Yep, I forgot that.  Along with how happy I am.  How much I like to be connected.  How much I love Ventura.

How I don’t want to divert anyone else’s happiness even when mine is diverted.  How I can re-vert my happiness any time I like, all by myself.

Even when it feels I am the most alone, I still have God, so I’m really not all that alone at all.

The kids have been running a bit amok lately.

I think as long as the adult remembers she is a dork, we are all dorks,  yes, even that Valkyrie sitting in my sinuses, I won’t get so overwhelmed.

Plus, you know, letting God figure out all the hard stuff

Some beautiful but painful and others just painful.

And no, it didn’t feel like my happiness was simply diverted.  It felt like pain.

No wonder my back hurts today.

Ventura is just so… pretty.  It seems almost surreal I am going to be living there.

Especially the neighborhood we live in is so beachy.  I mean the beachist of the beachist.

As a child I went to the beach a lot and we saw houses like mine all the time.  But those were for other people.  Better people.  “The Chosen” beach people (I guess they got selected by a dolphin or seal or something).

Driving around doing errands is like a vacation.

So besides a whole dollop of not feeling like I deserved to live there, it also reminded me so strongly of my childhood.  Of Gary.

How many times did we go to the beach?

Did I mention Gary was killed on a beach in a rock-slide?  I always saw it was tragic that he died going to get me giant pumpkins and then sunbathing on the beach.  But he died doing his two favorite things.  Looking back if you had asked Gary what his last day would have been like, he probably would have written in, going to get giant pumpkins for Carolyn and then sunbathing.

I think I’ve had a love/hate relationship with the beach since then.  Come to think of it I don’t think I’ve been to the beach more than a handful of times since his death.  And I think each time was bittersweet because of the combination of memories.

But he would love this house.  He would probably be living with me if he were alive.

And yes, he would be sunbathing every day.

I think I just identified a girl that has been working (really, really hard) in the background.

Reclaiming my childhood Girl.  RC for short

I think she is a sister to Beautiful Places Girl.  Sorry, she wants to be called Beautiful Places Girl all the time

I thought Beautiful Places Girl was the overriding force for my sometimes herky-jerky energy about this move.  She provided a bunch of unconscious energy to the process which stimulates a bunch of random kids and protectors making this process not as loving and gentle as I would like it to be.

I kept feeling like I know I love Beautiful Places, but wow, not quite that much.

Now it totally makes sense.  My beach girl has been awaken.  And she has all these memories.  All these feelings that have been bottled up for decades.

Yeah, big emotions.  Really big emotions.

Luckily the ocean is really, really big as well.  And so is God so I think we are going to be fine

I reached out for God’s love and found some, but wow, this is a 24/7 job.

Then as I was processing, we kept getting down to the same refrain.  Each kid (and the adult) realized they needed God’s love.  So why go through all that other stuff?

Not to say that what the kids want to talk about isn’t profound, but even with that wouldn’t I be able to hear them better and parent them better if we had more of God’s love from the very beginning?

So now each time I find a kid having trouble playing nicely with others or tantruming, we talk about God’s love first.  Not last.

And the beautiful thing is now the kids are just coming right and saying it.  And many times it turns out, that’s all they needed.

And yes, God really is that pretty

I had a blog planned, but when I opened my computer, the picture of my beach house was up on screen.  I burst into tears.  Which is a good thing.

You see this morning I identified a bunch of kids.  Not only can’t they write cursive yet, they can’t tell time either.

That’s where all the angst is coming from.  They think we are moving tomorrow.  Every day.

They vaguely understood Friday as soon.  Maybe one or two tomorrows.  They could handle that.

But to have it pushed off a week?  That’s like two hands worth of days, right?  And they get sort of lost once they have to include thumbs.

It made so much more sense.  Their angst.  Their tantrums.  Their flashes of anger.

Plus the fact it seemed like no one was paying any attention to all that hurt.

