time and circles and whatever's in my head

I either don't write for sometimes months at a time, or I am constantly writing, mostly in my head. Example: I'm standing in the shower today thinking of some real life issues that need addressing and somehow I start thinking of the bigger picture.

Things like; at one point in time, I thought my ex-husband was it. THAT was were I was supposed to be. But then I wasn't. Now I am sure that my purpose in life is to give my husband my time and teach him the things that he doesn't understand. Poor Mr. straight-and-narrow ended up married to me. He married a girl that just had one little tattoo on her arm from when she was 20 and she was a country girl. I've tried to be a country girl, a mid-western girl, and a west coast girl, but none of them ever worked for me.

Now the poor guy, the one who lives in a world where there are rules and SOPs (standards of procedure) and lines in the sand, is married to me. Somebody who these days has 4 or 5 tattoos and is planning to get more soon, has her nose pierced, and her hair is never the same length or color from year to year. I embody the tortured writer's soul occasionally. I ask him all the time what the hell he is doing with me. But somehow it works.

We got into an argument recently (married people argue?? who knew??) and I opened my heart and my mind and asked for guidance. I'm a Buddhist, so I asked the universe, the karma gods, and Buddha what am I supposed to do right now? The answer came to me as I meditated. Love is always the answer. Love the people you have in your life. Teach them and be open to their teachings for you.

I have spent my whole life saying "I want to go home.....I just don't know where it is". This gypsy soul has searched through the west coast, Hawaii, the south, and the Midwest for some place that felt like home, (see above) and it was only a few years ago when I ended up in a place I'd never thought to go. I got to Maine through a series of crazy unforeseen steps. I originally ended back up in Michigan and now I realize that I was there for a completely different reason that I thought. I was where I needed to be for my hip surgery, and then it was time for me to move on. I got to Maine and something in my soul whispered 'you're home' .

My point is you never know if you're at some point in your life for your own reason, is this the important stuff, or other, bigger reasons that you don't know yet. Some times you just have to close your eyes and wait for the answers. No matter what faith you have, they will come to you.

I am currently stationed back in Maryland on my husband's last tour in the Navy and although I wasn't thrilled to be here, and living out in the middle of no where presents some challenges. I am here because finally after all these years, I am really getting some where with my doctors, and I believe when we leave here in two years (because right now, I just can't see retiring here) I will have a diagnosis. Finally a firm diagnosis and an understanding of what's wrong with me and a treatment plan. So I hold onto that. My hubs is here to network with the people he needs to talk to as he nears retiring from active duty and I am here for some answers.

Like I said, you just never know if it's your own reasons that bring you to a place or if there is a bigger plan. The important stuff never shows up in your best clothes or scheduled celebrations. It creeps up on you in the ordinary day to day life, in the moments when you're not looking, and then....suddenly.....you get it.

the class of 1991

It's after 11 o'clock at night. I just took all my nighttime meds and hubs and I are settling in for the evening. The animals are fed and the day is winding down. It's time for bed soon, so why does inspiration otherwise known as (occasionally or sometimes my best writing) strike at these odd hours. I do more writing (even if it in notebooks or in my head) in these odd hours than at any other time during my day. Even when I want to sit down and write in the morning, but alas it comes late at night.

I have finally started (in somewhat earnest) writing my book. The first 1027 words are in a document saved to my desktop, so these days I find myself putting more and more things throughout my day in the context of how does this relate to my story? The memoir that I want to share.

Today I found a link to a business that somebody I went to school with forever ago is running. It got me to thinking. I see people that I sat in class with that have become chiropractors, massage therapists, business owners, business people, analysts, financial something-or-other....and I thought. What have I done? I don't have my own business or travel the world for meetings. So are they more successful than I have been? Out of the people that graduated in my class, what are we out in the world now?

Then I thought, wait a minute. I am a writer*, a blogger, a mother, and a Navy Wife (something I take great pride in). I serve our country too, just in a different capacity. I tell my oldest daughter that because she is a military wife now too. She'll be 19 tomorrow and she's married to a Marine. I make a difference with my blog and my Facebook page to women I know very well and women I have never met. I do the research for chronic pain conditions and I share the newest information with people that are struggling with the kind of pain that would make most people cross their eyes, and these people do it every single day. I know this because I do too.

And I'm a home schooler. I have taken on the task of raising and educating my youngest child because I honestly believe I can do a better job then the public school system. I have a college degree and I have the love and the hope of sending my kids out into the world to make a difference. My oldest is already out there, and she makes a difference in the people she has in her life and I'm proud of her for that. My son graduates next year, and he will go out there and be a good man.

So what really is the class of 1991? We're friends, and lovers, and fighters, and business people, and wives, and husbands, and students, and parents. I haven't kept up with the people that went off to business school and work in suits and offices with secretaries. But I found out that Steph and I share a bond of broken hearts and unimaginable pain. I found out after all these years that K and I share a chronic pain condition and we both know about live in and around the Navy. S and I are both married to the military, through our husbands, and through our service. We take care of everything when our brave husbands are away. And if it can break, blow up, or bleed while they are gone, it will. And we handle it with amazing strength and grace.

I myself have survived death, taxes and lightening literally hitting our house. Dead armadillos and cars that won't start, blown pipes, and birthdays spent far away from one another.

But out of the class of 1991, who are we twenty years later? Some of us are still friends, some of us drifted apart. Some of us bounced around for a while and then found each other again. I play Words with Friends with D. After all these years, I still get to hang out a little bit through game apps with the guy that I spent my junior and senior year hanging out with because we both took the new kid placement tests at the same time. I chat with Steph and share youtube videos posted by K. And even by one of my bestest friends who graduated in our year, but she was 6000 miles away when it happened. My Gingy. I graduated with her too.


                                                 LOVE IS GREAT AND SEX IS FUN
                                                     WE ARE THE CLASS OF 91!!


*I have been published. Once back in 1999, in  a book of poetry.so yes, I'm a writer =)