Pick and Choose

I am in love. With a house that is. I shouldn’t be cheating on my realtor and looking without her knowledge, but she is out of town, and it all happened so fast. And now I am in love. I will promise her I will never let it happen again, it was just that one time and it meant nothing! Really! I didn’t plan it, I was bored and it just sort of happened. I’m getting ahead of myself, let me back up a little.

When I moved us into our little lake house, it was always with the intent that I would take my time, look around, and find the house that “fit”. Ideally, the house that fits, sits up on a hill with a large windows in every room, tastefully decorated, and offers breathtaking view of the lake. Yeah, that house pretty much “fits” us all, just not our wallets. So my compromise is a condo. Close to the lake, easy upkeep, and affordable.

So I am at my bosses house the other night and his wife asks me where we are looking for houses, and I tell her I am looking for condos near the lake. She says “Your face just scrunched up when you said the word ‘condo’”.

“Really?” I reply. I didn’t notice. But I did – later it hit me. I DID scrunch my face. But why? I thought I had made my decision and I was happy and comfortable with it. I was, wasn’t I? DUUHHH! An almost complete stranger noticed what I was denying to even myself. A guilty pleasure. And that guilty pleasure is looking at, and even uttering the word “house”. But I wouldn’t allow it! I had given up on the house in the name of practicality. Yea for Mel! Practical!!

Then it was right in front of me, before I could react – 240 West ________ street. Cute, quaint, and perfect. I guess you really don’t get to pick and choose what (or who) you fall in love with. It sort of finds you. I’ll break this to my realtor somehow….

So it got me thinking about love and the power of picking and choosing. Can you pick and choose whether its a home, a job, or love? Or does something more powerful than us take over and says “Nope, this is the one; stop the car right here!”

I have fallen in love with men who I never saw myself with. I picked them, or they picked me and eventually we “chose” to be together. Then for whatever reason, we chose not to be together anymore. The end, NEXT!. But what if that doesn’t actually happen? What if you thought you had some power over that emotion to quit, walk away or try to pretend they are laying under a bus somewhere doesn’t work? What if you find you choose to be with this person despite your thought they aren’t the right “pick”? What if there is an uncontrollable urge (like with the house vs. condo) that points you right back to your heart and not your mind? Frustrating as hell isn’t it?

I would like to think that I will walk into that house and talk myself right out of it. Truth is I already see myself in that house. Having parties, building cute little flower boxes for the front windows, and finding the perfect outdoor lighting that says “Welcome to my home”. DAMN! I don’t want to be in love with that house. I want to be in love with a condo! Condos are easy, they are already “done”, they don’t need much from me, someone has done all the thinking… but this house is sooooo cute and it just fits. These are the times I wish someone was there to say “Go for it, follow your heart!” or “Are you insane, go for the condo by the lake!”

I guess my heart and my head are about to have a big fight. HUGE fight! Someone will have to be the dealbreaker. The voice of reason here, because I want that house, I want to spend the rest of my life working on that house and making it all I’ve ever wanted. It’s halfway there, it just needs the love of a good woman. But the other side of me wants to be happy and content with a condo.

Maybe between now and the spring when we have to say goodbye to our lake house something amazing will happen. Maybe I won’t have to make this decision at all. Maybe someone will buy that little house right out from under me and love it more than I ever could. Maybe the market will improve so much I won’t be able to pick the right condo at all, let alone afford one! Maybe that little house will wait for me. Because it knows we belong together, maybe that little house will scare off all other potentials and wait for me.

I need a miracle or a sign. Either way…. gotta explain this cheating to my realtor tomorrow!

Readers? Any great advice? I’m all ears.

Love,

Mel

The Frog Prince – One Girls’ Hope

I went on a field trip yesterday. Well the kids went, I just tagged along. I snuck into the gift shop because a girls gotta shop, and there before my eyes was exactly what I had needed to cure my broken heart. A frog. Wow, you say to yourself, this girl is desperate! Hang on, don’t judge too quickly! He wasn’t just ANY frog, he was wearing a crown. He’s a frog prince! Has your faith been restored? Can you just read the rest of this blog?

I snatched that little guy right up, picked up something cute for my other prince (my son), and walked away with the first real smile in a week. It was a good day… until later, but that’s another blog entirely.

Frog Prince came home and now sits next to my laptop. His crown is a little crooked on his head, he’s all rusty, he wiggles on the desk as I “tap, tap” on my keyboard, and he’s a little overweight for my taste. He’s PERFECT! Do you want to know why he’s perfect? Because I know under all that rust, and pot belly lays every little girls (and now grown up girls) fantasy. If you kiss him he will turn into a handsome prince! And we will live happily ever after. The END! No? Not the end? How come? What’s up with you trying to pop the bubble I’ve so happily lived in all these years? Poo on you. I’m going to kiss that little guy…..

“POOF”!!! Little shit is still sitting on my desk! The POOF, was the bulb in my lamp burning out. Damn, SOOOO close! Ok, you don’t win yet, once I replace that bulb, I’m going in for another kiss….

We’ve all been there. We saw the pot bellied, charming, but not so cute guy and thought, “OH if I kiss him, I can turn him into whomever I wish”. WRONG! If he’s got a pot belly before you kiss him, chances are he’ll still need to do a few sit ups when your lips part. If he looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and squawks like a duck – he’s a duck. Don’t kiss him, ducks don’t have lips!

I’ve kissed lots of frogs, thinking the love of a good (no great) woman would make them into this amazing person. Falling in love, being truly loved will surely bring out all their best “Prince Like” qualities. Right girls? Didn’t we all think that? Nod your head yes because you know I am right.

Truth is, people are who they are. If you think you will make a difference in their lives, you might. For about 45 seconds or so. Then they go right back into their old bad habits. People (men and women) are creatures of habit. They must change on their own and do so because it’s good for them, not you. They must truly understand the evolution process can happen in a complete lifetime and not over billions of years. To change, to be better than you were in your last relationship will take proof. Proof to yourself first, and then investing the time to SHOW the one you love.

Now if you are not aware that the prince has a kink in his armor, then he’s home free. BUT, if he admits that he’s human and has made mistakes, then those mistakes unfortunately may ‘cross-over’ into other relationships – even years later.

I had a prince a long time ago. I’ve had several really great guys in my life. Unfortunately, I let them hop back into the pond. I let them go because they weren’t much of a challenge. Challenges are the things that make my adreneline pump, make my heart race faster, and my eyes brighter. I love a challenge and have kissed plenty of frogs to prove that point. Sadly, like that little guy with the crooked crown, they are still frogs… to me at least.

But maybe the next girl will find them their one and only happy ending. God I hope that for everyone. That frog, even though he might be a smuck, deserves to be loved – pot belly and all. I deserve to be loved. Showered with roses, covered in kisses, and devoured in love ever after.

