Are you struggling with regrets, disappointment and outright unhappiness? Are you searching for a way to live a richer, happier and more meaningful life?  Follow the author on her journey and you will learn from her experiences, mistakes, despair and triumphs. In the process you can find a path to what you seek.

My book has been published.  Here is the link to Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/What-Taken-Roads-Traveled-ebook/dp/B00A3EOH0C/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1352836531&sr=1-1&keywords=What+If+I+had+Taken+the+Roads+Not+Traveled

Here is the summary:

Upon the demise of her recent marriage, she can no longer ignore the inner voice that chastises her for the many mistakes she has made that have brought her to this unhappy place.  She is shadowed by a cloud of dissatisfaction, disappointment and outright unhappiness. She has missed opportunities. She has made bad choices and decisions.  She feels like a failure.  As she looks around everyone seems to be happier and/or more successful than she is.  She is haunted by the “What ifs” of her life and the nagging feeling that she would be happier, more successful, more satisfied if she had only taken a different path somewhere along the way.  She desperately wants to enjoy where she is in her life at this moment.  So she begins a painful journey down the roads she has traveled in the hope she can “exorcise” the “what ifs” that rob her of her peace of mind.

 Her life has been a winding and twisting path of triumph and despair. She has been:  married, divorced, widowed, a step parent, financially broke, a single parent to four children, a full time caregiver to a terminally ill husband, a victim of spousal abuse, a parent to two adolescents addicted to alcohol and drugs and a seeker of spirituality.  She relives the seminal events of her life searching for some insights, observations and/or “wisdom” she can glean from those experiences.  Ultimately she is searching for peace and a good road map for the remainder of her journey.   She humbly offers her experiences, insights and perhaps wisdom to the reader in hopes she can develop a road map for her own journey and find peace and happiness in her own life.

Taking a respite from blogging. Would welcome your "stories".

The Silent Killers

 There has been enough “buzz” in our media saturated world that we easily recognize our enemies.  Oh I ‘m not referring to the wars we are still involved in.  I am referring to enemies of our self esteem and specifically our internal enemies – the ones we create for ourselves.  We are armed against the most common internal predators like statements such as “You are not a good wife, mother, employee, spouse, daughter because a good mother doesn’t say that to her child or a good employee does not arrive late for work.  We often say these things to ourselves when our behavior doesn’t match our image of what we should be doing or how we should be acting in that role. We recognize that perfection is unattainable and we are on guard when we expect it of ourselves.  We can forgive ourselves for not attaining the unattainable. At least I hope we can.

But what about the silent killers of self- esteem?  They are not so easily recognized because they do not convey explicit messages of failure. They creep up on us and hide in our psyche.  They can envelope us so quickly.

I was relaxing, reading the newspaper the other morning.  I couldn’t quite seem to enjoy reading it.  I kept interrupting myself with comments like, “you have work to do”, “the dishwasher needs to be unloaded”, and “you have many phone calls to make today”.  Eventually I gave in to the voice telling me I should be doing something other than what I was doing and put down the newspaper. Really what’s wrong with taking 15 or 30 minutes to read the newspaper early in the morning while you drink your morning coffee?  Intellectually there is nothing wrong with it but subconsciously there are many things wrong with it.  You are not doing what you are supposed to be doing which is typically something “productive” like work – housework or other work.  You are lazy.  You shouldn’t enjoy yourself until all your “work” is done.  Is it really ever done?

So let’s guard against the silent killers of self-esteem – the malaise or cloud hanging over us telling us that we are a “bad” person because we are taking some time out of the day to do" nothing" or to do something that isn’t defined as “productive” or to do something that benefits no one but ourselves.  It is hard to recognize, I think, because this attitude is so ingrained in us.

Q:  What negative messages are you sending yourself daily?  Recognizing them, I believe, is the first step toward prevention.

What about God? (Part Four)

The days and months dragged on.  I don’t recall if Deborah (the "angel") ever came back to visit us again.  Something changed that day.  We still had sleepless nights and we still experienced all the physical manifestations and emotional fallout of the illness.  But I no longer felt totally alone, isolated and abandoned.  Some days I didn’t even feel so angry.  I can’t explain what happened.   It is difficult to find words to explain the beginnings of an emotional transformation.  How could Deborah’s act of reading a few psalms and telling us it was OK to be angry with God change everything?  It just did.  Maybe it was because I was reminded that others had suffered and were suffering like we were.    Maybe I needed someone to tell me that I was not being punished or singled out.  This illness is something that happened for no particular reason.  God had provided comfort to the psalmists in their darkest hours.  I wondered what that would that look or feel like for me.   Would He be there for me as well?  Maybe God did exist and maybe he hadn’t abandoned me. 

