I...Me...My...

I am spending the weekend...with a good friend...I am answering the questions of another...and I have someone very special...in my life...who is dealing with something...very personal...and painful...and I am trying desperately...to express my willingness to focus...on their needs...at a moments notice...

I tried...several times...to write the text...that would express my every thought...that would give them space...and let them know that I am lying in wait...for anything they need...that my thoughts are with them...that I find nothing more important...than being there...for them...I asked my good friend...if I was wording my thoughts...in a way...that spoke beyond...I questioned her thoughts...I countered her arguments...and then I scrubbed everything...as I worked through my fears and frustrations...of expressing my feelings...and having them understood...

I pondered...what needed to be said...I rewrote the text...I read it out loud...and then silently...I stared at my phone...me...a writer...I wanted to say the just right words...I erased...I re-wrote...I read it out loud...again...then I sent it...and stared at my phone again...I wondered...was this appropriate...was I too intrusive...had I said everything I needed to...would they understand all...that I could not say...

As I scrubbed my bathroom...after my kitchen...I thought...how much of my evening...had been thinking about them...that person struggling...in pain...and...I began...by counting the times that I say I...in all of my conversations...all the moments...that I place myself...in the center of situations...where I can be the center...where I worry...about another's reactions...not because I want them to be most comfortable ...but because...I worry about their response to me...

I realized...that I was irrefutably...embarrassed to be me...that all my intentions...were in need of questioning...and that I...although...I could point a finger...at my childhood...raising myself...fighting to survive...then surviving...and fighting to blend...to be more...to be heard...to make a difference...to leave my mark...that no matter the results...I had no one to blame...but me...

I wondered...how much of our reaching out to others...was really about us...the simple act...of one person...laying their hand in the hand of another...starts with us...so...how much is about someone else...when they are quietly wrestling...with...anything...and we know this...how do we drop our needs...how do we offer everything to another...and not insert...ourselves...into the prominent portion...of the equation...

Maybe we can't...maybe that is the twist in life...we reach out for others...and it's really about us...Maybe that's why English teachers...stop us...from using the words...I...me...my...from essays...and people create bumper stickers that say...I care about this because...or if I need your opinion I'll give it to you...Maybe this is why Emily Post has to write books...about courtesy...and others shake there heads...over our faux pas...as they talk about the correct way they handle things...

And...through all this...my special someone...is struggling...to figure how they will deal...with what matters to them most...and...I can't stop counting...as I read this piece...how many times...that I have said...

I...me...my...

Your Kind of Crazy...

For the past few years...I have been attempting...trying...to reconstruct my life...sometimes haphazardly...sometimes desperately...my efforts could be compared to ripping open a goose down pillow in hurricane force winds...and...then collecting all the individual feathers...good luck to me...With each effort...friends...family...and random passersby have commented...you're crazy...crazy for this...crazy for that...crazy for the other thing...mentally...I gave them the finger...and kept at it...my business...

Thrown back into the dating world...not my area of comfort...became a system of hanging my dirty laundry out...for the world to see...specifically a line of potential suitors...and although their briefs and boxers sported rips...tears...and skid marks...hanging on their line...I found myself hunkering down...as they pointed at me...and said...you're crazy...for this...for that...for the other thing...

There must have been a moment...when my sensitivity...my hope...my idealism...was kicked to the curb...and my feelings stopped...well...feeling hurt...and I began winning the race to point a finger...I sharpened my razor tongue...so that when I said...you're crazy...and said it first...the receiver would limp away...hand clamped...to the gushing gash I inflicted...that way...when I put my foot on their...uh...bottom...and pushed...they would easily fall...

Recently...I have found myself in debates over crazy...you keep everything...well...you throw everything away...you collect crap...oh yeah...you have junk...you leave yours out...you have to put yours away...you chose pursuing dreams over working 9-5...you work 9-5...and don't pursue your dreams...you think you can do anything...and everything...you are too old...you are too young...you don't do enough...you do too much...you don't say enough...you say too much...all of it attached to...crazy...crazy...crazy...

Yesterday...I tore someone down...I mean down...I let them know...just how and why...they were crazy...I mapped out their craziness...drew diagrams...of how they got there...and handed them a fresh pamphlet...so they could work on...fixing their crazy...and then brushed my mental hands...in satisfaction...as they stood in silence...and then they said...you are so smart...brilliant...beautiful...you do things that help others...you are talented...and at the same time...you are mean...you have an attitude...don't you think that is crazy...I stood in silence...

I asked myself...why I had started to care...care about who was crazy...and why...when did I take that turn...turning my back...on the wonderful crazy things about me...on the beauty...that I have always been able to find in others...and the acceptance...that has been my saving grace...so that I can forgive...so that I can try...again and again...so that I can love...unconditionally...and then I said...you're right...it is crazy...the wrong kind...

So...when I came home this morning...from running my errands...that we're so important to me...and I mumbled about the woman across the street...who doesn't say hi back...the cop who stops me on the corner...once a week...to tell me I'm speeding...when I'm driving 20 miles per hour...my beautiful roommate...who leaves a trail behind her...all through the house...just as I whispered...this is crazy...I looked down at my hands...realizing that I had entered the house...dropped my purse...moved straight to the stove...and began scrubbing...and then I laughed...hysterically...blue gloves and all...head in the oven...this was crazy...and who cares...

It was in the fumes and grime...that my true epiphany came...we're all crazy...every single damn one of us...we all have quirks...dirty laundry...say inappropriate things...don't care about important things...because we all find importance...in different things...we don't listen to some things...and cling to others...we laugh when we're not supposed to...we harbor resentments...and dreams...we risk our dignity on things...people...situations...and hide in fear...because of others...

