music

             image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2013

beauty

                                                                                              image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2013

letting go or giving up...

At work, sitting with a group of my patients, I always start by having everyone introduce themselves.  I've learned that most everyone wants to tell their story and absolutely everyone needs to share their story.  It creates bonds with others who have experienced a similar fate, it validates our own personal struggles and it is crucial to starting the healing process, letting go.

My group on this particular day consisted of four patients, all working on improving their short term memory and a variety of other cognitive skills, however, each one's story started out a little different.  One patient suffered a head injury during a car accident, two patients suffered strokes and one patient is recovering from hydrocephalus resulting from a failed shunt.  Different paths, different journeys.

As we start out, my first patient tells us his name, where he's from and a little about his family.  He states "I have eight children here on earth and one in heaven."  I felt a lump appear in my throat.  As the soft spot light slowly worked it's way around the group to me, I heard myself start my usual spiel and then an interesting thing happened.. I became acutely aware of the low buzzing sound from the fluorescent fixtures above us, the dewy drops of sweat forming on my palms and the fact that I was disclosing information for which I felt I was not prepared.  I felt like I was telling someone else's secret.  "I have two wonderful little boys here, and one child in heaven too," I heard myself say. 

This was not earth shattering information.  My closest friends and family were aware of the miscarriage of my third and final pregnancy, but somehow sharing this with a group of strangers made it oh so real, made me feel a little lighter and a little stronger- and a little dizzy (if I'm going to be totally honest).  Different paths?  Different journeys?

Funny, how a moment can be experienced so differently by each person in it.  To my patients, the information I shared was sad, but was not altering to them in anyway.  Yet, to me, this moment changed everything!  I breathed a little more deeply after this, the view from behind the shadowy haze of loss became a little more clear and I began to to let go- just a smidge.

I wasn't even aware of how tightly I was holding on to these memories.  I was holding them so close to my chest with the strength of both arms, as if keeping them there meant I somehow would never truly lose my little one, no wonder I had been having trouble letting anything or anyone else in.  After this group session with my patients, I finally relaxed and unhinged my arms.  I started to wrap up these memories like little gifts.  I cereberally labeled each with it's associated emotions like gift tags and placed them in my figurative backpack.  See, I believe we all carry around a little backpack filled with our own unique compilation of "baggage."  My, backpack became heavier that day (a lot heavier!), but I freed up my arms; freed them up to be able to hug my boys more fully, freed them up to be able to help others carry their loads when needed and freed me up to be able to start collecting new memories- to start to live a little more.

These memories and moments are not gone, I've simply moved them.  I can and do take them out to look at them all the time.  The edges are softening a little at a time and I take great comfort in returning them to my "backpack" when I'm done.  These experiences, usually the more painful ones, are shaping me- they are me.  I don't have to give up a thing by letting go, and in fact, it allows me to get more out of my life- out of each beautiful moment.


“Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” -C.S. Lewis

need to remember this..

  image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2012

shades..

I realized today that writing this blog, my short stories and the novel I've been working on for the last two years- as well as my photography- are my current sun glasses and big hair.  If that statement doesn't make much sense, then I know you're paying attention!  It doesn't make sense, not immediately...

When I was younger, late teens or so, I wasn't quite sure who I was let alone willing to share whatever I was with the world.  So, I would hide behind my big hair and sunglasses.

It was like a Halloween costume you never had to take off.  I don't think I understood this at the time, but I realize it now.  It was easier to show some vulnerabilities from behind this guise, then to just let it all hang out- so to speak.

Now, I have to wear prescription sunglasses and my hair isn't nearly as big (nor is it socially acceptable anymore), so I find that hiding isn't as much of an option.  That's where writing and photography come into play.  I can communicate my thoughts through the images I choose to capture and the text I choose to create.  I can show glimpses of myself while remaining behind the lens and behind the keyboard.  This works for me. 

What works for my oldest son these days is hiding behind the winter hat and sunglasses that he seems to never be without and that I am always asking him to remove.  I won't be doing that anymore!

joule or jewel?

Okay, so yesterday I had a moment.  I did not choose to chase the light, as I posted the other day.  I did not try to see all things strewn about my path as meaningful or educational.  I did not try to release the past and keep looking forward.  Instead, I gave name to a few of the things that I feel are holding me back.  I articulated the thoughts in my head and released or, more to the point, unleashed them at my unsuspecting husband (for better or for worse, he knew what he was getting into).  To be fair, he really has very little to do with my obstacles, my side steps and now that I have said these things out loud- I realize that he can really have very little to do with me adjusting my focus either (total bummer, because it's nice to have someone else to blame!).

I started to think about the word "potential." I used it recently to describe my friend's daughter and the fact that she is starting the process of selecting a college to attend.  We talked about how we wouldn't necessarily want to re-do that time in our lives, but that it would be awesome to be in that magical state of potential- when anything is possible.

So, this got me thinking about physics of course (I am a total science geek, can't help it), specifically, "potential energy."  There are different types of potential energy and a few different ways to define it, but basically..

Potential Energy is stored energy that a body possesses based on it's position to others, stresses acting within it, electric charges and so on.  This stored energy is "hidden" and is ready to be utilized in the future to do something "useful."  An object usually has potential energy because a force has moved it to a different position or changed it in some way.  And, ironically, potential energy is measured in joules.

Funny, that it's physics once again that gives me some inspiration and peace.  I guess the study of the universe should give us just that, so maybe it's not so funny after all. I mean the word physics does comes from Greek and Latin roots meaning "of nature," "growth," and "to bring forth," so big cosmic DUH to me! 

Anyway, I took a few things away from my research: 1. There is nothing in the definition of potential energy that says anything about age or dissipating over time.  Basically, an object has varying degrees of potential energy, until it is released to do something "useful."  This is what I am searching for- to do something useful.  So, I must still be filled with potential!!  2. The stresses in our lives, the people closest to us and our surroundings- all impact our potential.  And, lastly- the fact that potential energy is measured in joules- just makes my soul smile.  Of course it would be joules- because our potential energy/potential as human beings is shiny and sparkly and hidden in the depths of our being- just waiting to be mined, released into the burst of kinetic energy that will allow us to do something "useful."

Is this not the battle cry of the middle aged house wife?  We all have so much potential, so much shiny, sparkliness within us.  For sure- raising a healthy and happy family and creating decent, responsible, loving men out of my sweet boys- IS doing something useful!!  I do not doubt this for a moment.  My work as a speech therapist IS useful and helpful to many.  But, I am referring to doing something useful for me (of course, if it happens to benefit the universe in some way I am totally cool with that too).

This is my new wish- to be able to adjust my focus, realign the forces that impact my potential (increase my joules!) and do something useful!!!!  Who's with me?????

today I choose...

                                                                                                                                                                              image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2012

my new word...

Portitions:  (noun)  The invisible, yet much perceived portal-like spaces in between activities, experiences and life altering events.

Are you afraid of the portition?  

He jumped into the portition as if diving into a frigid pool, with equal amounts of excitement and trepidation.

The moment right before becoming a parent for the first time, is a major portition. 

Newtown..

image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2012

No more guns, no more innocents lost.  

We belong to each other- across the world, across our country and throughout our communities. 

 Our love, our sorrow and our prayers are with you Connecticut.

it's coming!

                                                                                               image © held by AnnMarie Gitchell, 2012