an answer for her, I figured it was as good an excuse as any to choke back out some words right here so I can get past the pre-christmas pity party I threw for myself.  Barfing up some whiny mess here is like barfing up tequila at a party.  You’re not really even sorry you did it, because you really do feel better, you’re just sorry you have to see any of those people again, the people that saw you leaving the bathroom, sweating, dazed and stinking of a Cancun party bus.

So, what she asked me is if I was  “depressed.”  Or suffering from “minor depression” with an apology for the use of the word minor, which was fair, as all who have suffered from it know that it feels like being told you were in a “minor car accident,” only your car is totaled and uninsured.  Short answer.  No.  I’m not.  I have been, in my life, and so I took some time and stepped back and thought about it.  But nope.    But I am suffering daily.  On two fronts.  That I am hard pressed to believe are not related.

Several months ago when I had my IUD removed I started paying really careful attention to my body.  Oddly, at the same time I stopped taking  particularly good care of it.  Thank you very much, holiday food and drink.  But in an effort to keep my psychosis and paranoia from consuming me I started charting my temps and watching my ovulation signs so I would know when to expect my period, consequently limiting the amount of time I spend convinced I am pregnant mere months before the Biggest and Most Fun Party Ever, I mean our wedding.   At about this same time I started experiencing terrific back pain.  Being a nerd, I logged all these symptoms in to my phone.  Since the holidays were a bigger priority to me than running or the gym has been the last couple months, I couldn’t blame it on the gym.

Stepping back now I can see I am in pain more often than not.

In the morning I struggle to get out of bed.  Mornings are the toughest, as I wince through making coffee, struggle to get back up from a crouched position to get something from the fridge.  I am short with Em and MQD.  I am angry.  A hot shower and a heaping handful of Advil go a long way.  But it’s not my favorite way to wake up.  Angry.  Hurting.

The pain in my back lends itself nicely to feeling sorry for myself.  Not only does it contribute to my lack of exercise, but it causes me to dwell unnecessarily on the process of aging.  I think, and think about how lucky I was that I was so healthy for so many years, and really have experienced very little physical pain.

And as soon as I make that distinction….. no physical pain,  the pain I did feel all comes back, because I am already crying, might as well make use of it.  And before I know it, I am crouched on the floor in the kitchen in front of the fridge, or bent over the trying to pick up my shoes, crying… because my back hurts, and because I am sad I went so long without doing the hard work to get happy.  Now that I have it, this capital letter h Happy… I can’t believe I went so long without finding it.  The easier my relationship becomes with Jer the more I wonder why I didn’t just let him go sooner.  We have our family back.  Em’s got her dad, I have my friend.  And we have MQD.  Who daily is more than I ever could have imagined a man to be.

So… the short answer to am I depressed is no.  But I am in pain.  My back hurts.  And my heart hurts.  And hurting makes me angry.  And being angry makes me unreasonably frustrated with everything.

I am having a hard time reconciling the fact that I am really fucking sad. Right smack dab in the middle of the happiest time of my life.  And I am confused by it.

Marriage is a leap of faith.  One I am prepared to make.  I feel confident and secure.  As secure as someone like me gets anyway…. but all of it, all of this capital letter “H” Happiness is stirring up Sadness and Anger and Failure and all kinds of bullshit that has no repository.  So, how do just I barf it up like that cheap tequila so I can make it all over with quicker?  The same way I used to try to then… drink more of it.  I wallowed in it, hoping that one good splash of feelings would come up from deep inside me and the sweating would stop and I’d feel better.  But it’s just not coming.  So… where do I go from here?

To have someone help me  pull it all out.  Let me look at it and then step over it.

My back hurts.  My heart hurts.  And it’s getting in the way of me sucking up all the Good that is surrounding me.  So in the last couple of weeks I did a couple of things that were hard, but not as hard as carrying this weight.  I asked MQD to help me with Em so I can take care of me.  I made an appointment with someone “to talk to” so I can move on.  And this morning I called the chiropractor.  It’s either my heart making my back hurt or my back making my heart hurt.  I’m not wasting any more time….   gonna fix ’em both up.  And take a load off….

Day 52: The Meaning of Life

Day 52: Determine the meaning of Life by looking it up in the dictionary.

the condition that distinguishes organisms from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction, and the power of adaptation to environment through changes originating internally.
And if that doesn’t do it for you, from Monthy Python’s Meaning of Life: The End of the Film
Well, it’s nothing very special. Uh, try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.
I think a combination of those two is a pretty fair assessment.
And for me?  The Meaning of my Life.  It’s pretty simple.  John Lennon said it best.  All you need is Love. I woke up one morning, turned over and found this.  And my heart almost exploded.