I felt on the verge of having to stay in bed today.  Achy.  Fever.  Sore throat.  Headache.  And I do still have all those symptoms they are a 1/4 of what they were.

I would rather not break.  I would rather walk through this transition phase with ease and grace.

God has decided the exactly right amount of time for this move to happen.

And until then I’ll keep that picture up so the kids can look at it any time they want

Now the pictures on the wall are gone?  What the &^%#&^?

I think my life was so chaotic as a child I took solace in things being in their proper place.  And yes there is a proper and improper place to have things.  I like to know where they are.  I like to have a picture in my mind of where they are.

I also like to have them out and visible.  I don’t horde or store things away.  I like them out and to be enjoyed.  They comfort me.

So as you can imagine I am feeling very uncomforted right about now.  I feel exposed and unsettled which makes me feel weak.

Probably why pneumonia girl is hanging around the edges waiting to see if we need that particular kill switch.

We don’t because we have God’s love now and while it may not be my wolf painting, it is comforting.

But try telling that to these kids!

You see I am about to move into a beach house… early.  So, of course, I have to break, right?

I mean if the flu symptoms weren’t bad enough, my back is tweaking all over the place.  My mid-thoracic disc, the big momma of them all, just flared up.

Yeah, I’m breaking.

Which is really quite silly.  The world is my oyster right now.  Okay, I’m broke (financially and physically it would seem) and the future is very clouded, but I’m happy.

We are moving to a beautiful place.  I have dear, dear friends helping with this move and I am doing it so much better and more conscious than ever before.

I have broken with each move.  My original lumbar disc was blown on a move.

I am breaking now.  Kill switches are being thrown right and left.  Which just means the kids are stirred up, the adult is overwhelmed and needs God.

Well, that an edging knife, but we’ll take God’s love too

Back girl is also present along with flu girls, strep throat girl.  Even asthma girl is in on the action.

Did I mention I’ve been up since four?  And haven’t really gotten a lot done.  Not even processing.

Fevers make me a little loopy.

The good news?  I’m not upset with fever girl or any of the other ones.  They are just telling me I need more of God’s love and since when do I ever reject that message?

So here is to ibuprofen and drinking lots and lots of fluids

If I have a boring pack of dogs, then I have the most boring cats.  They want pets.  24/7.  No, I mean 24/7.  Yes Lance Flame vogues and Enya will try to make love to you, but they do so in very stationary ways.

Not Elvira and Yersenia.  They run around and get into mischief.  My roommate has to scour the front room before we let them out to make sure there is nothing they can eat and kill themselves with.

This morning I came out to find both of her cats precariously perched on a new bar stool I bought.  Both cats on one stool (it was the only one without boxes on it.)

Now normally they scatter when I come out, but today they just sat there, defiant.

You see that was a super cool stool.  They are super cool cats.  So what does a super cool cat do when they find a super cool stool?  Sit on it of course.  And stay there no matter what.

You know what?  I can dig super cool cats.

And if that’s the case the sky is the limit!

Yeah, that’s about what has been going on inside my head the last few weeks.  And getting louder with each day as we move closer to the move.

My business partner’s daughter is also having a tough time while waiting for her dog to arrive.  She wants it NOW.  Not tomorrow.  Not even later today.  NOW.

And, of course, my advice was don’t bring the dog in until her tantrums subside.

Unfortunately my kids know we will be moving on the 25th.

I think another reason I haven’t parented these voices all that well is because the adult really, really, really wants to be in Ventura right now too.  Even the adult doesn’t have all that many patience skills.

But do you know who does?  God.  He’s pretty patient.  He’s pretty much the definition of patient.

I am sure there are lessons to be learned in North Hollywood.  Even some grieving to be done for this house and this home.

And lots and lots of parenting of the Ventura girls

And fear is pretty, well…  fear inspiring!

Also my kids want everyone to know that fear is based on hurt that has occurred before so there’s even a basis for it!

Yeah, processing this morning has been fun.  Granted the kids are super cute.  All trying to prove to the adult that there irrational fear is really there and that our issue is not letting God’s love in.