My little prince watches over me tonight, he smiles at me and cheers me on. He doesn’t ask much, but today when I’ve had enough of men and the lies, he just holds out his little three-fingered hand and asks for me to come along on his fairy tale ending…. somewhere in that pond of love. I think that’s what my real prince will do. If he’s got a six pack, or a pot belly, if he smiles at me, holds out his hand (hopefully with more than three finger), and asks me to be his princess, I think I’ll take whatever I see after we kiss and I open my eyes. I think I will be staring at my Prince.

Kiss with confidence, and kiss for keeps. Don’t we all need to believe in happily ever after? Because when it’s all said and done – what’s “after”?

Love,

Mel

The Three L’s – Love, Learn, Lose

I know, you were expecting something else. It would be so much more pleasant if the three L’s I am going to blog about in the next few paragraphs were those little signs you see at Hallmark “Live, Laugh, Love”. Sorry, not today. Run to Hallmark if you feel the need to get some warm fuzzies. I personally love that phrase, I think I had it on one of my walls in my last house. Today I want to go right to the heart of the three L’s that often times weave their way into all of our realities (and not necessarily our walls). Ready, set, let’s “L” together.

Love – I adore that word. It is sacred, and everything I find holy and spiritual. I know the meaning of it on a deep, deep level. I know what it stands for and I know what it doesn’t stand for. Sometimes the word can flow from your mouth before you are able to take it in and breathe it’s sanctity. You are anxious, threatened, scared, or truly moved by someone so much you think this word is all that will be needed to keep and sustain them. How careful you must be not to misplace the timing of a declaration of love. After it has been uttered, the bar is set, and the game of love is on. It’s all different after that. Expectations, rules of engagement, and all that stood before is still there, just heightened a hundred fold. You pray you can live up to the power of the word. You pray you will be worthy for a lifetime of this person you said “Love” to. It’s a huge responsibility, and I wish people took it more seriously.

No one is perfect. Life and love are lessons we all must learn. Onto the second “L” – Learn. People can be taught at any age. The desire to learn and become more than you are/were should make life exciting and worthwhile. I’ve learned so much about myself in the last few years. I’ve learned I am alot stronger than I ever knew. I’ve been tested in ways no one should be tested. I walked through the fires and came out with a strong understanding of myself, the power of life, and the value in lessons learned.

I learn, or at least try to learn from my mistakes. I admit to my shortcomings outloud, and work on them if opportunities present themselves. I was in a relationship once that seemed very genuine. I felt safer with this man than anyone in recent memory. It had been a tough road to move back to the “L” word with anyone, and at last I found myself saying it. But I soon began to doubt that he was who he said he was. I panicked thinking I couldn’t be this stupid or naive at my age! And who at MY age is going to play a trick like that? I have learned in the past to listen to my gut, and my gut was telling me something was rotten. It didn’t take much time, he admitted I had been right all along. The love word had been thrown out quite prematurely (by us both) and I was left standing with my heart in my hand – and little else. All dignity and sense of balance thrown completely out the window.

So I learned and I lost. Heartbreaking, gutwrenching news. On to the last “L” – Lose. So obviously no one wins when “Lose” is in the sentence somewhere. What next? Do you run right back to the first “L” and try to “Love” again? Some might. I suspect he will quickly. I chose to move back into #2 – Learn. What did I learn so I don’t Lose next time? Well I would have to say I need to keep the word Love high on the pedestal it deserves to stand on. Cherish that word – when spoken from the right lips – is true and honest. There isn’t a set of conditions, or make believe feelings that “tag along’ with Love. It stands on its own.

I will Love, and Learn and hopefully never Lose again. The reality is that there will always be people out there throwing that word around to people like me who actually like that word and believe it with every fiber of their being. It’s not a word to get someone in bed, make them doubt their dreams or ambitions, and it certainly wasn’t invented for people who have no desire to Live to Love. If you are going to Live, Laugh, Love… I couldn’t be happier for you. If you find yourself confused about the meaning of Love – look it up, talk to people who are in loving relationships, and never utter it until you can back it up. Be someone who Loves to Learn and Lives to Love, not Loves to Lose.

As for me… it’ll take some time. But I’ll be back. Stay tuned!

Love,

Mel

Friends and/or Lovers

So you met someone. Congratulations! Is this person your friend or your lover? Or your “and/or”? Of course you want to do the mature thing and be friends first. That is the basis and foundation for all great and lasting relationships, right? But then there’s the other part of you that wants to….. Let’s have a chat about the want shall we? An honest, frank discussion about friends and lovers and where you stand on that.

First let’s get to the easy one. Friends. If there is absolutely no sexual attraction between either of you, then this is a short paragraph. Not much to say, is there. Or is there? Are you denying your feelings? Supressing for the greater good? Are you currently in a relationship and anything that smacks of flirting is a betrayal? You’d be right, and thank you for not being a smuck.

But what if there is a vibe when you are together but neither of you are acting on it? It’s all in the “friend zone” and you both intend to keep it there. There’s no real reason not to take it to the next level, try it on for size, as it were. See how it “fits”. Kiss her dammit, do it already! I knew a girl who was in friendly relationship with a man that lived next door to her. They had settled in the friend zone and eventually as alot of relationships go, she ended up wondering why he’d never even tried to kiss her. It was frustrating and hard to listen to as it dragged on through the better part of two years.

Finally, she told him to make a move or get the hell out. Gamble for sure, but he grabbed her on her front lawn, and laid one on her! Dear God man, what took you so long?! It was a great kiss according to my friend, but I moved, we lost touch, and I never heard if that was the moment they left the friend zone and entered into the friend and/or lover stage.

I will speak up and say what’s on my mind. Not one person has ever accused me of being cryptic. If you want to know where you stand with me, look in my eyes, and ask. I will tell you, honestly. If I want you, I will tell you, and on the other side of that coin, I will let you down gently if the answer is no.

Communication and a clear voice is all it takes here folks, just use your words. You will either have exactly what you want, or walk away with the information you needed. Either way it’s honest and the only way to go. Who wants to walk around for the rest of their lives with a bunch of “what if’s”?

So now lets go to the “and/or”. That’s a little trickier. You can be one of two things in this category. Friends with benefits, or a great relationship that is working it’s way towards forever. I don’t care who you are, friends with benefits doesn’t work. At some point, someone gets hurt. Why? Because one of you got invested. One of you broke Rule #1 in a friends with benefits arrangement and started having feelings. At some point when you two were having great sex “as friends”, one of you mistook a signal and let your brain wander too far into “relationship land”. One of you then came to the conclusion “Hey this is a great friendship, we are obviously compatible in the bedroom, we should have a relationship!” And BAM, just like that the “and/or” becomes an uncomfortable conversation.