  I had no idea then but Deborah’s visit opened the door to looking for and finding something more than misery and despair in this situation.  I started to see my experience in terms of something other than my own personal suffering.    It was part of something bigger. I don’t mean some kind of a “plan.  Many others were suffering and others, like Deborah, understood our despair.   Deborah had mirrored God’s love, understanding and support.   I wouldn’t understand that until much later.    I was reminded that others had suffered greatly and triumphed over it.  Maybe we could too.   My suffering was not a punishment.  I stopped seeing myself as being victimized.

This one dimensional, inert God of my childhood was gone.  He was replaced with a, figuratively speaking, breathing, living entity.   I could express my inner most feelings to Him.  He could even accept my anger and yes hatred toward Him and not turn away from me.  He understood my pain. He loved me unconditionally with a steadfast love.  How did I know this?  I saw it mirrored in Deborah. My rational armor was beginning to crack.  I was starting to believe there was a spiritual world –a world that we can’t measure scientifically but that exists nonetheless.  My belief would grow and strengthen but for now it was minute.  Her words were powerful but not as powerful as her presence.  Her presence spoke much more than words ever could.   I wish I could say more but words are so inadequate to explain it.  It has to be experienced – felt.   I can close my eyes and feel that loving presence.   I would do that in my darkest hours.

There are very few people like Deborah. She just exuded spirituality. It oozed out of her pores.  I was fortunate to have met her.  This was brought home to me when some time after Brian died I went to lunch with Deborah.  She couldn’t talk of such mundane matters as jobs, children, husbands, etc.  Her focus was elsewhere.  At first I was sorely disappointed that I couldn’t connect with her on that level. I was angry that she didn’t treat me differently or special because of what I had been through. Then I realized that I connected with her on a much higher or more important level.   I see that her love for everyone was the same.  Isn’t that how it should be?  Her presence was inspiring and calming.  Her main focus was beyond the mundane affairs of the day.  Isn’t that what a spiritual leader should be?  We never went to lunch together again. 

Q: Do you have or have you ever had a person or experience that raised you to a different or better understanding of spiritual matters?

IIlegitimate Unhappiness?

I just feel plain sad these days.  Oh there have been a lot of serious changes in my life.  I know that a lot of the sadness is just the process of grieving over my losses.  That seems to me to be a legitimate type of unhappiness.

But this cloud of sadness has been spreading and morphing into self pity and general unhappiness with my life.  I think of it as an emotional temper tantrum.   I started to get angry about everything and at everyone. I ended up in a very dark place. I’ve done this before, of course, but I’m tired of it.

Have you ever noticed that most unhappiness stems from wishing things were other than they are?  We wish a spouse, partner, child, parent, employer, co-worker, job, house or bank account was something other than what it is. We almost can’t help ourselves when it comes to material things because we are constantly bombarded with advertisements and messages that we need more, bigger and better material things.  I think that attitude has spilled over into our relationships, employment and other aspects of our lives.   In my opinion wishing things were other than what they are is an illegitimate form of unhappiness.

So I stopped wishing and complaining. I reminded myself that it is good to accept things and people as they are.   Oh that doesn’t mean I don’t want some changes to happen in the future.  It is a totally present state of mind.  I accept everything as it is and I do it gladly. This includes me and where I am in my life.

Funny thing - positive changes happen when I gladly accept things as they are.  For starters, I get along better with the people in my life and I am much happier.  Imagine that!

Q:  Have you experienced an "emotional temper tantrum"?  How do you resolve it?

The See Saw of Parenting

“No.  I am sorry but we can’t turn around and go back to get your teddy bear.  You were holding it when we got into the car? What happened to it?  I will be late for work if we go back”, I said firmly to Gary. He knew there was no changing my mind.   He made a few sorrowful sounds and emitted a few sighs but he seemed resigned to going to preschool without his teddy bear for share day. 