They are very chatty.

Last night a sense of doom took over.  Okay, maybe not doom, but certainly the sky was falling.  This morning I woke up a little better but as I went to process last night’s unease, these kids came out.

And I welcome them.  They are a little jumpy.  Skittish.  Yet once you get them comfy they want to tell you all about it.

Kind of like a chihuahua.  Which, what could be cuter?

So really I have nothing to fear but a lack of God’s love and a willingness to accept his plan.

Yeah, that’s never going to be a bumper sticker

Last night I was meditating and feeling like there were some areas of my life that felt stuck.  Weight Loss.  Romance.  Finances.

And each time I really got down to the root of the problem, it was a lack of God’s love.  Or a lack of faith in God’s love (which by definition means I don’t have enough of God’s love inside of me).

Feeling like I want to eat even though I’m not hungry?  God’s love.

Feeling stressed about money?  God’s love.

Feeling bummed about not being married?  God’s love.

Which is pretty cool since I think I’m starting to figure that out and turn to it more and more.

I also think that is why so many more camps are out at any one time.  The kids know all we need is more God’s love and everything will be cool.

Yep.  God’s love.  What more do you need?

At first I thought it was an aftermath to having my interior design girls kind of go crazy last night and keep me up until 1:30 this morning.

I mean, part of it may be, but once I settled and talked to the force behind the anger, I found a very sweet and polite little girl.  She is kind of a young, very pleasant tour guide.

You see, the vindication ritual is a centuries old process by which we regain our pride and teach the other person it isn’t okay to treat us like that.

I mean put that way, the vindication ritual doesn’t sound half bad, right?

She would definitely agree.  It is the only way after all.  So please don’t squirm when we have to eviscerate the other person, okay?

What?????  Yeah, it turns out the intentions of the ritual are awesome, the ritual itself?  Kind of harsh.

She would definitely disagree.  You see this is one of those ancient fight fire with fire type situation.  Depending on the degree of hurt involved, we must inflict not only the same amount, but just a little bit more than that to make sure they know we have won this battle of the wills.

Yeah, I’m not sure how awake she has been during this whole ‘being’ process.

She is okay with being, as long as, you know, it doesn’t mess with her ritual.

When hurt that badly, by a good friend no less and towards the writers for goodness sake, what else is there besides vindication?  I mean really, this whole debate is so very silly.

As you can see, she isn’t the curser.  She puts her fingers in her ears when the cursers come out.  She knows to activate the cursers to get us ramped up for battle, but actually curse herself?  No way, no how.

I don’t think I can really relay just how stinking cute she is.  And so very sincere.  She believes with her heart and soul that this ritual is the only way to keep us safe.

It isn’t.  God’s love is.  And usually with God’s love comes forgiveness.

She doesn’t yet know that any ‘hurt’ that was inflicted has already been healed.  The it wasn’t really hurt.  It wasn’t really inflicted.

Our happiness got diverted.  We can re-vert it.  With God’s love of course.

Hmmm…  She is intrigued by this God’s love I speak of.

That’s the beauty of VR girl.  She really doesn’t care about the actual steps of the ritual, as a matter of fact if we could skip the whole cursing like a sailor part she wouldn’t mind at all, she only cares that whoever was hurt feels better.

Notice she didn’t even want me to call her vindication girl.  Even that word was too harsh for her.  And well, Ritual girl just wouldn’t work because there are so many other rituals and girls who oversee them it wouldn’t be fair to single her out.

Yeah, she is pretty stinking cute.  And sweet.  And adorable.  And thoughtful.  And loyal.  And caring.

Really in many ways she holds many, many, many of the characteristics of the woman I want to be, just without all the cursing.

I think VR and I are going to fast friends

I have grown so much in the last year, but still find myself ferklempt. Especially when I feel certain emotions. Fear. Panic. Withdrawing.

I fear the feeling of fear. I fear the feeling of panic or even withdrawing.