Someone was loving the freedom that came with the less emotional part of this “arrangement”. Someone didn’t want to have to blurt out feelings afterwards, bask in the glow of it all, and stand at the door for 2 hours saying “goodnight”. Someone just wanted to have sex. Period.

OK, so which one of you caved in to your feelings? And is that a crime? Absolutley not! Do not beat yourself up for this. If sex and love can be separated so easily, then what kind of society are we moving towards? Where intimacy is a word no one knows the meaning of; slow, long, lingering kisses are a thing of the past, and asking a woman out on a date outside of her bedroom is the exception, not the rule.

It’s not just men, women have done this too. I have done this. But sometimes, there is a bond that develops over time, and you start to wonder if it’s real. You want to test it outside the confines of your candlelit bedroom. Take it into the light, or as I said earlier – try it on and see if it fits. You already know the sex is amazing, what about the rest? Does she drink too much and just nibble on her salad. Does he chew with his mouth open and reach across the table and take your croutons without asking? Go ahead – ask. What can it hurt?

But I can almost guarantee if the relationship started in the bed, it will end in the bed. I’m sorry, but I gotta call a spade a spade. History with these relationships have about a good a track record as affairs. They end when the danger of sneaking around, doing something taboo has reached it’s ugly conclusion.

So what are we left with? I’ve lost track… Oh yeah, friends and lovers. This is where you are best friends and the sex is amazing and you are in love with your lover. It all came together perfectly, like the perfect storm. You built a friendship and were honest with yourselves about the sexual chemistry. You set your priorities straight from the beginning and neither took over. You didn’t end up in the “friend zone” and concurrently you didn’t end up ripping each others clothes off every time you were in the same room together. You found that healthy balance that every relationship strives for. You laugh as friends, and giggle as lovers under the covers. Bravo – good job!

I want to challenge you to look at your current relationship. What is it? Friends, lovers, “and/or”, or maybe something in between. What does it look like in ten years when you close your eyes. Do you see yourself kissing her? Do you see yourself wanting him as more than a friend? Can you honestly see yourself married to this person? If he’s married, stay away girl. Get it out of your head. Same goes for you guys. But if he/she isn’t taken, and you get that tingly feeling when he calls, or comes around, say something. Speak up -or forever hold your peace. You might just get the best friend AND lover that you’ve ever dreamed of.

Love,

Mel

Hard To Say I’m Sorry – Hardly Ever Actually

I am stubborn as hell. Blame it on the German heritage. Cursed genes. I’ve got people I’ve not spoken to in years because I am incapable of saying two stinking words – “I’m sorry”. It’s risky, and it requires a whole lot more than I am capable of giving. Not to mention the apologies that have rolled off my tongue in my life had oftentimes been thrown back or ignored. Hence the “hardly ever actually” part of the title of the blog. So I want to rectify that. Not in the cheesy “hey, I’m in a twelve step program and my sponsor says so”, kinda way, but a real, honest look at saying I’m sorry and the consequences and benefits of it (to me and yes of course to you the reader).

When I got divorced I moved in to what me and the kids refer to as the “crack house”. It didn’t have crack in it, but it was falling apart, cracks in the ceiling, cracks in the walls, and cracks in our hearts growing wider by the day. It was humiliating to leave the house you own, to go live in the “crack house”. I use humor alot to mask all that is too painful to cry about. My soon to be ex dropped off our baby on a rare visitation day, and stood in our rental home looked around and said “Hey, not so bad!” Seriously? My mouth dropped open and had I not weighed 85 pounds at the time, I think I would have beat him to the gringy linoleum floor of the crack house. I asked him if he was sorry for anything he’d done to me and the children and his flippant response still resonates after all else has left “Yes, I’m sorry, just not for what you want me to be sorry for.” In those few misplaced but deliberate words, I knew what the rest of my life would look like. I had no apology coming from him that day or ever, and with no apology came no closure.

Closure is what is needed at the end of something – death doesn’t offer a need for an apology, but relationships need one usually because someone screwed up. So who steps up and says I’m sorry? Sometimes no one. I’m guilty of that. I’d rather ignore you than have to admit I was wrong. Sometimes I’m mad at you and need you to break the silence and say you are sorry. Either way, if a German (that would be me) is involved, it can be a long wait. Pack a lunch, bring a pillow.

OK, so saying “I’m sorry” – let’s look at that. What does that mean? Are you crazy? It means you are VULNERABLE and WEAK! You have to admit that you do not walk in the company of let’s say… oh I don’t know… Jesus! I want everyone to walk away with the feeling that I am either the best thing they never had, or the greatest catch they let walk (no jump) back into the ocean. Well, that’s ridiculous! What an ego Mel! Who thinks that? I am honest and humble enough to know that no matter how my relationships end, no one thinks that! If they did, they’d be calling me right now, begging me to reconsider or at least “consider”. It’s hard to admit that when you say you are sorry you fall off the pedestal someone may have you on, isn’t it?

But what’s the worst that can happen? So you drop down a couple of notches. You don’t have to become this “other” person because you admitted you were wrong, and you feel bad about it. If the person you are apologizing to loves you or at least cares about you honestly and without condition, they will hear you out before they hang up on you. And maybe (here comes the good part), maybe they don’t hang up on you! WOW! Good new right? Maybe… if it’s done right.

Apologizing takes finesse. Takes guts, takes moxy. I’m not sure I have any of those. Silence seems much more poetic than giving a real emotion some actual forethought. Yes silence is the better route, don’t you agree? Lonely, but poetic. And lonely poets are…. yeah, right, lonely poets.

I am going to try it. Take baby steps with the apologizing so to speak. It’s like goodbyes with me, I’m better off writing it. If you are deserving of an apology from me, this is your best bet, I’m going to need to grow and this is part of it. Take it or leave it….

So… I’m sorry. I hurt you and for that I am sorry. I never meant for it to come to this, and never meant for us to stop speaking forever. If you read this and feel you are “owed” an apology, and feel like you can find it in your heart to forgive, then hopefully tonight or the next day, or the day after that your heart will be lighter. I can’t say mine is, that would be a cheap way out, but I’m glad if it somehow helps you understand me a little better and are able to forgive my ineptness and that I said it (sort of). I can say it in person or on the phone, just not today. Baby steps….

I have no clue who I am apologizing to, but it’s out there for anyone I’ve offended, pissed off, made red with anger to the point of tears, and cursed my name in their mirror, and deleted from their cell phone and email accounts. I deserve it, and for that I apologize.

I didn’t spontaneously combust. Look at that! My heads still on my shoulders, I didn’t sink into the ground with only my shoes and some steam left on the sidewalk, and I didn’t get eaten up by the black hole of death. See! Apologies don’t kill. And if they are done correctly, might heal. Might make your heart lighter, your day brighter and the sky, however cloudy, seem a little less cloudy. Try it… I promise nothing bad will happen.

