Bits
Disappearing Act. The question has been pestering me. It's the question involving 'Showing Up'. There are times when I find showing up easy, or essential to life, or the hardest part of my year. On the other hand, when I fail to show up, there is always the responsibility of answering the question: “Why?” I either build a story line that supports my decision, an alibi to justify my absence, or I may go dark into invisibility mode for a short time to figure it out. Living between the walls of my life used to feel comfortable but not any more.
So why do people choose to show up?
And why do people choose to not show up?
I understand there are times when it is physically impossible. But how about in times where it is emotionally impossible? Let me tell a story.
'I travel to other worlds, and back again daily.' #Ginger the Brave
Bridles
My Tilted Sister. We sort of looked alike and people started calling us sisters. I had no idea however that we had so much in common besides our looks, our age, our artist lives, wild free spirits, and strong commitment to recovery. But there was more.
Bella is the sort of person that you want to sit next to. She's quiet and her smile is sunshine. When she laughs its from the belly. She has a madcap and zany air about her. I liked her at first sight.
We became close friends. Our little community of recovering women was a joy. We shared our life issues, relationship worries, triumphs, life goals and lessons, and shared a love for lattes. Our friendship was a plus on the road of life where everything else had a minus.
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Bella and I quickly coined the term 'Tilted Sisters' after discovering we shared the path of overcoming bulimia. What a wonder to find someone else who had fought the demons and successfully won! We both had experienced the graduation from life-threatening Anorexia into a long, treacherous road of years of active bulimia.
And then Bella was struck with cancer. She had just moved into her new stain glass art studio. She was ecstatic in starting her art life dream. Our little group of women rallied around her. But the months passed and she became more frail and we feared the worse.
My daughter was nearly 4 and loved Bella. My daughter would often sit on her lap at meetings. Bella became so sick she was confined to her home. The group of women would share with me all the details of her struggle and her incredible intrepid spirit. And they brought meetings to her and invited me to join them. But I just could not bring myself to go.
My mother had passed from cancer the previous year. Bella's fight with cancer brought it all back to me in losing my mother and I re-felt the deep maw of grief. I was losing my tilted sister. So, I hid. I hid because I did not want to have to see the look on her face, the look of knowing that would be in her eyes that parting was near. And it's so final. I didn't want to look in a casket at a lifeless form that resembled someone I love, but somehow was not, and what was now isn't.
I did not show up to Bella's funeral. The other women said they understood. And I know they did. It's been years and there has never been any question about my disappearing act. Everyone said they understood.
I am beginning to understand now. I didn't show up to see Bella as sick and dying Bella. I wanted to remember her as the vibrant, red-haired, madcap artist, my tilted sister. By barricading myself from the reality of her dying, I would not feel the pain of grief that broke my heart when my mother died.
Becoming real opens new doorways on a journey that continually shines more light.
I had stood at the kitchen window after my father's call at 7:20 a.m. to inform me of my mother's passing. I stared at the sky all day, stricken with a strange emptiness inside. Can it be true? And then came the ruby skies sunset over the ocean sky, a magnificent scarlet, my mother's favorite color and deep fire oranges and pinks and purples stretching across the entire heavens from north to south and straight out to the western horizon. I had never seen such a brilliant sunset! I called it ‘Irene's Sky’ and thanked God for the incredible gift of color. I watched until all light faded to black night sky. I cried until I could cry no more. It was the last day my mother and I shared earth. God was right there with me.
'I Live Straight as an Arrow.' #Ginger the Brave
Drop The Reins
All In. The red cover of' 'Atlas of the Heart' by author Brené Brown has opened. I have filled the introduction pages with metallic gold and red highlight icons. Symbols of what is resonating with me. My daughter asks for a hardcover copy as well.
In time and in change, one finds forgiveness. I am a different person. I show up for the hard things in life. I don't turn my eyes away from suffering or heartache. I am in life: All In, ALL THE WAY TO THE DEEP END, as my friend Matthew West sings. Let me tell you the story.
I BECAME A VIP. I was scrolling through events on Facebook one night. I saw an event called The Roadshow 2019. I scrolled through the comments and I saw one that said 'giving away a free pass'. The replies all were moaning that there was only one pass not two. O.K. So I replied I'd be grateful for one pass if it was still available. It was and I received the info how to claim it!
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I experienced an incredible event because I showed up. By myself to the Taco Bell Arena in Boise, Idaho. By myself parking my car near the the VIP entrance. I just showed up on a dare I made with myself. In a God-incident (I don't believe in co-incidences) I met Matthew West at the Roadshow 2019 on a gifted VIP pass. And Michael W. Smith (who gave me a very nice compliment). The Big Michael and the Little Michael they call each other. Amazing!
I started showing up other places. I showed up for swimming lessons at Boise State to face my fear of water. It was unbelievably fun and I met other people who were nervous and afraid as well. We splashed our way with out floaters to the deep end and back many times.
I Run With Horses. Then I showed up to Kaizen Farm Riding Stables and I began to face my fear of horses and start my dream of becoming a horsewoman, like my mother. I started by learning to clean stalls, groom my lesson horse, respect spaces, and show up for lessons regularly. I was told the lessons were as important for me as for the horse. The horses needed me as much as I needed them.
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This past December, my riding instructor and beautiful horsewoman (the owner of Kaizen Farm) lost her battle with cancer. I showed up for her celebration of life in spirit. I am just fine with my choice.
My mother, my riding instructor, and I have a date to meet in Heaven's Stables where the War Horses are. There we will meet again ~ God willing.
'I Know There Are Horses In Heaven.' #Ginger the Brave
I will show up.