Solo

I am ending a long term relationship in the next few weeks. The "K" who this blog was started for, sort of, is my psychotherapist. Took many years to be able to admit to being 'in therapy' but I have been for a long time. And honestly thought I would be for a long time to come.

But at some point (and for me, personally, I hit this point in the past couple months), the therapy starts to be 'not needed'. I know who I am. Warts and all. I know the things that push my buttons and the buttons that exist. And while spending time with K. on a monthly basis is comfortable and something I will miss, at some point, I just have to realize that I am who I am - basically a loner, married w/ 2 kids; filled with angst [at times]; and regrets [at times]. But we all are. That's life.

I'm learning and practicing to not 'dwell' on things I can't change. Simple but for me, practicing that daily is something I have to work on. I'm learning to 'let go'. I have a lot of 'life crap' - I know that sounds bad and it isn't anything horrificly tragic like abuse or anything like that - but I didn't have a stellar childhood. And trying to convince myself that I did because that's what I wanted to believe didn't work. And it didn't work for A LOT OF YEARS. K. helped me get the 'not so great-ness' of my childhood defined and 'out there'. And when you understand what wasn't so great about it, and why, and start to learn to 'deal' with it, it helps.

So I'm moving on. Leaving the door open if needed in the future. If some major life-event turns me on my ear again (as the birth of my first child did oh so many years ago). But I'm giving up the 'someone to talk to' - the arbitrary third party who only knows my side of the stories. Heading out into the great 'unknown' - a world of marriage and life without therapy. I'm strangely exhilarated about it.

K. is one of my best friends. Truly. A friend you don't see socially and never will. A friend you don't exchange Christmas cards with and never will. A friend who I honestly know very little about. But 'friend' is the only word to describe her. And this friend changed my life for the better in so many zillions of ways that it is impossible to put into words. And that says a lot 'cuz anyone who knows me knows I don't have trouble speaking up. I owe that to K., also. After years of being voiceless, I found mine and she's responsible for that.

I ask K. sometimes why/how she does what she does - spends hours listening to people moan and groan about life. She said 'because people get better'. I am living proof of that. I consider myself a shining example of her expertise and I'm proud to be that.

Thanks, K., for everything. See you for our 'bon voyage' session in a couple weeks.

Compilations

I'm listening more and more to 'soundtrack' CDs. Most TV shows have them lately - and I just love them. Current favorites are: Grey's Anatomy (TV show), In Good Company (movie), Providence (TV show). I love the music - so eclectic. The kind of songs I usually end up buying an album for only to discover I like one or two tracks. Lots of not-often-heard artists who don't get airplay in the 'Clear Channel' world of playing only commercial songs by big name artists.

Music has always been my outlet. I find songs that say something to me and I listen to them over and over. AND OVER. Thanks to iPod, I can now keep my repeats to myself and not make everyone around me crazy listening to the same piece constantly.

J. listens to the beat and the music. I listen to the words. We had a heck of a time finding the perfect 'first dance' song at our wedding - but finally settled on a little known Beach Boys song - J. loved the musicality of it and I loved the lyrics. We were about to pick some instrumental piece just to have something to dance to - and then we were listening to a tape in the car and suddenly, there it was. A tape we'd listened to dozens of times before - but suddenly, this one song was 'it'. And we both realized it at the same time.

Where I Belong

I've spent my whole life drifting
Towards an elusive sun
I would have wandered forever
If your breeze hadn't come
And you just could be my anchor
You are my northern star
That navigates me home

Don't need to search no more exotic islands
No that I found you're right where I belong
Never been so much at home as I am
Loving you is right where I belong

In my mind we're together
Even when I'm alone
My heart leaves you never
Never will our love grow old
My destination forever
You are my shining star that navigates me home

Don't need to search no more exotic islands
Now that I found you're right where I belong
Never been as much at home as I am
Loving you is right where I belong


Still feel that way, after all these years.

Fans

I moved to Northern California in late April, 1984. I had just graduated from college and had been selected for a training program in the finance department of Mervyn's. The opportunity was so wonderful and I was so lucky/honored to be chosen. After the day of interviews, I 'had a feeling' I would be selected and took a newspaper on the plane with me and started looking for apartments.

I moved the last week of April - a moving van took most of my household things and I packed everything else I could fit into my Toyota Tercel and headed north. I left Southern California where I had family and zillions of friends to move to Hayward, California where I knew NO ONE. Not a soul. It was scary. And exhilarating. And one of the few times in my life when I felt I was being 'led' somewhere by a power greater than me. I just knew it was the right thing to do and had no doubts about doing it. The same could not be said for most of the people I left behind - but there wasn't much they could do. The opportunity to be one of a very few people invited to leave the 'store' environment and move into the corporate environment was too amazing to pass up.

The drive up was uneventful. I stopped when I felt like it. Didn't feel worried or unsafe. My car was loaded to the top with stuff I would need to live in a motel for a few weeks until my apartment was ready. And all my plants, my guitar, etc. It took all day to make the drive.

When I approached the I-5/580 interchange and headed west, I passed 'Fan Forest'. At the time, it was just the 'Altamont Pass' - and frankly, it creeped me out. It was hills full of whirling, twirling, twisting fans of all sorts of shapes and sizes 'capturing' the power of the wind. I thought 'wow, this place is pretty strange'. I didn't like that stretch of the drive and hurried through it as quickly as possible. It was the first time in the adventure of getting and taking and actually moving up north that I was 'nervous'. Felt a little overwhelmed at that point, 40 miles from my destination and a long way from 'home'.

I've lived in Northern California (now technically the central valley but still 'northern' to me) since and now pass the Altamont daily - I commute to and from work through it. And it is now the 'Fan Forest' - a name given to it by B. when he was little. It was one of the landmarks on the map we drew for him of the route we took to get to Grandma and Grandpa's house in Visalia - and he called it the 'Fan Forest'. I now love that stretch of the road - partly because I always think of B. when I drive through it. And because it leads to home. Our home, which is the place I most want to be. It's strangely beautiful to me now - the way the sky looks as you look through the windmills; the clouds vs. blue sky in contrast to the rotating blades; the sound of the blades whistling through the air. It's amazing to me now. I wouldn't feel that way if it weren't for B. and for my life here. It's a reminder to me how full my life is now compared to way back when.

I think God knew what He was doing when he 'led' me here. It's where I was meant to be.