This is a picture of two different bracelets gifted to me this Christmas from my daughter, Baby Bub and my daughter-in-love, Mary. What is so precious to me about them is they both are about dreams. Mary gave me a wrap-around bracelet that says “Dreams become reality one choice at a time”. Baby Bub gave me a silver bangle with a see through charm that has the word “Dream” inside it and written around the border of the charm is “Courage makes dreams possible”.  How awesome is it that they both thought of me when they saw the bracelets?  My best friend, Sarah made me a lovely pendant necklace using my granddaughter, Ava’s picture she pulled off my Facebook page with the promise to make me a pendant bracelet with baby Charlie’s picture as soon I can get one up on Facebook that she can crop as she was able to with Ava’s.  Additionally, Mary knitted me a beautiful slouchy cap, Baby Bub bought me a really pretty matching necklace/earring set and Sarah gifted me a Eucalyptus Spearmint body wash/foam bath, soap and body lotion which provides aromatherapy stress relief. I got movie tickets from a friend I go to movies with and Mary’s mother, my badass co-grandmother gifted a beautiful multi-colored scarf, a fun red purse and a beautiful wooden sign for my place. They were all such thoughtful gifts.

The true gifts of this Christmas were being with family and friends that are family! I got to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning at both of my best friends’ houses with their families. Both are homes I am just as comfortable in as I am in my own where I am part of the family. Christmas afternoon and evening I got to spend it in Pasadena with my oldest son, Charles, daughter-in-love, Mary, the grandbabies and Mary’s family. I brought my middle son and he got to be Uncle Lyndon for the afternoon, something he’s not able to do often now that he lives in Northern California. This is him and Ava at dinner.

As anticipated, I got to spend time with all three of my grown up children on Christmas. Not all together, but it was great just the same. I spent the most time with Lyndon (Ahbuh) since we were in the car ride to and from Pasadena together, which I thought was fitting because he lives the farthest away. I gained some insight from him about his older brother and myself. Or rather he reminded me of some patterns of behavior I used to exhibit when they were little kids that his older brother now seems to have picked up. It was also jolting and hurtful to hear that he considers our family to be estranged. I argued with him briefly about that, telling him what estranged meant and that wasn’t our family. But he firmly told me that he had a different perspective and pointed out times when his older brother wasn’t speaking to me, when he himself wasn’t speaking to me and that their sister, Baby Bub never calls or keeps in touch with them. Well, that shut me down but good because he’s right. Who am I to tell him his perspective is wrong? I was pretty quiet the rest of the ride home. And now that I’m here blogging I do recall I’ve fretted and talked to my therapist about feeling my family is fractured. So really, what’s the difference between estranged and fractured? Turns out not much after looking them up.

So my Christmas ends on a sobering gift of someone else’s perspective and truth as I journey home to myself, my heart, and work towards my purpose.

I love music this time of year, Christmas music. The classics really do it for me. I have Mary J. Blige and Kelly Clarkson Christmas CD’s that I’ve been listening to in my car. They never fail to put me in the Christmas spirit. My favorites are “The Christmas Song”, “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas”, “My Favorite Things” ( from The Sound Of Music, my favorite musical), “Baby It’s Cold Outside” and “Noche De Paz”(Silent Night sung as a Spanish duet between Mary J. Blige and Marc Antony).  I sing along during my morning commute and after work, they tend to soothe and restore my soul.

I’m sitting here experiencing really good aches & pains from my yoga class the night before. There’s soreness in my ribs when I turn suddenly or laugh too hard, my shoulders and arms ache from an especially effective heart opening asana involving a band, and a delicious mild stiffness in my thighs and calves from our warrior poses! If any of you recall, I’ve been sick and then depressed so I’ve missed about two weeks of classes. Last night’s class was like coming home to myself. It was strenuous, a little painful, very emotional and absolutely beautiful. I can’t believe I stayed away so long or that I tried to talk myself out of  going.

I’m feeling pretty accomplished too as I delivered a crockpot chili dinner with cornbread to a friend tonight as part of my “Bali-fund” fundraising endeavors! I have a co-worker that ordered one from me for next week after I told her about putting the chili together in the crockpot before work this morning. Plus I managed to whip up Spaghetti for Baby Bub and me for our own dinner. She called me earlier when I was at work to tell me she stirred the chili for me and expressed an interest in making cookies. She had a hankering for oatmeal cookies without the raisins. I told her to call Auntie Chelle (my sister) for a recipe because she has a good one. I texted her the phone number because Baby Bub is 20 years old and never keeps track of family phone numbers beyond her parents and brothers. Lo, and behold she did call her Auntie and got the recipe. She just finished baking them and now the house smells like a delicious amalgam of chili, spaghetti, and cookies! She was chatting and asking me a bazillion questions on how to do things, which is what she does when she has a recipe, but I am nearby. Or she calls me on the phone a bazillion times when I’m not.