As we drove to preschool I kept going over in my mind the justification for not returning to the house.   I carried on a conversation with myself in my head, “It would take at least  an extra 20 minutes to go back to the house and pick up the teddy bear.  I had a meeting at work at 7:30 a.m.  Traffic would be lighter but still I couldn’t do all of that,  drop Gary off at school and make it to the office in time for the meeting. It would be good lesson for Gary to learn.”

“Isn’t  there something else you can share?  Can you take your share turn tomorrow instead of today?” I asked.  Gary was silent.  Gary gave me a rather sorrowful and somewhat angry look as I dropped him off at preschool.  I raced backed to the car hoping traffic would be light so I would not be late for the meeting.

“You seem a bit frazzled this morning”, one of my co-workers said to me as I raced past her desk on my way to the meeting. “It wasn’t a good morning.  Gary was upset that I wouldn’t go back to the house to get his teddy bear.  He needed it today for share day”, I replied.   “Wow I can’t believe you were so tough on a 3 year old”, she responded.  Well, my then  cynical self replied, “Life is full of disappointment. He may as well get used to it.”  I felt guilty the entire day that I did not go back and get the teddy bear for Gary.

Parenting is a constant balancing act.  We struggle to balance love and discipline every day.  We struggle to balance the demands of work and parenting.  Sometimes we strike the balance and other times we fail miserably.  It is a daily challenge.  I would remind myself on days that I had failed miserably that I had succeeded on other days and that the most important thing was to let my children know that I love them.

Parenting reminds me of a see saw.  One day I feel like I have conquered it all and I’m riding high like I am on the top end of the see saw.  The next day I feel like I have failed miserably, I'm depressed and I am at the bottom of the see saw - on the ground.  Other days I feel serene like I am balanced on the see saw.   It can change daily, hourly and even moment by moment. It is a wild ride.

“I’m sorry I could not go back and get your teddy bear this morning, Gary”, I said to him that evening.  “I love you,” I said. Gary came over and gave me a big hug.  He has always been a very loving and forgiving person.  I’m a lucky Mom.

Q: Do you sometimes feel as if you are on a see saw when it comes to parenting?

Raising Children the Best We Can (Part Four)

“What do you mean you can’t count money,” I said to Jessica.  “It is simple. Here is how you do it,” I impatiently said in a raised voice.   A five minute, hostile demonstration ensued after which I left to clean up the kitchen after dinner.   Jessica struggled with that issue and others for quite a while. She didn’t ask me again for any help with her homework.   Of course my message to Jessica was that she was stupid even though I don’t think I ever  said that word.  

“If you don’t leave us alone I am going to disappear in the night and you will never ever see the children again!”  I told David.   I thought for sure he would have given up and gone away by now.  It had been over 11 months since I filed for divorce.  During those eleven months, David punched and hit me in front of the children.  He called me at all hours of the day and night and threatened me with further violence.   David regularly threatened to kill me in front of Jessica.    I was absolutely desperate.  I thought about this for months before I said it to David.   I spend a good bit of time thinking about what state I would go to and how I would change my name so he couldn’t find us.    It had no effect on David.  Maybe he didn’t believe me.   Maybe it was just a fantasy but I don’t think so. 

 “Frank can you please speak to your brother and get him to leave us alone?”  I said into the phone.   I don’t know how I had the courage to call him but I sensed that Frank would believe me when I told him what was happening.  I hadn’t spoken to Frank or anyone in David’s family since a few months before I filed for divorce.  Frank was the one and only person David looked up to.   Why hadn’t I asked for his help earlier?  Was I was embarrassed or ashamed?  I wasn’t the one acting like a maniac. Frank was, as usual, gracious and kind.   Shortly after that conversation David moved back to his home state.  

The court eventually entered an order for child support.   David simply ignored the court order.  He never paid any child support.  I wasn’t surprised and really didn’t much care.  All I ever wanted from David was for him to leave us alone.  I sensed that if I tried to enforce the child support order David would come back into our lives.  The money was not worth it.  Years later when I tried to collect some child support that is exactly what happened.  I abandoned my claim forever. 

 “Samuel has been missing on his bike for several hours,” the after school babysitter told me over the phone.   He was 5 years old at the time.  I left the office in a panic and drove around our neighborhood.  I found Samuel riding his bike with some older boys in the desert.   This wasn’t the first or last time I would received that phone call

 “Mrs. Smith this is Dr.  Howard.  I am the school psychologist at Remington Elementary School.   We tested Samuel in preparation for kindergarten.   He has a learning disability and we recommend he be placed in a special education class for a year before matriculating to the regular kindergarten class.”    I left the office in tears and drove home.