I tense up. Stiffen. Lose my resilience.

In the past I have tacked away from whatever made me feel that way. Okay, I fled in panic or stuffed them down or shamed them away.

Last night I realized all of my addictions are basically a little kid realizing there are so many of those frightening emotions at the surface that we must anesthetize them with food, sex, sleep, or physical pain.

She is pretty cute darn cute though. You would think the gateway to my addiction would be some pretty messed up, sticky, shadowy kid. She’s not. She sees kids in pain. She has been given a set of tools to make them go to sleep so they don’t have to be in pain. That’s a good thing, right?

And for most of my life it was a great thing. Now, though, we are beginning to realize that while the kids are out of pain when they sleep, they are in even more pain when they wake up.

What seems a far better, more loving way is to help them heal the pain so they can stay awake and not be in pain.

Hence the ‘welcome.’ Whenever I feel at all uncomfortable, that is really kids in pain. Kids whose happiness has been diverted.

Happiness that can be re-verted. With love.

Darned that healthy behavior. So simple each and every time 

And now I am going to live in one.

Today that did not feel okay.

It felt like maybe I was a failure?  That I didn’t deserve to live in the main house?

Yes, it was all very epic.

Rather than it simply meaning that I love my dogs.  I especially love my oldest dog who is aging before my eyes.  She can’t do the stairs so I am living downstairs.

And I may have forgotten about some of the items in the boxes, I still have them.  I can bring them out and enjoy them.  No failure.  No epinicity.

Just a garage filled with stuff I love and soon another garage to be filled with dogs I love.

Turns out garages don’t need to be filled with doom at all

And he has great timing.  Well, we certainly didn’t see it that way yesterday, but he does.

I should be happy that God can sense each incremental inch forward of progress that I make.  And then adds a new wrinkle to the landscape.

Okay, not a wrinkle.  Even that is a negative slogan.  He does seem to up his game though.

As if the move wasn’t a big enough deal, it looks like my business partner may be out of the country for the week preceding the move.  Did I mention YIKES?

I keep forgetting that we will figure it out.  God did not provide this opportunity for nothing. There are so many lessons to be learned.  So much parenting to be done.  So many kids to pick up.

And when isn’t that well timed?

Which just made me realize…  The kids are out of control.  The adult is struggling so I need God.

Whew!  To think I was going to write an entire blog about magical thinking.  Well, actually the kids were going to write a blog about trying to justify why magical thinking made sense.  That would have been awkward.

The kids want to be in Ventura already.  I think many of them have helped participate in bolts before.  Let’s call them the grass is always greener kids.

Which they completely agree.  The grass is always greener.

Or at least it looks like it.  I’m not saying that Ventura doesn’t suit us better.  I think it does.  It just isn’t perfect.

We will change external Zip codes, but my internal one will be about the same.  I’ll still have all my phobias and addictions.  I’ll still be me.

And that’s okay.  We don’t need a magical place to fix everything.

God’s love is the ‘fix.’  And we can find that anywhere.

Okay, okay, okay, He does seem a little more obvious during a beach sunset, but you get my point

How much I miss Gary.

How happy I am.

And how pretty God is.

This morning there was less in my checking account than I thought there should be.  So, of course, I freaked out.

I forgot how pretty God was.  He clearly wants me to be more conscious around money.  For all my plotting and planning to give myself a buffer this month, he has, in his infinity wisdom, made sure I have to count each nickel and dime.

It feels like it will be ‘tight’ which I’m sure was not his intent.  Just consciousness.  Just paying attention.

Each time I come up against this, I worry and fret (okay, probably closer to FREAK OUT), then it works out and I look back and see how generous God is and how it worked out perfectly.

Then the next time comes and I…  Freak out again.

Wow, talk about a slow building learning curve

So for today…

I miss Gary.  Almost too much to bear.

I am happy.  I mean really, really, really happy.

God is so pretty.  Even when I’m freaking out

As I become more and more conscious, I am realizing more and more how frequently I have a low blood sugar.