I’m looking forward to Christmas day because I’ll get to see and spend time with all three of my children! Not all of them in the same place at the same time, though, let’s not get crazy. I’ll get up and out early to visit my two best friends’ houses for coffee and to give them some of my French Toast Bakes made especially for Christmas morning. Then it’s back home to watch the Miami Heat hopefully beat the New Orleans Pelicans in their 9:00 am NBA Christmas kick-off game. At some point, Baby Bub will wake up on her own or from my normal screaming and hollering during a Miami Heat game. My middle child, Ahbuh is here from Northern California, but not staying with us, so he will mosey on over some time before 11:00 am when we leave for Pasadena to see the grandbabies, my daughter-in-love and my oldest son, Charles. Baby Bub has her own plans and will not be joining us for the trip up there. Now that my children are grown up, I’ll take my family however I can get them.

In the spirit of Christmas, I want to tell you how grateful I am for the healthy, meaningful connections I am blessed with in my life. Music connects me to fond memories and uplifting emotion. My spiritual practices and programs connect me to God, myself and others in such a profound way when I am fully present. Most importantly I am grateful for the connections to my family of origin, my family of the heart and my worldwide human family. In the spirit of Christmas, I acknowledge how this blog has connected me with myself and hopefully extends out to you all who so graciously share in my journey by reading it. Merry Christmas and I love you all. 

Those of you that read Saturday’s blog post now know the truth about me. I am profoundly, hopelessly, relentlessly, beautifully, amazingly human. I am fully capable of incapacitating myself with an inner shitstorm of fear, doubt, and discouragement. Looking back at last week, I realized that besides my final session with my therapist on Monday night, I missed my Tuesday yoga class and my weekly phone call with my spiritual advisor on Wednesday because I was sick. I also stayed home from work sick on Thursday. By then my inner shitstorm had started gathering because I’d already come across the Facebook post from my yoga studio about their certification program being available in the summer instead of after the beginning of the New Year. All this means I spent a great deal of time by myself last week and if I haven’t said it here before, I’m saying it now. An alcoholic alone is in bad, BAD company.

The truth of the matter is that I isolated most of the weekend too. I didn’t go to my Saturday morning yoga class, I blew off a Christmas Tree lighting/Cookie Exchange party I was supposed to be helping with, and I didn’t go to the Saturday night meeting at the library. I lied to the two friends that texted me Saturday night asking if I was okay. The only reason I left my house Sunday morning is because I had a service commitment to facilitate a meeting in the park every week. Thank God for service commitments! I heard a lot of amazing experience, strength and hope this morning. I also related closely to a woman who opened up to share about struggling with depression and life. She touched my heart and opened my eyes to some things about myself and her. I made a point of thanking her after the meeting because I felt like she was brave enough to share her story, which so closely mirrored mine right now. I also stocked up on a lot of hugs before and after the meeting because hugs are crucial. A very close friend asked me how I was doing after she hugged me and I answered honestly. Thank God I did because she asked a couple of basic questions that moved me in the right direction. One of them was, “When was the last time you saw or talked to your spiritual advisor?” That question helped me understand that while I isolated most of the weekend, I’d also spent most of the previous week in isolation from the people, places and things that feed me spiritually! Yoga class, my yoga teacher and my spiritual advisor.

The other truth I’ve been not wanting to deal with? I’m not sure I trust myself to accomplish my goals/intentions for next year. I’m afraid I might have bitten off more than I can chew! Part of the reason I’m so upset about the yoga certification now being in the summer is that when I thought it was at the beginning of this year, I thought I’d have the chance to teach yoga and gain experience as a teacher before immersing myself in an advanced certification program at the end of the year. I also was hoping to have the certification program as something else to focus on while working at my current soul-sucking job.

As far as I’ve come in my journey, which was fueled initially by Divine Dissatisfaction that ultimately compelled me into my greatest growth to date, I still doubt the trust in myself. Does self-trust work like self-love? How can I trust or love anyone until I learn to trust and love myself? So does that mean I can’t trust God or the process because I’m not sure if I trust myself? NO, of course, it doesn’t mean that. As my girl, Dawny (my sounding board) lovingly pointed out when I read this to her, “I’m sorry, but I call bullshit.” The real truth is that I’ve been trusting my Higher Power, whom I call God and trusting the process long before this little crisis of confidence. It’s what has brought me this far and something I committed to. I just don’t understand why this is happening now when I had a plan, a purpose, and a direction? Which brings me back to God’s redirection. I don’t like it, but I have to trust it, right? 

Why does it seem like no matter how far I’ve come and how far I dare to reach that it feels like I end up in the same place? The timeline that I planned for my goals in 2016 is a bit off. I’m not sure if it was a miscommunication or I misunderstood, but the local yoga certification program will not be offered until the summer. I found out earlier this week on Facebook from a post the studio put out about upcoming events.