“M’am this is the police department.  We have you son Samuel here at the convenience store.  He and some other boys tried to steal some chewing gum.”  Samuel was seven years old at the time.

“I quit,” the babysitter told me as soon as I walked in the door.  “Samuel is impossible. He doesn’t follow any rules. He is impossible to control.  He does what he wants when he wants.  He took off on his bike again today and was gone for 3 hours.  I was afraid to call you again,” she said in exasperation.    I couldn’t argue with her because it was all so true.  This was the third sitter that had quit in about 4 months.  As if finding them was not difficult enough – keeping them was even harder.   I hoped she would agree to stay until I could find someone else.

“Samuel pack a suitcase and get in the car.  You have to find someplace else to live,”   I said.  “Where are you going?” Jessica asked Samuel.  “Mom is giving me away, “Samuel replied very matter of factly.   After we got in the car I started to drive around our neighborhood.  “Samuel you have to find another place to live unless you can agree to follow the rules,” I said sternly.  He was about seven years old. “Will you follow the rules?”  I asked.  Samuel was silent.  I stopped the car. This kid is going to call my bluff I remember thinking to myself.  He is the most stubborn kid on the planet. 

“Get out and go knock on one of these doors and ask if you can live there,”   I said. Samuel didn’t move.    “Do you want to come home and follow the rules?”  I asked hopefully.  Again Samuel was silent.  He got out of the car and stood at the corner holding his little suitcase. My heart sank.  It was getting dark.  “Have you changed your mind?”  I asked Samuel.  He was silent. “OK I am leaving now,” I said.   I drove away and around the block.  My heart was racing. What was I going to do?   I waited what seemed like an eternity and then I drove back to where I had left him.  He was standing in the exact same spot on the corner still clutching his little suitcase.  I opened the passenger door.  “Do you want to come home and follow the rules?” I asked. Samuel nodded his head, “yes”.    He got into the car.  Samuel’s behavior improved somewhat after that. At least I was able to keep a babysitter for longer than a month or two. It was an abominable thing to do but I was desperate.  I couldn’t work unless I had a babysitter. I couldn’t keep a babysitter unless Samuel behaved.  Samuel’s refusal to follow even the most basic rules could result in him getting hurt or worse.

Q: Under trying circumstances the balance between discipline and abuse sometimes can be hard to discern.   It is easy to look back when life becomes easier and berate yourself but I think perhaps we did the best we could under the circumstances.  There are things I did as a parent I am so ashamed of but hopefully I am learning to forgive myself.  Have you had similar experiences and feelings?

Marriage and sometimes even a love story (Part Six)

“You don’t need to do that,” Nancy, Brian’s sister said to the young respiratory technician.  She had just placed an oxygen mask over their Father’s mouth to start some treatment.   We were all standing in the hospital room around their Father’s bed, Brian, me, Nancy and her husband, Bob.  The last year had been a roller coaster of ups and downs regarding his health.  Brian was very close to his Father.    “He’s dying,” Nancy continued.  The poor young girl looked like a fawn that had just looked into the headlights of an oncoming car.  She took her machine and slithered out of the room.  “How could Nancy know that?” I asked myself. 

A moment or so later I heard a gruesome sound.  It reminded me of the sound I have heard mortally wounded animals make in TV documentaries.  It was emanating from Brian.  He was face down on the bed next to his Father’s lifeless body.  I wanted to go over and comfort Brian but I couldn’t seem to move.   That sound went on for what seemed like an eternity.   After a few minutes Brian pulled himself together.   He and Nancy went out into the hall where they made arrangements for the body.   Our wedding was to take place in less than two weeks but for now we had to plan a funeral. 

Brian and I didn’t talk on the ride home from the hospital.  I so wanted to comfort him at least one part of me did.  I had come into this relationship as a strong, independent single mother of three children who was competing in a very intense business environment.  I had just recently learned to be tough.  Instinctively I was afraid of getting sucked into the traditional female role.  Sadly I thought it would demean me.   I did not yet know how to be tough and tender.

 I felt terrible for a long time that I had failed Brian because I didn’t hug him or make any overt act to comfort him.  Emotions were very scary to me back then.  I couldn’t let my guard down.  I literally felt paralyzed from reaching out to Brian.  If only I had some time and energy to really think about all of this back then!  It might have spared Brian and I a lot of agony.