Isn't it odd...we are so busy scrubbing the oven...instead of eating lunch...and pointing our fingers...to distract...from our own behaviors...we don't bother...to ask ourselves...whether we should be telling someone...you're kind of crazy...or saying to ourselves...this is...

your kind of crazy...

When the Tables Turn...

I was a little girl...when my grandfather taught me...the ins and outs of setting a table...There were right ways...and wrong ways...The spacing had to be un-crowded...the knives had to be turned blade to the plate...so you wouldn't be cut...the smaller...more petite came first...and the bigger pieces...responsible for the true nourishment...were meant to be second...and were less attractive...Most important...every item...needed to know its place...and if you placed anything wrong...everyone would be embarrassed for you...I was stressed...beyond belief...

My sense of responsibility...for even the smallest thing...will keep me awake nights...I know I seem cool...calm...and relaxed...but that's only from years of deep breathing...and mastering the art of keeping my lip from trembling...To make matters worse...I tend to be intuitive...I can sense displeasure...disappointment...or a drop in confidence...it's like being a living thermometer...and so I work...tirelessly...to maintain a temperate climate...and balance within myself...You can imagine my...hmmm...what's the word...fear...when I realized that I am beginning to...experience the first signs of...what will one day be dementia...

My aunt has it...she is the shell of the woman that I remember...brilliant and fiery...spoke two languages...traveled...and pushed everyone's buttons...she now struggles to push the right buttons on the phone...speaks a language no one understands...and travels only in her nightgown now...from room to room...

When I was a child...I suffered several serious head injuries...some from accidents...and some from "accidents"...as I grew older...I garnered a couple more...I relearned how to write...how to process information...how to focus...how to make it through migraines...how to pretend that my thinking wasn't stuck...how to cover when I couldn't pretend...and how to embrace my weaknesses...and let my gifts...my talents grow...to fill in the synaptic glitches...

As I stood in the kitchen tonight...in my mid 40's...staring at the dish soap...knowing I needed to do something with it...and my eyes darted...from the water to the bottle...and back...three times before I connected everything...I realized that I'm scared...Right now...it's little things...small details...but will there come a day...I know...that I will lose...faces...words...actions...memories...

I don't know...if I can write fast enough...love enough...see enough...break enough rules...laugh enough or loud enough...Are there really enough jokes...stories...friends...lovers...sunrises...or sunsets...children to play with...or kittens and puppies...that I won't feel pain...when they are not in the proper place...in my mind...

I suppose...that after a lifetime...of keeping everything in its proper place...maybe it is time...to mix it up a bit...maybe go to the mailbox...in my nightgown...or wear mismatched outfits...or dip Oreos in Gatorade...so that when I start to believe this is appropriate...no one will see that I've changed...Maybe...its okay...for the table to remain unset...to just toss the forks in the middle...and let everyone else figure out where they go...Maybe the things...that we tell ourselves are important...like dining etiquette...doesn't matter...in the grand scheme of things...I imagine...that when my mind...is no longer my own...getting things right might be a concern...but then...if I just focus on living...maybe I won't notice...when I can't remember anymore...

When the tables turn...

Take a Chance on Me....

We all have our favorite musical artists...the ones we tell everyone about...and the ones that we keep to ourselves... Mine...ABBA...When friends discover my addiction...the jokes are endless...I laugh...but I still listen to them.  Ironically...I pulled them up on Pandora...and my favorite song of theirs immediately began playing...They sang...in perfect harmony...begging for another to give them a chance...to believe in them...As I swayed...yes...swayed to the beat...I thought about my writing this week...about taking chances...risking...the theme...mistakes...

Oh my...my mistakes have been plentiful...gargantuan...epic...Some of them are the making of screenplays...some should just be buried in a flower garden...Many of them...were short lived...and some will haunt me until the day I die...but I am nothing...if not consistent...so I will continue to make mistakes...hopefully...each one only once...

If look deeper at my lifetime of foibles...as I have this week...here's what I find...I believe in others...their resiliency...their potential...and their ability to correct the path they are on...I have believed in thousands...my clients...my co workers...my government...my family...my lovers...and my friends...there is only one person that I rarely give a chance...or room for mistakes...me...

I look back over a lifetime of opportunities...that I have passed on...because I didn't believe that I was capable of achievement...If I were my own parent...which I have been much of my life...I would be that mother who says...don't even try...you will fail...Firm...to the point...and unyielding...in my belief...that I shouldn't believe in me...

My risk taking has been cleverly disguised as belief in others...as if...I were trying to trick myself...so that I wouldn't discover my own attempts...at something new...I can persuade others to believe in me...my outside the box ideas...and then promptly...go home and throw up...Years of migraines...heartburn...sleepless nights...and tears have plagued me...and my reaching out to...myself...While others sang my praises...I hung my head...positive...that I would be found out...for the fraud I believed myself to be...

It took losing everything...I mean everything...to not care anymore...what I had to say about me...What's the worst that could happen...that I wouldn't be my friend anymore...Here's the bigger question...had I ever...When was the last time...I was a good friend to myself...In a lifetime of experiences...for every hundred that I offered others...I offered one to me...always with loopholes...and conditions...and the prodding of a friend...

So...where does this leave me now...Hello...my name is Mickie...Hello Mickie...It's been three months...since I last didn't believe in myself...Tell me your story...I'm taking this day by day...sometimes I need support...but I know I'll make it...I just have to...

take a chance on me...