Love,

Mel

Lost and Found

Mom’s yelling “I am NOT buying you another pair of mittens; your hands will have to freeze until spring!” Eyes as big as pancakes, you vow to find the other elusive missing mitten. As soon as the doors open to your elementary school, you are there and running to the office to sort through the lost and found box. Black mittens, brown ones, red with white stripes, and everything in between. Just not the purple one. You make a mental note to ask for black mittens next year (easier to replace). Now what? Looks like another year of walking around with your hand in your pocket until the spring thaw… crap you think to yourself. Then one trip to the grocery store and the mother witch has quietly laid a pair of mittens with “tethers” on the dining room table next to your glass of milk. No words are ever spoken as you run to your room to weave the mittens through the arms of your winter coat. I don’t care if I get beat up for having mittens with tethers, you think to yourself, at least I won’t have to go through that lost and found box ever again!

Lost and found. Geez, what’s the big deal? Well first it’s humiliating, especially if the secretary says “Mel, what’da lose today?” Kids with ADHD are always losing things so before ADHD had a “name”, kids like me were just irresponsible. It was my cross to bear, and now as an adult I can clearly see that it was really my God given right to lose stuff like mittens, books, coats, sleds, and bikes. ADHD had a firm hold on my attention span, and well… it’s just part of my charm! The secretary didn’t see it that way. She’d be sorry for being so hard on me NOW. I don’t lose anything.. well hardly anything!

I think if I had a lost and found box now, I’d go look for things like the great relationships that everyone else has, and I can’t seem to “find”. I’d be looking for the heart that skips a beat, the kiss that takes my breath away, and the longing that brings me to tears, the smile that tells me I am the only one in the room. I’d be looking in the “Love Lost and Found” box. Have you ever wished there was one of those?

It would be a flurry of emotions flying past my shoulders and through the air. Instead of scarves, mittens, pencils with all those gross chew marks on them flying past that secretary’s head, she’d be dodging “so-so guys”, half-baked marriages, divorce decrees, and cheesy lines followed by a dozen roses. Sure she’d try to catch the beautiful flowers, but I’d have to remind her with a quick point of my finger “No! No, those flowers are “lost” for a reason!”

If you were looking in a box of lost and found items from your past, what would you want to find? An old love letter, a picture of the day you first heard your newborn cry, or the look on your face when you met your future wife, or husband? What would you hope to find at the bottom? Does it mean a second chance with that found item or memory? Do you need to find a second chance or just find what you’ve always wanted – like courage?

I know someone who has a lot of courage in his everyday life but when it comes to his personal life he’s not willing to take alot of chances. That is hard for me to get my arms around. I’ve always been courageous (in most things). I know what I want, and I know how to “find” it. Others have to sort through that lost and found box for their courage, or what ever they hope to find. I think sometimes people, like my friend, secretly hope they never find what they are looking for.

So that got me to thinking.. maybe I don’t want to “find” what I am looking for. Maybe the whole concept of that elusive feeling and moment and subsequent relationship that can lead to a lifetime isn’t what I want to find. Maybe if it’s lost, it’s more appealing. Like my friend who cannot even begin to dig in the box, maybe it’s easier for both of us to either not find, or simply never look in the box. If you don’t know it’s lost, then you don’t need to look for it. Right?

I know what is lost in my life. I am painfully aware of it and I can say it outloud. If nothing, I’m honest about it. I can’t say that everyone I know would say it outloud -let alone Blog about it. And I can’t say I’ve made peace with it, I’m not sure what I’ve made of it. Being alone in my new (old) home has made that fact glaringly apparent. Going to the bosses house for a company party and being not only the only girl in the office, but the only single person in the office is, well…. a tough pill to swallow.

Lost and Found – If there is something lost, or missing, do you dare walk into the principals office, face the scrutiny of that secretary and boldly go to the box to find your life/love/courage, or do you wander around with your hand in your pocket and spend the rest of the winter cold and humiliated? If you think it’s pitiful to do the latter, take your hand out of your pocket, suck up your ego, ignore that woman behind the desk and march to the box and “find” what you are searching for. Happy searching!

Love,

Mel

Legend in Your Own Mind

Everyone thinks their important and either destined for greatness or already there. And maybe, on some level you are. Way to go! All those self-help books, morning afirmations, hours at the gym working on your abs, and that impressive list of friends on Facebook and Linkedin are paying off! Bravo! You’ve earned those bragging rights. Or have you? Maybe you are really just a legend in your own mind… Ouch, this blog might hurt.

I recently populated an impressive resume into a proposal at work and the guy had almost 100 different hardware, software, tools, and operating systems to his credit. I commented to a co-worker that this guy sounded like a dream candidate to which he responded “Well, he listed them but how many is he really proficient in?” At first I thought he was just jealous, then I gave it some more thought. Is more less, or less more?

As a writer I try to get to my point in just a few short paragraphs. To me, less is more, always. I don’t have 100+ “friends” on my linkedin page, and I’m not collecting bodies on my new facebook. When I write, I don’t send you down a long and winding path, to get you back to the point that you’ve completely forgotten. I’m told I do a pretty good job. Yep, I just bragged.

Being a legend in your own mind, in my opinion, can get in the way of a healthy relationship. Usually there are just the two of you, but if either one of you has an inflated ego – well three’s a crowd folks! Let me explain. I met and later married a man who thought he was the “president of everybody”. He was overweight, had a severely large ego, real or just bravado (still not sure), and an amazing list of accomplishments from you guessed it – his high school days!

Ok, so sure we all did great things in high school, but that was high school – move on! He had high aspirations and could talk you into sticking with him because between his 165 IQ, an amazing “business plan”, and all the love and devotion from a wealthy family, you were going places baby! Yep, I sure did! His inflated sense of self, no job, and a well rehearsed sales pitch that varied little over the years, left me firmly in debt, divorced, and shaking my head saying “What the hell just happened”? For the next seven years my pocketbook paid dearly for his “Legend”! Good times…

So what went wrong up there (referring to the paragraph/disaster) above? Was it that he was just a good sales person, a great orator, a great kisser, or was I just SO not a legend in my own mind that I allowed myself to live and be sheltered under his little umbrella of fantasy? I would say all of it. Hence the reason you will never see me walk down the isle with a salesman, no matter how they try to convince me otherwise! Lessons learned, but I tell you this story not so you feel sorry for me, trust me I am culpable as well in all this, but to show you the dangers of egos in a relationship.

Whether you have been a published writer, have an amazing body (by the way, bravo on that!), piercing blue eyes that send women to their knees, or were Senior Class President of 1983, absolutely none of that makes a bit of difference in the game of love. Yes, it’s fun to learn about the other person, but when you get all those great little stories out of your head and into their laps – please for the love of GOD – let it go!