I’ve been sick all this week. Actually, I’ve had a cough since the week of Thanksgiving and I finally came down with a full-blown cold this week. I tell you this because I am tired and very, very discouraged right now. I was too sick to go to yoga class Tuesday night and I’m not sure I’m going to make it to my Saturday morning class either.

I had my last face to face appointment with my therapist on Monday. I was very discouraged in her office then too, about how I was going to accomplish my goals and intentions. She brought up some good points about not having to know exactly how my goals would be accomplished and I did feel better. But this was before finding out the yoga teacher training wouldn’t start for another six months. I just don’t know why I bother dreaming or reaching for something other than what I have in my life. I got paid today and took care of most of my bills. None of what I want to do feels possible anymore. I should just be an insurance adjuster for the next 17 years.

There is a meme going around Facebook that says something about thanking God the internet wasn’t around in our twenties. It is obviously for those of us who are 40 or older and implies that none of our embarrassing moments are caught on the web in perpetuity. I always smile at that and say a silent prayer of gratitude that it’s true for me because I’ve done some seriously stupid, foolish and fucked up shit in my youth. Shit, I would NOT want to float around on the internet. Why bring this up in my blog? Because a really good friend of over 20 years posted some pictures on Facebook, TAGGING me with the question, “Do you remember this day Tammi —–?” I’ve embedded the picture into the blog so you can see it. It looks innocuous enough right? Some ladies clearly having some sort of outdoor party. The hats and gloves might give away that it was a ladies tea. I don’t remember exactly how long ago this was, but it is at least 15 years ago. I’m not doing anything stupid, foolish or fucked up in this picture-BUT I had a visceral reaction just the same. I sent her a private message on Facebook in response to the picture because I didn’t want any comment on the post to bring any more attention to it other than being tagged in it. I told her I hated that day and definitely  was unhappy because I did not want to take those pictures. You can barely see me, but I hated how I looked and felt like a fat frump. I was profoundly insecure about myself back then. The tea was hosted by two of my friends and I wouldn’t even have shown up if I hadn’t brought my friend Lisa with me. She is the one who posted the picture and she didn’t remember any of the other women because they were friends of mine. The tea required a hat, gloves and a dress. I had a horrible time trying to find something I felt comfortable in. Since I hated myself, I didn’t find anything I liked. I hated that dress and that hat, which is called a cloche. To this day, I refuse to wear that type of hat because I don’t think it’s flattering on me. The tea party itself wasn’t bad at all. We had mini sandwiches and were given a personalized antique tea cup with a saucer as party gifts. We played some guessing games too so that part was fun. But what stands out in my memory was how desperately unhappy I was with my looks, at least, that’s what I focused on at the time.

Now let’s fast forward to present day when I had an office ornament exchange party to go to. There is a $10 limit and we use the standard white elephant gift format of choosing & stealing ornaments. It’s actually a lot of fun and I’ve participated for the last four or five years. However, there had been some catty remarks about the quality of some of the ornaments in past years and this stuck in my mind and heart for some reason. I was actually feeling insecure about picking out an ornament. I told my friends I didn’t want to go to the party because I had “ornament insecurity”. I really used those words together. They laughed at me, but I went on to explain how catty and snotty some people were about ornaments in the past. I didn’t even officially RSVP, but my friend Karina, who was throwing it said she was RSVP’ing for me so I had no choice. I found what I believed to be a cute combination of items all under $10 at Michael’s craft store. I found an adorable circular wooden basket painted red with a black Santa’s belt around it’s middle and white fur lining the rim of it. Then I found a four pack of really cute cupcake shaped ornaments which I placed in the Santa basket, but I was still feeling insecure. I went to the party today, which was in the breakroom at lunch time. My ornament ensemble was well received by the person that chose it and I was happy with the one I ended up stealing because I was #26 and got to pick last. Oh, and there was talk about one chintzy little item someone tried passing off as an ornament, but there was nothing to hang it by and it was tiny. What are you going to do? We’re all human and even my friend that ended up with it admitted she considered herself the only “loser” of the ornament exchange.

Social anxiety and insecurity are things I’ve struggled with since I got sober 19 years ago and long before that as well if I’m being honest, which I always am here. Looking back at the tea party I understand now that I was profoundly unhappy with who I was inside, but wasn’t willing to acknowledge that, so I fixated on my outward appearance. After a lot of relationship building with God, personal growth work, sobriety, therapy and the love of great friends, today I’m happy with who I am inside. More importantly, I’m happy with where I’m headed with my life. Ah, but apparently that does not make me immune to insecurity about social events. So much so that I focus on ‘ornament insecurity’ rather than the fact that I still get the jitters before things like office parties. The saving grace for me is I’ve always been BLESSED with friends who have either held my hand to attend ladies tea parties, accompanied me on trips to Disneyland and La Bufadora, Baja Mexico, or friends who kick me in the pants and RSVP for me, insisting that I show up and be a part of things. We really do get by with a little help from our friends.