Bloom.

I remember this book I read years ago. A series, actually.

You were introduced to the villain first, and then later to the protagonist.

Things seemed to go along the path you’d expect for him, except he constantly ran up against all sorts of obstacles.

Everything just kept going sideways.

I remember thinking, “Okay this is it. From here on it will be the resolution, because nothing can be worse than that.”

Do you already see where this is going?

Yea, things kept getting worse.

Now, I adore books, and I typically treat them kindly…but this book…

this damn book…

I threw it clear across the room.

I was so mad.

Tears, rage, disbelief; the whole gamut of emotions. I just couldn’t believe the author would put the characters through so many awful things.

They weren’t getting a break.

I was so distraught, and drained by the entire story that by the time I was done I didn’t even care how it ended. I just wanted it to be over.

That entire experience seems to be a microcosm of the collective consciousness so far this year.

At least it feels that way.

This time though, I do care how it ends.

Very, very much.

That makes it so much more frightening, and so much more frustrating (to say the least).

I keep wondering what part of the book we’re in now.

I hope when it’s over we can gather together with our loved ones, and look back on things as better people.

That’s my hope.

Especially the part about being together.

It’s a small thing really, like a flower blooming in the crack of an old sidewalk.

I struggle not to get pulled into pessimistic doom and gloom, but sometimes a small ray of hope is all we need to keep going.

So, whatever it is you’re feeling and experiencing these days, I’m sending you gentle sunshine, a warm ocean breeze, a bright flower blooming strong where it doesn’t seem to belong…whatever it is that may soothe your soul for even the briefest second.

It’s not much, but I’m sending it to you anyway.

We’ll finish this story together, so that the next one we pick up will hopefully be a much kinder one.

🌸☀️🌊

Altered Shorelines.

I’ve been absent from my blog for a little while. Absent from a lot of things.

If you recall a metaphor from one of my first few posts about the waves, I recently experienced one of those violent waves that changes the landscape of the shore.

Perhaps not in the way I meant it back then though.

It’s been difficult relearning the new shoreline, so I’ve been taking time to examine it, and walk along it.

There are jagged parts that are difficult to walk along now.

My friends have been helping me cross those. Holding my hands while I cry at the pain of it, and then standing with me as I look at the small ruined section of beach, and miss the old one.

At first it felt like the entire landscape had changed.

Now though I see it’s just a portion. It’s ugly, and painful, but it’s a part of my shoreline now, and maybe someday the waves will make it a little less jagged.

Either way I’m here, I’m walking past it, I’m moving forward with the people who made it across with me, and life will go on.

It has been a painful, and deeply personal process. One that I’m still going through. I’ve found my voice again I think, so that’s nice. It’s a little scratchy, and worn. A bit unfamiliar, like that section of the shore now is, but it’s mine.

I’m still standing.

My perspective may be slightly altered, my feet scarred, but I am still here and I am still me.

Nothing will change that truth.

🌊

This Week.

Just get through this week. Just get through this week. Just get through this week.

That is the mantra I keep repeating in my head today.

It is my last week of work, hell week of the show, the last week the kids will be in daycare until school starts up again…

Just get through this week.

I should be at work today. Instead I woke up at 5 am to two kids throwing up. This has been happening almost every other week since May.

Stomach bugs, constipation, digestive issues, trips to the doctors, stomach x-rays…

That’s also why this is my last week of work. It was essentially a choice of quitting, or being fired for poor attendance.

I’m so tired.

My stress levels have been through the roof for such an extensive amount of time now that I am completely drained.

Just get through this week.

It’s also hell week. The week before opening night of a show.

Long hours, hard work, and putting together all the pieces that go into the show. Everyone working together to make sure each cog is in place, and the gears are spinning as they’re supposed to. More dancing, more singing, more set moving, and a lot less sleep.

I adore performing. This is what I do for fun, and I will never stop loving it. Hell week is just always stressful.

Add it to the stress, and worry of everything else…

I am moving like a zombie. My eyes look dead. If I didn’t have two children who needed me to be up and about, I’d still be in bed, in the dark, alternating between sleeping and crying.

Just get through this week.

Next week will be better. Next week I’ll be able to breathe again. Sleep again.

Work will be done. Daycare will be done for now. The show will have opened, and we all will have survived opening weekend, and have some time to breathe before next weekend’s shows.

Just get through this week, Grace.

That’s what I will keep telling myself so that my feet keep carrying me forward.

I know I’m not the only one who feels this way at times. Sometimes all we can do is keep going. Pause and take a breath (a nap, if there’s time), and keep trudging along.

Just get through this week. This day. This hour. This minute.

A new one will start, and maybe that one will be better.

Until then, I’m sending hugs to anyone who needs one, because I could use a few myself right now.

💕

For those of you who know and love the kids, they are already feeling better. We just have had some seemingly endless stomach issues ever since we got a bad stomach bug back in May. The doctor has given us some tips for remedying things, and we will be okay. ❤️

Clinging to Flotsam.

There are some weeks that are just exhausting. Completely, utterly, inexorably exhausting.

Did I use enough adjectives to get my point across?

I am exhausted.

For various reasons, both large scale and small, this week has been hellish.

Ever spent a week cleaning up after two kids with a stomach bug?

Add that to current events.

Add that to rehearsals, and work, worrying about getting fired from work for having to take so many days off to care for my sick children, and the list goes ever onward.

Just like that run-on sentence did. 😅

I have felt small, and crushed, and helpless so many times this week that the feelings nearly overwhelm.

I’m trying to keep my head above the waves though.

Trying not to drown.

When I feel this way I try to cling to the things that matter to me.

If I can’t work up the energy to reach out to friends or family, I cling to even tinier things.

Pieces of flotsam, rather than lifeboats.

Things like the fact that my coffee this morning tastes delicious, the sun is shining outside, and the tree beyond my window is a beautiful yellow green.

Small things.

I shared my post about small steps yesterday to try to remind myself of where my mind was this time last week. I needed the reminder.

Now I just need to remind myself that weeks like this one don’t last forever.

That if I keep taking those small steps, clinging to the flotsam, and finding my lifeboats when I have the energy to, I will still be moving forward.

Sometimes that’s all we can do,

and that’s okay.

I’m off to try to take a few more steps. Take my hand if you need help taking some too.

💕