That dull roar behind my ears.  That feeling of falling.  The sharpness.  The stiffness.

I think it is a combination of kids running under the floor boards, over consuming and hypo girl actively driving it down as a kill switch.

Not fun in either circumstance.

I do think they want to be picked up though because they are making themselves ever so obvious.

I mean I ate a FULL meal, way off WW, and was running low.  I had cheesy toast and a baked potato!!!  That takes some effort to drop my BG in the face of those carbs.

And I love her.  She saved my life countless times (okay, she has been counting - on her fingers which is so cute - and it is like a gazillion and a half times).

I think she gets activated by the same kids as Insomnia girls.

Those that haven’t been given voice yet.  Those that are stirred up and the adult doesn’t realize it yet.

All my life I have been ‘managing’ my blood sugar, when really it was just kids asking to get picked up.

And that’s pretty darn cool

And boy are they pissed off.  It feels like we have lived out life under double standards, and let’s be clear it never came down on my side.

It feels I have always been held to a higher standard.  No, a much, much, much higher standard.  On a very narrow ledge.

And I’m not good with heights nor am I particularly good at balancing either.

Yeah, that’s taken up a lot of time and energy.

The problem is, my kids took up those tapes and have been repeating them over and over.  Holding myself to these impossibly high standards (and unfortunately for most of the people around me) for decades now.

I think much of my self-sabotaging behavior has come about to counter-balance these high standards.

Because good God if we are successful, you can only imagine the overdrive we would go into.

That’s why I think Ventura will be so good for me.  Hard to go into overdrive mode at the beach (although I’m sure we could find a way so I’ll keep checking about that).

Wow, I just realized I have been mad at other people for so long about the double standard they place on, but I’m the one that set the rules up to begin with.

I think it is healthy to have to pride in my work.  To want to be a team player.  To be responsible and dependable.

I think where I get into trouble is that I want people to assume I am all those things.  That they don’t have to ‘worry’ about things.  But what I am saying is that they don’t have to ‘worry’ about my feelings.  They come to expect things of me and then I get upset they are expectant.

Yeah, this is a ritual that I’ve danced a couple hundred times before.

I would love to see what the vista holds for this one.  I would love to think I know the path I am going to walk ahead.

But I don’t.  All’s I know right now is that I have identified a ritual and I want to change it.

And you know what?  That’s a pretty darn good starting point

Yesterday we were at our (yes, finally our, we signed contracts) beach house.  We stayed for the sunset.

I mean, I knew I wanted to see it.  I knew I wanted to experience the beach in the evening, but WHAT????????

It was off the hook in the most zen fashion ever.

At first it was a bit uncomfortable.  It turns out our house is directly in the line of the setting sun, so the brightness right before it went down was a bit much.  Beautiful but intense, even with highly polarized glasses on.

Then it hit the horizon.  I don’t think I have ever seen such rich hues of orange and red.  It illuminated the entire sky.

It truly was an event.  Most of our neighbors came out to watch the spectacle play out.

Right when it was about half way down, it backlit the San Juan Islands, making it appear as if they were lit by an supernatural light (which I think they are

Then to just make it perfect, a kayaker paddled by and the six surfers paddled out further to watch the sun go down.  And the pelicans took to the sky en mass.  Flying and diving and generally being beautiful.

It truly was surreal.  The most perfect movie moment you could ever want, without a single camera in sight.

Once the globe sunk down beneath the horizon, the real special effects really started.  Without the actual sun there, the sky was still lit with those lush oranges and red.  It seemed impossible anything could be that beautiful. It makes me want to cry.

If I had trouble coming home from a DAY at the beach, holy cow, was I not happy to travel east last night.

The adult had a hard time calming the kids, because, heck I didn’t want to leave either.

But we have that sunset in our mind now.  We are going to use that passion and love to help fuel all the not quite so fun aspects of the move.

Because after Nov 27th, we will be seeing that sunset every night.

God really, really, really is that pretty.