I don’t care that you have 17 badges in your attic from Cub Scouts, or that your college thesis was published in blah, blah, blah journal. I don’t care, and quite frankly no one does. Legends are just that – things that either NEVER happened, have had their truth stretched so badly that silly putty looks orderly next to them, or happend so long ago that no one knows the truth. So, although you might be able to go on and on about what you used to be, used to do, used to have – the important thing in the relationship today is – What’cha got now? What’cha doing now to be amazing? What do you really want TODAY? And most importantly, do you have it? If not, how are you trying to get it?

So I challenge you today – take a look at your Linkedin, your Facebook, your resume, even your own Google search. How self serving does it become? Does it scream buzz words, with no substance? Do you have 100+ skills that no one can use in the 21st century? And on Linkedin or Facebook, how many real friends are on your “list”? Are these people you would have over for dinner, invite to the movies, or write a blank check for? When you examine it all (and please do it honestly) does it feel real, or are you making people believe in the “Legend” of you, because you really don’t believe in yourself?

I’m a linkedin girl (for the sake of actually linking in to real people that I actually know) and I’ve recently jumped on the Facebook bandwagon. The people who are part of my circle are people I’ve known for years. People I trust, and people I respect. Yes, networking is a great thing, and I’m all for it – but seriously, do you have 200+ “close and personal friends”? Or are you just a legend in your own mind?

Think about it.

Love,

Mel

Soul Searching

There’s a couple of ways to manuever that phrase – “Soul Searching”. You can go searching for your soulmate, or simply search for your own soul. Both can be pretty taxing and but one thing is certain. The latter is easier to find! That is if you are in touch with your inner self, or at the very least willing to go on an expedition, as it were. The other one… well let’s just say God has a sick sense of humor and sometimes your soulmate is thousands of miles away and the odds of finding them – ASTRONOMICAL!! I’m not a math major by any stretch, so I’ll just leave it at that.

But people will grab their backpacks, a couple bags of granola, and some bottled water and set out to find the soul that they’ve been missing. Adventure awaits, and with stars in their eyes, they pop on those rose colored glasses and head west (or east, or south, north… you get the idea). Of course they don’t literally pack their “gear” when they make the decision to find their true love, their best friend, their soul. Or do they?

Ok so what gear would you bring on this journey? For me, I’d bring paper and my trusty red pen. I’m a list maker, and I like to ask questions – lots of them. Ok, so what else could/would you bring? And, just so you know, I’m certainly not advocating you actually bring a pen and paper to a dinner or quick drinks at a local pub, I’m just saying it in the “What if you were stranded on a deserted island” scenario type question. I would also bring (if I was able) an open heart and an open mind. Sometimes people surprise you and however prepared you may be for an evening to go well or end in disaster, both can certainly happen. So be prepared and take a big gulp of that water bottle. Finding your true love requires hydration!

My journey has included looking for my soulmate and my own soul concurrently. Talk about work! Admittedly that hasn’t yielded a good outcome. I understand more than ever that the latter is the worthwhile journey above all else. Then when you feel on pretty solid ground the search for the prior will still be daunting, but on a OH SO MUCH clearer path.

My little one and I hike through trails not knowing really where we’re going. Most of the time that’s ok, I’m directionally challenged and he thinks he’s a wiz at reading the trail maps. We typically end up lost, but still have a great time. I smell for the lake and look for light between the trees to know my direction. I guess finding my soul or soulmate might be very similar. Trust my instincts – period.

I’ve not been a good “truster” of myself and of others. I think I have it under control, even when all the signs are there to run like hell. I stick it out considering there might be a different outcome and because I feel the need to fight or flight, might just be my own fears. What’s been glaringly apparent to me recently is my instincts are good, I’ve just got to learn to listen to them. And if my gut instincts are somehow attached to my soul, then I’ve got a pretty good system that I’ve been ignoring and not fueling with granola and all the other things a “search” needs to be successful.

What does your journey look like? If you are looking for your soul or your soulmate, how do you find your way through the forest of mindless banter, cheesy lines, captivating smiles, great writing, or just really good sales jobs? How do you find what’s truly meant to be yours? Are you willing to figure it out by searching your own soul? Spending some quality time with you to see what is inside? Does the fear of finding nothing propel you faster towards the next mile marker of life, or are you willing to get lost so you can be “found”?

I think I’m ready to be lost for a little while. I love where I am at, am excited about my new life and am hopeful that someday the soul that I am searching for finds me in this tiny little town. I do know that who ever that is, may or may not live in this quiet community. We have to be ready to put on our hiking boots, climb that mountain, if necessary, in order to reach the top of this adventure called life.

If at the top you find your soul, and your soulmate – my suggestion is simple. Sit down, take a sip out of your water bottle, and enjoy the amazing view!

Love,

Mel

Reality Checks

Sometimes you have to take step back and give yourself a reality check. I’ve been pinching myself for weeks at my recent luck and this weekend got a huge reality check. Sometimes your bubble can burst and things can change on a dime. Giving yourself the occasional reality check is sometimes the only way to “snap out of it”. Let me explain…

I had a pretty nice weekend planned with my son. The usual, unusual, and everything in between. We are in “adventure mode”, so much of our time is spent outdoors or on our way to somewhere outdoors! The unusual (and not in a good way) hit us squarely the face, against my best and most vocal efforts to thwart it. It was a huge reality check that my decisions, good and bad, affect him. This weekend he spent part of it in my room with the door shut while I dealt with my “reality check”, which included the town sherrif. It broke my heart, then it just pissed me off. I didn’t want this to change how we felt about our home and our lake house. No one and nothing had the right to taint this experience. So when it was all over, and I opened the windows to smell the freshly cut grass and hear the sounds of the birds in our backyard, I decided we were going to be exactly the same. I opened the garage, grabbed our bikes and off we went. Just like that. We were back on track.

I wondered how he would take it, being told to go to my room. He never even gets sent to his own room! He had no idea what was going on, but trusted me to take care of it. When I opened the door and saw him holding his best stuffed animal, I knew he needed me to explain. How could I? I had told him moving here would mean peace and quiet, no cops, no traffic, no crime and lots and lots of fresh air. A month later the town sherrif is at my house removing an unwelcome “visitor”. I told him Mommy had taken care of it, and I could see in his trusting eyes, he believes me. I hope to God I never see that look in his young eyes again. Sherrifs showing up at your lake house… doesn’t really fit the picture of peace and quiet does it? Understand my anger yet?

As the sun rose over the lake house I opened the curtains to greet the day. I felt oddly at peace but realized I was different. More cautious, not as safe as the weekend before. Something had changed and I was determined not to let it take over. We grabbed our sweaters, my trusty cup of coffee, walked to the lake, and watched the sunrise. His transformation has been amazing since we got here. He is so happy and peaceful now, he enjoys the smells, the sights and the sounds. It’s like watching him when he was a baby again. We are both “reborn”. As he cuddled in my arms on the pier and we talked of all the beauty around us, I realized – this is my reality check. Who ever shares this with us will have to be invited. It’s not for sale, or to be intruded upon at your own discretion.

