My next six months

Next Six Months Bipolar Mom Life

Doesn’t it feel like we were just taking down the holiday lights and other decorations, pine needles all over the carpet in the family room? This year Thanksgiving and Christmas seemed to zoom by before I could catch my breath or even begin to finish getting ready.

Life is careening by in an instant.

My husband’s theory on the passing of time rings more true every year. He believes that when you’re four, a year is a really, really long time because it’s a quarter of your total life. Days and weeks seem long. But as we get older, as in forty years old, a year is only 2.5% of our life so it rushes by faster than a year at the age of four.

I’m glad I have a few more years to go before forty.

Typing this out sounds funny, but I do believe as we get older time passes faster. I guess that’s why it made sense to me when I read something posted by a writer I admire. She said that when people who have terminal illnesses reach the end they say it felt like life was only 6 months long. She suggested we all live as though we have 6 months to live. My IG scrolling stopped on her post and I thought about my husband’s time theory.

It hit home.

January just came and went. If I sit and think about the next six months and what I want them to look like, this is what I see:

More hugs, more kisses, more snuggles.

I want to go to bed earlier and wake up to see more sunrises.

No more hesitating when I think of a friend and want to call. I want more intimate conversations and less texting.

Date nights with my love and girl’s nights with my girlfriends.

Reading extra bedtime stories to my littles.

A 4-day mini-vacation with my husband to someplace warm and tropical.

Writing letters of appreciation to my family, especially my beautiful Grandma who turns 91 next week.

Dessert when I’m craving chocolate.

A glass of expensive red wine with my best friend who will help me talk it out when I’ve had a shitty day.

More writing with my flowy pen and favorite notebooks and less scrolling social media in boredom.

Time to walk and breathe in the fresh air, appreciate the beauty of nature surrounding me, and allow myself to learn how to meditate.

Listening with focus to new stories and developing new friendships that are built on trust and shared experiences.

More writing, less editing.

What do your next six months look like?

A Different Path

A-Different-PathPhoto Credit: Zach Dischner via Compfight cc

Some may say I took the easy path to becoming a writer. The cowardly path. I was too scared to follow my dreams as an undergrad, so I took the safe route. I found a job, got married young, started a family five years later and now that I have the stability of a loving, supportive husband who has a stable job that pays well, I have the ability to be an artist. I’m not arguing this because it’s true.

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t scary at times. We settled in an area of the country where it’s very difficult to make ends meet on one income. Artists don’t become artists for the money. They do it because there is an innate drive living inside their hearts which compels them to keep creating and sharing their work. The hope is that one day, the compensation will follow. All things considered, my husband and I are more savers than we are spenders. Our idea of a splurge is taking a couples vacation to Mexico for our 10-year anniversary. Lucky for us both sets of parents jump at the chance to watch their grandkids for a week.

So yes, I feel very fortunate to be able to write and stay home with my kids while they’re young. I see each day just how fast this time is passing. Which is funny because I’m simultaneously sad about their “baby” years almost being over and {maybe a little too} eager for their school years to begin. I anticipate long, quiet stretches of six hours a day where I can devote some serious time to our newly-formed non-profit and all the exciting projects my partner and I keep dreaming up. And then there’s the memoir that’s relentlessly floating around in my mind. I want to plan and write and get it all out on paper so that I can re-work, re-write and re-organize the thoughts from my early struggles with my illness, still so vivid in my subconscious.

These days I see clearly the path which I’ve found myself peddling on, a steady pace keeping me in shape for the hills ahead. This path is one on which I eventually tell my whole story, hopefully encouraging people from all walks of life to be brave and stand up for what they believe in but are too afraid to say out loud.

sunrise

Planning the Future and Enjoying the Journey

planning-future-enjoying-journeyPhoto Credit: Johan J.Ingles-Le Nobel via Compfight cc

It can be almost dizzying to have to plan for what’s ahead, but yet keep your focus at the same time on the daily details that actually may make the future happen.

There is so much written lately about staying “in the moment” and how we need to remember to cherish the everyday little events that happen to us rather than spend all our time anticipating the next big thing: graduating college, getting married, buying a house, having kids, etc, etc. I even wrote recently about how the swift tick of the clock changed me when reflecting on my daughter’s hospitalization for Kawasaki disease.

I agree wholeheartedly with this concept of fully enjoying the time in our lives that falls in-between those major life events. But things also change when you’re planting seeds. You have to set long-term goals. Write strategic plans. Manage expectations of your backers.

Because success is on the line. [Read more…]

We All Got Bruises

You know what I love about blogging? I love getting a chance to read a glimpse of a stranger’s life. I love when someone opens their heart and pours everything out, showing you that they are just as human as you are. The incredible thing about living your life out loud, for the world to read, is that people connect with you. You get to know them. You connect with them. Pretty soon you’re no longer strangers, you’re friends. And if you’re lucky, you get to meet them one day.

You might just become friends for life.

We all have bruises, they’re what make us interesting. How boring would life be if it was all roses and sunshine every day? It’s comforting to know that we’re not alone in our struggles. Whether it be mental illness, alcoholism, financial troubles, parenting issues, divorce, the death of a child, or countless other curve balls life throws at us. We all have obstacles to overcome in our lives.

Music is healing for me and of all the things it’s done for me, the most important lesson it has taught me is easily, “What will be, will be” and I need to put my trust in fate.

If a song speaks to me, I play it on repeat for weeks. I lose myself in the lyrics and belt the tune out while driving to the farm or the grocery story. I used to be drawn to pop hits produced by music giants whose record labels end up writing the songs for them, pumping beats into the background of the synthesized dance tracks. These days I’m much more into singer/songwriters who tell a life story through their music. The kind of songs which make the hair stand up on the back of your neck, giving you goosebumps as you listen to the words.

You feel yourself nodding, “Me too,” as your soul soaks in the sweet melody. A good song gives me a new perspective on my troubles.

I’ve got Train’s newest album, California 37, on a loop lately.

These bruises make for better conversation
Loses the vibe that separates
It’s good to let you in again
You’re not alone in how you’ve been
Everybody loses, we all got bruises
We all got bruises

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LmXaaEvnnOQ&w=560&h=315]

I’ve been a little overwhelmed by life lately. Wanting to pursue my dreams, but realizing that writing doesn’t exactly pay the bills {at least, not yet}.

A lump formed in my throat the other day when looking at finances. It was obvious that I need to pick up a part-time job. We live in one of the most expensive areas in the US, and the reality is that it’s really hard to cut it on one income. So I had a rough couple of days last week when Ben was traveling for work, filled with fear and self-pity and hugging my best friend while tears poured from my eyes, the kids looking up at me wondering what was wrong with mommy.

Once I calmed down and started to look at things with a clearer head, I quickly realized that things aren’t nearly as dire as I had thought. I was talking with my brother over the weekend about what was bringing me down and he told me to call one of our oldest friends who was looking for help with his business. It’s the type of work I’ll be able to do around the kids’ schedules, allowing me time to continue with my writing projects, exactly what I need right now.

Part of the reason I was so upset last week was because I was afraid that I’d have to give up writing to go back to work, and my heart was breaking at the thought of having to stop pursuing my passion. Sure, I’d still try to write in the evenings, but I know how hard it is to juggle everything and at the end of the day you’re just exhausted. I’m hopeful that this situation will provide the best of both worlds: the income we need with time to still pursue my dreams.

In the meantime, it’s songs like this that remind me to embrace the ups and downs of life for what they are.

Que sera. {What will be, will be.}
 
We-All-Got-Bruises