Lessons from the OG. Get on with your magical self!

Without a doubt some of the most valuable lessons that have come out of the last 20 years have likely emerged out of conversations that I have had with my dad. Some of those lessons have been hard. Some have been epiphanies that have bubbled to the surface over Dunkin’s coffee or over long breakfasts at my dad’s favorite spot on 1st avenue called the Sutton Café. It’s not that he has all of the answers. He most certainly does not. I think what he does have is the right questions. Those questions that, when I am pushed up against them, force me to take a really hard look at my motivations, my priorities and my true north.

I think my dad has more nicknames than anyone I’ve ever known. And he’s quick to hand them out just the same. Peep, Peepaw,  Big Mike, OG, Wimp and Chap are just a few. It doesn’t matter what he is called, most would agree that there is a Yoda like mystery about him.  He is kind of legendary in our family and beyond. An incredible athlete all his life, a true theologian, a musician and seeker to life’s complex mysteries. Wherever the conversation leads it is sure to be interesting. Sports, religion, music, philosophy or just shooting the breeze about nothing in particular. It is always so rich.

Since Cray passed away in 2006 I have had this itch that needed to be scratched. As the magnitude of his diagnosis evolved I was desperate for answers and support. We developed a solid relationship with his MD who specialized in neurometabolic disorders. But other than that I found very little in terms of support for families who had disabled children or, like in our case, who would be facing the prospect of having a child with an abbreviated life span.  We did find a support group for families that had children with mitochondrial disease but at the end of the day it was a bitch session about insurance. Cray was so profoundly disabled, insurance companies were falling all over themselves to provide services for us. I guess in that sense we were lucky? But I wanted to know how to navigate the feelings of fear, disappointment and loss.

After he died I felt this drive (itch) to help others but within a couple of years, when Mr. Glowing Balls totally fell apart, I was in survival mode and thoughts of helping others fell by the wayside. I needed to help myself before I could help others. But the itch never really went away. In the meantime, throughout the course of my career, I realized that I have a skill! Not like the skills you learn in school, Lord knows after Grad school I should have had at least one, but something that I was actually good at. I won’t go so far to call it a gift but dang! Something that I really enjoyed and I am solidly entertaining at. Don’t cringe..public speaking. IKR!?!

In the wake of Cameron’s death over the last few years and establishing yet another new “normal” I’ve allowed time to really delve into those things that buoy my soul. My motorcycle, art in the form of drawing, painting, writing and silversmithing. Belly dance, yoga and weightlifting all keep my brain and heart engaged. But there is still this itch.

So off to the Sutton Café I go to meet with Yoda, er, dad.

I told him about my grand plan to become an inspirational speaker and that my visit to NYC was actually to meet with his successor, Susan Sparks, at the Madison Avenue Baptist Church.  A gifted speaker, theologian and comedian, I felt that maybe she could point me in the right direction. My lunch with her was nothing short of invigorating/exciting and inspirational. So much so that I cannot not follow this dream. I have a story. I have a voice. I have hope that I want to share with others. I have to share the hope.

Albert Schweitzer said “At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” I thank Susan for lighting that flame of hope within me.

So there we were at the diner and I was a little bit surprised at dad’s reaction. He said “Honey you’re so settled, so why now?”

Settled is an interesting word. Am I settled or am I settling? I have a good husband. We have amazing friends. We travel. We have a beautiful home. I have a good job and a great many activities that bring me joy. All true. We talked of those things and without a doubt, life is good.

But I am empty. Maybe not totally empty. But empty enough to feel uncomfortable. Much like my dad who was called to the ministry all of his life, I feel called the same way. To a ministry, minus the minister part. All of this “stuff” or these “shituations” as it were, have provided me with the resources to actually do something good in the universe.

And why now? Because I am tired of being afraid of change. Like change on my own and by choice. Not the forced changes that we all encounter throughout our life. Changes that come about with the loss of relationships, jobs and other unmet expectations that we face on a daily basis. Changes that come about with new relationships, moving or a new promotion. No matter what, change is hard!

After Cameron died I visited many on line forums for grieving parents. Things that were not available when Cray died. The most heart wrenching thing that I read over and over was that two, ten, twenty years later, people were still crying every single day for the loss of their loved ones. It absolutely gutted me. I did not want to be that person and I do not believe that it has to be that way. Some people may disagree with me and that’s okay.

I am paying attention to the ball and chain around my soul that is settling and something else, maybe fear? I’ll not settle for complacency and I am just going to have to walk right through the fear.

I believe that the universe will put you in the right place but you have to pay attention. And for me there are so many signs.

As I was typing this up today a friend posted a very poignant statement on FB. It said:

“Imagine your incredible life a year from now if you’d stop fantasizing about a better life and actively started building one.”

I am done doubting myself and being afraid to step out of my comfort zone. I am tired of settling. I am fighting back against the internal narrative telling myself that nobody wants to hear what I have to say. I know how powerful my stories are. I alone have survived them. And I know that there is hope to be shared in those powerful stories.

So there you go Yoda. There is your answer.

Settling and fear. Don’t let these be the barrier to your awesomeness. Maybe you have other barriers? Don’t let fear of the unknown wreak havoc on those small pearls of inspiration that are inside of you just aching to get out. Imagine something. Imagine anything that calls out to you. The itch that needs to be scratched but it seems too big or scary to tackle. What is the barrier to getting where you want to go?  Why settle for less than what the universe has to offer?

Break it down into satisfying bite sized snacks rather than trying to choke the whole dang thing down. Write down some little steps (or snacks). Everyday try to make some movement on those steps and see where they lead you. Somedays the strides will be big and you’ll feel sated. Some days will be small and leave you hungering for more. The point is to keep moving forward with purpose and intention.

 And getting on with your most magical self.