It’s our reality, and we will be just fine.

Love,

Mel

Love Wins….

I’ve been given an assignment – homework, basically. Like I don’t have enough going on in my life at the moment, now I’m being tasked with deciphering “car code” on my commute. I’m determined to hand this one in on time. Did I ever in school? Well…. as long as none of my teachers can argue against it, then YES, I ALWAYS turned in my homework – and got 100% with a smiley face. Sure, you bet! Cause I’m diciplined like that!

So as the fog lifts over my tiny little town and my big ass Texas truck is winding it’s way to the highway, I smile at my new found game like a kid on a road trip, and begin making mental notes of car types to report to my friend later.

Suddenly a little tiny bumper sticker catches my eyes. It says – “Love Wins”. As a writer I consider that a complete sentence. Love Wins. I like the way it sounds, it would make a great name for my new boat (which I don’t have yet, but will look sweet behind my new truck!). But then… I think… Wins what exactly? And do I really care? Yes, I do, and off I go in my head to sort it out. I’ve got an hour in the car and all the people I love are sound asleep in another area code…so what else have I got to do?

It reminds me of the billboards I used to see all over Dallas (and maybe the country) from God himself.
They were short and sweet, like
“Hey, invite me to your marriage. Love, God” and,
“Let’s talk sometime, I’ve missed you. Love, God”.

Even if you weren’t a believer, it would be hard not to like the simplicty of the messages and relate to them on SOME level. So I liked the bumper sticker, and I liked it’s message. Simple, but VERY true.

Love does win, if it’s strong. Love is enough if it’s the best love around. Love is the most important thing in a relationship when all the other things like respect, intimacy, trust, and friendship are firmly in place. I like that love wins over the other options of Divorce, Infidelity, and Death. I put them in Caps, because none of them are options for me when I find the one I will “win” with.

Love should be victorious among everything in life we hope to accomplish in a relationship. If there were actually concious decisions about whether to live your life alone or live it with someone else, then love should definitely step in and win that argument. If you want to walk away without giving it any effort, love should kick your ass and say “NO WAY, not an option”.

But (BIG BUT, not BIG BUTT inserted here), love will ONLY EVER win when it’s real. When it’s true to the four little letters it is comprised of. And love CAN be a big compromise at times. Whether it’s travel with your job, geographical challenges (as in you live 1000 miles apart), school schedules, kid schedules, or other issues that keep the love alive, but away from the finish line. No matter what the obstacle, love has to be firmly in place and then all other issues feel like speed bumps not deal breakers. And you will be victorious with a shiny trophy to hold up in the air. The official “Love Wins” trophy. It’s pretty too. I’ve not actually ever seen it, but I’ve heard it’s worth it’s weight in gold.

So someone says they love you. What do you do? Test it? Smell it? Run away? How do you prove it’s real? I would have to say time, and a great deal of Googling. I’m only half kidding on the second part. I just googled someones name backwards. (try it, especially if they tell you to), it’s an eye opener. Am I saying it’s a deal breaker? Probably not if they told you to Google them. But if you want to win at love, and truly let love “win”, go ahead and type in the name of someone you love (or think you love) with the last letter first. If love comes in last…. there’s your answer.

Think about it.

Oh by the way, my homework assignment? I turned it in on time and the answer was Minivans. And the “Love Wins” sticker was indeed on the back of a Minivan…I wonder…

Love,
Mel

Bearing Your Soul – Do You Feel Naked Now?

*Reprint from June 2009*
Sometimes it’s hard to bear your soul, throwing yourself out there in any way always carries risk and can feel a little like lying down under a bus. You gain nothing by holding back who you are, repressing feelings, emotions or part of who you inherintly are, yet that bus part… Damn that things gonna hurt when it runs right over your heart! Will you survive? Seriously, how could you? But like watching that chick laying down under the bus, you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from the carnage. And just like her, you’re risking it all to see how it turns out. So under the bus or not, you’re in it whether you like it or not. It just seems a waste in the end if no one heard, saw, or witnessed your soul.

The whole month of May carried alot of risk for me. Going to work meant risking catching swine flu or being in the group that gets laid off. Going to my sons career day meant risking looking like an idiot in front of a room full of seven year olds, and the worst; having my promo shots done for my book and website www.fishing4loveonline.com It’s been a risky month and I’ve felt naked through most of it. Thank God it’s June!

I often do things that are ambitious, risky, or just plain stupid. I won’t explain which of the above fall into any of these categories. I will say however, that given the chance, I’d do them all over and probably exactly the same way. I don’t apologize for who I am, what I feel, or what choices I make. I constantly put myself out there because I feel life includes risks. Bearing your soul is a huge risk that not many will take. They live day to day and don’t “try on” new adventures, new relationships, new risks and therefore, are always “clothed”.

I had great clothes today, professional hair and makeup, and professional lighting that I hated. With all that I felt naked and vulnerable. If I so choose to put myself in that position (as I did today), I know that for a successful outcome to occur, I will have to dig deep, bear my soul and ask for more. Which is exactly what I did – and the photoshoot was a smashing success after we threw all the fancy lights out the window, grabbed a glass of Merlot and went outdoors.

The riskiest thing that occurred (this quarter!) in my life was bearing my soul to a man I’ve loved from afar for far too long. I decided to let it all on the line, and naked or not, I had to let him know where I stood and in what order of importance he was landing in my now totally exposed heart. OOOOPS!

I’ve never actually done that before and now I KNOW WHY! What did I actually expect? Well in the real world there would have been some justification for such a bold act. The feelings would have been returned, and it would have turned into exactly how I had rehearsed it in my head. OOOPS again! I guess you can probably tell, I didn’t get the stellar response I had hoped for. And guess what? I got NO response at all! He actually thought I was kidding! Could it possibly get any worse? EVIDENTLY YES! Feel free to wrap my pathethic little self in a virtual hug right now.

Well I slapped an imaginary band aid on the open wound of my soul, grabbed a big sweater to cover the whole thing up and ran to my bedroom and cried for about an hour. But when the tears subsided, and my arms could finally wrap themselves around what I had done, I realized that nothing about me had actually changed. I was still Mel, and still in love with myself. Even if he wasn’t, or couldn’t, the point was I had the courage to say what couldn’t wait another day. My days are always spent thinking of ways to make things better, enact change, or begin a new chapter in my life. How exactly is one supposed to accomplish that if they sit on the bench of life? Never get up, stand up – FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT?

There will surely come a day in your life when you will need to bear your soul. Ask for that raise, ask for someones hand, or just ask for a little bit of someones time because you are lonely, sad or scared. It’s hard to be vulnerable, hard to look someone in the eye and say “I need”, “I want”, “I miss” or “I love”. Taking the easy way out surely will mean a softer nights rest, a calmer soul, or an uncomplicated life. Or will it?

