It's good to be back....

So....my dear, poor neglected blog. I am back to populate you with words & thoughts and show you a little love. You're a little droopy and forlorn, but we'll get you back in shape in no time.
Yeah, I've been absent. 2013 wrapped wretchedly; my father passed in the wee hours of September 9th of Myelofibrosis with myself, my sister and my mother at his side. It was difficult, as death is, but not unexpected. My own grief took a long time to grapple with, but as someone who does process work for a living, I continually do my own work as well.

The grief counseling I did prior to my father's passing, and the grief counseling I did following it--as well as regular attendance at the Kaiser Hospice Bereavement Group helped me enormously. There is real comfort in being with a group of people who know and understand loss.

Unfortunately, a week and a half after the memorial service, just as I was preparing to resume my life as a Higher Education coach at InsideTrack, my mother's heart went into A-fib and threw off a clot which lodged in her upper left thigh, resulting in a transfemoral (above-knee) amputation of her left leg.

To say I was in shock was an understatement. Perhaps at some point I will publish the personal essay I composed about that whole transitional period of my life.

Long story short, my mother has exceptional coping skills, has done a lot of work on herself, and is incredibly resilient. Today, after months in a rehabilitative skilled nursing facility, she is back at home, has a prosthetic, and recently walked up and down a 24-stair flight (required by her physical therapist, who doesn't take no for an answer). She is just as poised and elegant and put together as she was prior to losing her leg. And she laughs when she's referred to as a gimp.

We have all adjusted. Life throws you curveballs, and either you acknowledge 'em, or get pretty brutally slammed in the face. Or both. But life doesn't stop when stuff happens. It really is what we do with it all that counts.
And of course, recovery tools were my friend during all this--the slogan, "One Day at a Time" has never been more pertinent.
So I'm back, my blog is back, and just because my cats were such a comfort to me during all that loss and transition, I'm including a picture of them here, lounging on their various trees (Abby is the big girl, Audrey is staring into the camera).
Yeah. It's good to be back.

Better Late than Never...

...or a few thoughts on being a Late Bloomer.

We've turned the corner from Winter into Spring (though in the Pacific NW, Spring really DOES come in like the proverbial lion--and I'm hoping it will go out quietly, smoothly, and meekly, like the proverbial lamb, cause the gray weather, blowy wind and slamming sheets of rain can be difficult to take day after day!) and tiny Spring flowers are abundant, poking their little yellow daffodil and white & lavender crocus heads up through the (very wet) earth. Which reminds me of blooming--or blooming LATE, as the case may be.
We live in a "hurry-up" culture and as such, our expectations for our personal timelines are often  unrealistically accelerated. Sure, there are virtuosos who finish college when they're 10 or have the vocal pipes of Pavarotti by the time they're seventeen, but they're truly the exception rather than the rule.
We tend to compare ourselves to others who already seem to be doing the things we think WE should be doing--finishing degrees, finding mates, embarking on lucrative careers, welcoming fame, honing phenomenal talent, getting published, reinventing their lives by dropping 50 pounds and making themselves over physically--whatever they're doing or whatever they seem to have ALREADY, we tell ourselves we "should" be there, too.
We "should" have it. Be it. Do it. Get it. Live it.
As a teen, I used to think I was peculiar because I physically developed later than my sister and a lot of other girls in school, and I carried my insecurities about my physical self around with me for years, long after I'd caught up with my peers. But by then I'd made myself miserable, clinging to an obsolete self-image that managed to find its way into other areas of my life.
All this thinking does is set us up for paralysis and misery, because it has nothing to do with us.

Sure, we can take stock of another person's life to gain inspiration for our own, but actually comparing ourselves is damaging. Who they are, what they're doing, what they have and how they got there is unique to them. Physically, they have different DNA. Career-wise, perhaps they had the support (financial, emotional), the inspiration, the drive, the talent, the curiosity, the self-awareness, the stroke of serendipity to get them where they are RIGHT NOW, while for others of us, it takes longer to glean a more complete picture of who we are, what we want, and where we're going. Generally, it takes growth in the form of years, emotional maturity (simply put, we need to "grow up"), reflection from trusted others, trial and error, and simply experiencing life to figure our paths out. That's most of us.
Hence the "Midlife Crisis," which, I believe, is generally just a (sometimes inconvenient but no less relevant) "waking up" to our potential before all of our years slip away for good.
We all have a timeline that we're asked, in some way, to surrender to (no, we can't control the Universe, try as we might!) and we are all gifted. It just takes time to identify, nurture and grow those gifts. Just like the Spring bulbs that remain dormant in the chilly earth and bloom with the warming of the seasons.
We bloom when we bloom. The trick is to keep moving forever FORWARD, keep feeding our talents, our curiosity, our gifts, keep showing up for OURSELVES and stop "should-ing" on ourselves--that's simply an energy leak. Personal empowerment involves managing our own side of the street, and time spent comparing and fretting over someone else's physical or professional progress is time unwisely spent. We all have our own blueprint and we learn our own unique lessons on our own unique timeline, so that we may ultimately offer our (unique) gifts fully and confidently to the world.
Or as Oscar Wilde is quoted as saying, "Be yourself, because everyone else is taken."