Women instinctively know how to do that stuff except for me or so I thought.  I berated myself.   I wasn’t a good wife or mother because I lacked that gene.  I wondered if I was born that way or whether the demands of the workplace and life eradicated that part of me.  I always felt inadequate especially back then so I just added this to my list of inadequacies. 

Q: Do you struggle, as I have, with the nature of the role we are supposed to play or the qualities we are supposed to possess as a wife or partner?  ( It has certainly evolved and changed dramatically since the 50s and 60s.)

Grief (Part Two)

 I wasn’t in this room at the moment Brian died.  But still I was with him at the moment of his death.   I was attending the performance of Swan Lake by the Russian ballet. It was my first outing without Brian or the children in several years. I felt so guilty about going that I almost cancelled my plans. It was during the Dance of the Swans that Brian died.   Strange how I knew that.  As I raised myself up from the floor I felt the same peace I had experienced during that dance.  I had been transfixed during that dance. I have never experienced anything like it before or since.  It was as if the ballerinas were angels floating up to heaven. My thoughts now turned to the children.  I must tell them.  

Q: Have you had a similar experience where you sensed something was true or had happened before actually becoming aware of it?

Measure of Success?

A few of my son’s friends and acquaintances from college dropped by over the holidays – a couple of guys and a lone girl. They were in route to a concert. They stayed only a few minutes but I could see it in her eyes.   It gave rise to that sadly familiar feeling that I have been battling since I moved here four years ago.    My daughter moved here first. She and her husband were just starting out and they bought a house in a subdivision that is a great location physically but not highly regarded by the inhabitants of this city.   When I moved here to be near them I thought how silly to buy a house some 20 or 30 minutes away.  When two people are working and lead very busy lives 20 or 30 minutes can be the same as a couple of hours and result in fewer visits.  So I bought a house in the same subdivision as my daughter.  I am immensely happy with my choice until I let other peoples’ attitudes enter my world. “Where do you live”, I asked my son’s acquaintance, thinking she lived in another city.  She proceeded to tell me she lived in one of the most exclusive areas of this city.  She tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her feelings of disdain for where we live.  Maybe I was imaging it but I don’t think so.  She was definitely uncomfortable and maybe a bit contemptuous of where we live.  And I am sad to say so am I sometimes.

I so don’t want to measure success by how much money I earn, where I live, the vacations I take, how busy I am, how much I accomplish in any given day, the clothes I wear and on and on.  I battle those demons quite well for certain periods of time.  But inexorably I get drawn back to that material measure of success.   I am so disappointed in myself when I feel embarrassed by where I live and the choices I have made.   I worry that my son notices both his friend’s and my attitudes.

You see,  I strive to measure my success(if it needs measuring at all) by the quality of my relationships and connections to my family, friends and the community, by the time I spend doing for others and by my conduct that I hope reflects my spiritual beliefs.   Why is that so difficult to do?  The obvious answer is that we live in a materialistic world where you are valued and judged by the money you earn, the size of your bank account, your network of business connections, where you live, the car you drive and on and on.  A definitive measuring stick is already in place vis a vis these icons of success.  In contrast, the “successes” I strive for are rather intangible, difficult to measure and certainly are not highly valued or regarded in the world we inhabit. 

My four children and I moved to this city together some four years ago. We live in the same neighborhood.  We see each other at least weekly but usually much more often.  I passed up several lucrative job opportunities to pursue what I wanted to do and how I wanted to live.  When I tell acquaintances all or some of this they look at me askance.   My sense is that they think I am strange or weird.  I definitely feel like an outsider in mainstream America.

I am disappointed in myself when I allow this young girl’s looks of derision to take me down the path of regret for the choices I have made and the life I lead.  I chastised myself for a time for not being more mainstream. Then I revisited the huge positives in my life and the regrets were dispelled.

I am waiting for and working toward the day when I am totally comfortable with the way I measure success.  I am making progress. This time I was able to excoriate the feeling of failure much more quickly than in the past.   It would be great if the world would set a different standard of success but, sadly, I am not waiting for that to happen.   I seem to be out of step with the world a good bit and that can be a lonely feeling.   Still I will continue on with my chosen life path recognizing that one of my faults is that I look too much for validation from others. I’m working on that too!


Q: How do you measure success?  Does your life really reflect what you value and how you measure success?