I bear my soul and accept responsiblity for the outcome. Easy? Hell no! Worth the risk? You bet! Try it… just once. And if your soul feels a little “naked”, then you are doing it right!

Love,

Mel

Destiny – Looking Forward to it Smacking You in the Face?

I was talking to a friend tonight about a recurring dream I’ve had for years. Its Christmas time, the snow is falling, storefronts are lovingly decorated for the season, and I’m strolling down a quaint Main Street sidewalk taking in the season while doing some last minute shopping. Suddenly, I drop half my packages onto the snow covered walk. As I lean over to pick them up, a large hand is reaching for the same bag. I look up to see the most beautiful smile staring down at me, “May I help you?” he asks. I giggle and say “Thank you”, then mumble something stupid, which he finds endearing and we strike up a conversation. It’s all very “Silver Screen”, isn’t it? Sappy, I know, but you have to admit it’s a good story line!

I share with my friend that the same sidewalk in my recurring dream is eeriely similar to one I recently walked down. I comment on what an odd coincidence it is and how wonderful it felt to finally see the street I was never sure existed. My friend wisely responds, “Everything happens for a reason, maybe it’s your destiny.”

I laugh, “Yes, but the reality is I will probably trip on some ice, hit my head, and he’ll have to drive me to the emergency room instead of the nearest pub for a nice glass of Merlot!”

It made me wonder about destiny. Has God been “holding out on me”? Or was He just saving the best part of my life for the last part of my life? Is destiny the same thing as fate? Is fate the some thing as Gods big plan for us? That’s really deep, isn’t it? I really don’t want to go into a philosophical discussion with everyone, so let’s keep it light and say, maybe….just maybe… it’s all just meant to be.

I had a job interview on the east coast about a year ago last spring. I was flying on a non-revenue pass old friend hooked me up with. I booked a wide open itinerary and my interview was scheduled the next morning. I was pumped, until seven hours later when I was still in the Austin Airport hearing that every flight until midnight was booked solid. I sat with my half eaten pretzel, a completely devoured self-help book on the power of positive thinking, and a new thumb ring that mimicked my mothers wedding band exactly, and weighed my options (which were few). I begged the ticket counter to put me on the next flight to Dallas and tail between legs, was ushered onto the 4:45. I cried for three days. A week later I lost my thumb ring. It was a bad month all around.

Fast forward: one year later. I’m sitting in an airport waiting for the departure of the flight that could change my life. I had given myself plenty of time so I strolled around the airport in search of coffee and a good magazine. I spied a cute little gift shop and headed straight toward the jewelry counter. Hanging neatly on a spinning jewelry rack was collection of silver rings and earrings. I quickly scanned it and gasped at my unbelievable luck. I grabbed the size 7 ring, slipped it on my thumb and uttered a huge sigh of relief. The very ring I had purchased on my last interview trip (and seemed to have eluded any Google or EBay search out there), was sitting sweetly on my thumb attached to a little piece of cardboard. I asked the cashier to wrap it up and explained the cost mattered little. After I explained what had happened a year ago almost to the day, she smiled and said “I think it was your destiny to find this ring today of all days!” It certainly was!

I know that destiny has taken its hand in my life in the last few weeks. I’ve asked myself why I am so lucky, and what took so damn long for it all to happen?

One of my biggest fans said something today that absolutely brought me to my knees. As I tell him I want my dream car, to go with the dream job, to go with the dream house that might eventually lead to that beautiful smile on the sidewalk, he looks at me and says, “Oh it’s going to be a hard day in your life when that bubble finally bursts!” I almost wept it hurt me so. How could someone not believe that things happen for a reason? Was he so jaded, so shallow, or so without faith, he didn’t believe in destiny?

So I challenge you to look for the signs of your own destiny. Speak softly, listen hard (even if it means putting your ear to the sidewalk to hear it coming), and keep your heart and mind open to all the possibilities as I have. If destiny calls, I would strongly suggest you answer the damn phone! Who knows if or when it will happen again.

By the way, I recently learned that there is an intricate underground water system which, during the winter months, pumps warm water under the very sidewalks I was hoping to slip on and meet Mr. Wonderful. Who cares! I believe in destiny and I take comfort in the fact that I can barely walk and chew gum!

Love,
Mel

Heartsongs

There’s a song for every relationship in our lives, isn’t there? We’ve made mix tapes to share our feelings, emailed lyrics (I get about one a week from my old high school sweetheart), and pop off mp3s to say in a song what our heart sometimes cannot.

A friend of mine at work recently dropped a strange looking device on my desk. “What do you want to listen to?” he asked boldly.

“Huh?” I said looking confused, giving him my signature sideways look.

“Any song in the world you want – it’s on there!”

“Really? How bout Red Rider – As Far as Siam?”

“Yep.”

“Kansas, Cheap Trick, Vivaldi?”

“Yes,” he says confidently. This game went on for a while until he just plugged it into my computer and off I went down memory lane. It was an unbelievable collection. I was overwhelmed but soon like a little kid at the five and dime, I went nuts cutting and pasting my candied past onto my hard drive.

Christopher Cross got me through my 8th grade summer. I fell in love with Nick Dalton, and he ditched me halfway through July for Tammy Bryce. What did he see in her that I didn’t have? I sent lots of notes through the summer pipeline, and got no response. He never knew that “Sailing” was our song, and I listened to it obsessively. When I hear it today, I can still see his blonde hair and amazing smile, and I long for that whole entire, torturous summer back.

My (other) high school sweetheart was the heartbreak of my life. We were together on and off for five years. Journey was at their heyday and hit after hit was streaming from the radio. They were golden and pulled on a teenagers heartstrings with ballads of love and devotion. “Faithfully” still chokes me up a little, but I think it has more to do with my ongoing crush on Steve Perry and little to do with the old boyfriend who I’ve heard is still a jerk after all these years!

Ever wonder what your song is? Does someone in this big wide world out there hear a song and think of you? What emotion does it emit from them? Does it bring a smile to their face or a tear to their eye? Did they ever share the song, or is this just a girl thing?

I have always wished someone would make me a mix tape (CD), send me some lyrics (besides my old boyfriend from high school, sorry Bob luv u!), or just let me know that everytime they hear a certain song, they think of me. A song that made them feel so good (or sad) inside that my face, voice, smile, or scent voyaged into their head as they were driving, mowing their yard, or kissing their children goodnight. What a compliment!

One of the songs I saved is called “Gravity” by Sara Bareilles. The words really remind me of someone, but her voice is so hauntingly beautiful that whether you can relate to the song or not, it’s bound to emit a reaction. I’d be leery of you if it didn’t!

