In This Moment

“Lucky to be alive,” can oft’ be heard

in the whispers surrounding one whom

trauma or disease, accident or disaster

has befallen. Upon surviving

such misfortune or malaise, it is

spoken with conviction.

”Lucky to be alive!” they say.

Such circumstances

give cause for

reflection and gratitude,

or perhaps

a fleeting understanding

of the delicate strand

by which all

dangles precariously.

“Lucky to be alive!”

is proclaimed loudly

to survivor, and hero…

 

Yet isn’t it so, for one and all,

from mountains majestic,

to a grain on the shore,

each breath and thought,

through battles fought,

each win or loss,

and through remorse,

is “lucky.”

Each sunrise, a second chance…

 

Let us be thankful,

as sweet breath gives us life.

Let us be thankful

through challenge and strife.

Let us be thankful

during tasks mundane,

when the sun is shining,

as when God sends the rain.

Let us whisper from within

with certainty and grace,

“lucky to be alive,”

in this moment, in this space.

Advertisement

Thank God I Married the Wrong Man

As a self-proclaimed “scorned” woman, and you will come to see, I definitely fit within the parameters of such a title, I have learned that there is a pitifully negative connotation attached to this status. It’s societal and familial. It is the concept that we are not whole if our partner or spouse does us wrong, or worse yet…leaves all together.

I actually use the term “scorned” in a satirical nod to my ex, who, during those dark times in our relationship, following the initial break-up, used to throw the word around at me as if this was some valid explanation for my “irrational” resentment towards him. In fact, it was true. I was scorned. I was hurt, angry, broken. At times, I was like a crazy-women, pissed-off and reeling, especially during those first treacherous months, whilst trying to regain my balance. I had two little ones, a boy, age 4, and a girl, age 2, at the time. I believed wholeheartedly that someone had pulled the rug from beneath my unsteady feet, and my entire world shifted.

The reality is, it is not possible to force another person to hold true to their commitments, even after you’ve both proclaimed, in front of God, Church and family, “‘Till death do us part.” Though, with my vision becoming increasingly clearer, it is apparent that, even though our marriage didn’t go the distance, my relationship with this man who scorned me is interminable, for the simple fact that we were gifted with two awesome children, who now literally bind us in ways both obvious and imperceptible, till death and beyond.  And I wouldn’t change a thing.

There is a quote by Cynthia Occelli, about a seed, which resonates so deeply with my feelings on the failure of my marriage, and the ensuing chaos and subsequent calm to follow. “For a seed to achieve its greatest expression, it must come completely undone. The shell cracks, its insides come out and everything changes. To someone who doesn’t understand growth, it would look like complete destruction.”

I am that seed, and my desire and ability for growth astounds me. Each of us is capable of this incredible blossoming, even after we are faced with a seeming destruction. For this, I am thankful. For our beautiful children, I am thankful.  And for marrying the “wrong man,” I am indeed thankful. From that scorn, I was reborn.

I Am Here

As I stare blankly, with wide eyes and a knotted stomach at my spanking new webpage, I am overwhelmed with emotions. Fear, of course, being one of the more prominent in the bunch, gnawing at my confidence, attempting valiantly to hold me back from the future possibilities of failure and pain (am I good enough?). Defiantly, and with conviction (for today at least), I banish this unwanted fun-stopper of an emotion from my psyche. Today I can, and I will push through it.

I have always had an affinity for writing, and Lord knows I enjoy the heck out of a good conversation too. So, perhaps my affection is for the whole process of communicating, and the power of the word, albeit written or spoken. OK, I confess. I am a bit of a chatterbox too.

For as long as I can remember, I have been the go-to-girl for those in my circle, in need of any type of writing or editing assistance. Starting back in High School, if a friend needed help with a paper, they called upon me. And the grades we got together were always good (maybe I was on to something).

But it wasn’t until the universe serendipitously brought a great friend into my life (hi Lisa!), with the same love of writing and talking (woo-hoo! I am not the only geek in town) that my need (yes darnit, NEED!) to nurture this part of myself came to the forefront of my consciousness. And with her encouragement (OK, she actually kicked me in the ass repeatedly), I am here!

I am a “scorned” woman, and mother of two awesome humans (well, awesome most of the time) with a passion for many things artistic, and especially for writing. I will share my thoughts and my story with you. It is not always pretty, but it has led me here, which is where I need to be.

I may be “scorned,” but more than that, I am thankful. Did I mention, I am HERE!?!