If there is a heartsong with someones name on it, what good is it, if they never know it? My challenge to you today is this: Be cheesy, be bold, and send them the lyrics, an mp3, or a mix CD. I cannot imagine a better gift than the gift of song – from the heart.

Oh, and in case you were wondering if I am taking my own advice – see above.

Love,
Mel

Baby Steps and Taking Love Slow

I want to fall in love. I want to ski. I want to fall in love while skiing. Doesn’t that sound perfect? In reality, a lot of times you will find me sitting in the lodge drinking hot cocoa and warming my feet by the fire.

My marriage lasted less than a year. By Hollywood’s standards, it was a fairly long marriage. By real people’s standards, it was a disgrace. As disgraces go, it took four long years for me to get on the ski slope. The dating ski slope that is. I was petrified to strap on the boots, that went with the ski’s, that went with the snow, that went with the hill…. that went downhill! Dear God – what if I fell? Worse, what if I broke something like a leg or a heart?

Despite the constant cajoling of my best intentioned friends, I wouldn’t go anywhere near that slope. I got my way, as babies of the family often do, and sat contentedly in the lodge next to the fireplace warming my feet and drinking hot cocoa. After four years, my feet were burnt to a crisp and my head ached from the chocolate buzz.

There is a saying I use a lot due to my long battle with ADHD. It is this: “Break everything down into manageable components.” It’s brilliant for people like me with the attention span of a worm, but even more brilliant was what my friend said to get me on that ski slope: “Take baby steps.”

“Baby steps? Easy, peasy, right?” Sure, with the love and support from those around you, taking small steps to ease your way back into relationships is the best way to go. And it’s the smartest. I know they say get right back on that horse, but what if the horse broke a leg after he threw you twenty feet into the field and had to be put down? In all fairness, you might need to take some time to find the right horse to “jump” back onto. Ok, I know, I’m using a bunch of other people’s lines and not saying what you need to hear. My apologies.

My friend challenged me to baby steps and I took the bait. It required compassion and understanding for I needed help in finding ME again. She paid for my first dating service and for the next three months she was given total access to my profile and the men who were being matched with me. We had weekly meetings about the candidate’s pros/cons until I my feet felt more solid underneath me.

She was exactly what I needed. She held my hand when I got scared and pushed me ever so gently onto the bunny slope of love. I am forever grateful to have known a woman who saw so much potential in me, when I saw nothing in my reflection but that guy in the intro of Wide World of Sports tumbling off the ski jump in a tangle of poles and skis. Remember him?

I have a dear friend in my life who I adore. I’m pushing him ever so gently onto his own bunny slope of life and love again. It could go either way; he might resent the whole thing and hate me in the end. It’s a calculated risk, and one I am willing to take. I learned some tough lessons about not trying at all, and lost several years of my life sitting in that lodge. I know I may not ever know if I did the right thing asking him to take baby steps, but I do know I’d hate myself more if I didn’t try to “pay it forward.” There I go again; I really need to come up with my own lines! I’ll figure something out as I’m skiing down my slope. Stay tuned….

Love,
Mel

Keeping Your Memories

We will use anything to help us remember our past. Pictures, knick knacks, letters, emails; we’ve tons of this stuff in our attics, weighing down our hard drives, and overflowing in our garage. Just to help us remember. And we MUST remember – right? Of course, silly, if you have no past, you have no future. Or do you?

I have a past. Some of it’s really exciting. Some of it’s just hard to believe. Either way, it’s my past and I own it (I say in my most protective voice). I will share it with you, or not. Depends on my mood, my level of trust, or my desire to “let you in”. Yep, I’ve got walls. It’s like the Great Wall of China, solid in some places, crumbling in others. It’s exterior is my barrier to the future, it’s inside walls, the ones with the rickety staircase are where I hold my past. If you hold a key to unlocking it all, you would be in the minority. Many have tried, most have failed.

I have hardly anything from my childhood. A few scattered pictures, a birth certificate and an adorable picture of me in my pom pon uniform from the summer of 82. Most of the rest of it is gone. Thrown out during moves, torn up by jealous boyfriends, or stolen from storage rooms. I’ve moved alot in my life, running from my past, looking for the future I knew I deserved. With every move, more items were left behind, stacked in trash cans, or given to friends. Until there was little left of me – but the actual me. It felt good traveling light. Nothing to weigh me down, memories can be kept in your head, and that is where they stay.

I don’t retain everything either. I’m selective and like a lightswitch can be turned on and off at my discretion. If you are in my memory, it’s because you did something good, something memorable. If not, I discard you like the box of photos from the toga party on South Padre Island in 84. POOF! You’re gone. I know you’re there, and I’ll pull you out of my virtual vault if needed, otherwise, you are just the next thing getting smaller in my rear view mirror. It sounds cold, I know. As I read my own words I realize that makes me sound very unapproachable. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I’ve just learned that memories can take up space, and if I need you, I won’t put you in a box, I’ll hold you in my heart instead.

I met a man the other night that is a self proclaimed pack rat. We were doomed before the first drink, but had a lively discussion of memories and relationships nonetheless. I could hear in his voice as he told me of his vast collection of “stuff”, that they gave him comfort, and a link to the past. I couldn’t relate since I am a “live for the moment” kind of gal. I try never to look back or regret anything in my life. It all happened for a reason and although I have little physical proof of my exciting life, I imagine God is going to have one hell of a slide show for me when I get to the Pearly Gates. But it did make me wonder why things are so important to some, and not to others?

When my brother was dying, I rushed to California to say goodbye. His neighbors had invaded his house to prepare it for the onslaught of family members that would never understand the chaos their brother had lived in for so many years. They cleaned, tossed and literally made a “path” for us to walk through. I was overwhelmed with it all. For someone who kept nothing, I was standing in the middle of a 2000 square foot ranch house full of EVERYTHING in the world – or so it seemed. When the house grew quite and all had left for lawyers offices, funeral homes, and the store to stock up on supplies for the wake, I spent some quality time with my brother Danny’s “memories”. I touched every model airplane, opened his cupboards, closets and fridge. I was in awe as I opened box after box of car magazines (some from our high school days), thousands of negatives, and slides, and realized for everything I had tossed, someone like my brother had kept. It became a mess for the family but a time capsule for him, a way for us to remember him; to understand, explore and discover the beautiful mind of a man who was literally imprisoned in his own memories. It was impossible not to be touched and brought to tears by it all.

I have a new adventure that is taking up most of my thoughts right now and my little one is wanting to preserve it all somehow and share it with friends and family. I have promised him I will get him a video camera and take photos of the upcoming events that will likely change our lives forever. I will get the camera for him, I respect and appreciate that he might want to keep his memories.

Oh, and that man I met – he texted me later that night asking for a picture. I told him to learn to trust his memory. For me – my memories will stay somewhere that needs less space – my heart.

Love,
Mel