Sometimes I have clarity. I clearly see my dream. Then I look down to check the path for trip hazards and when I look back up, the dream has become shrouded again.
I will continue to seek the path to my dream. To do otherwise is self-betrayal. To be true to myself. That is a big part of it. To know myself and not compromise my own identity and values to conform or get by.
It is very hard for me. My personality is to be pliant and submissive. I laugh as I write that. I haven’t always been such. I used to argue at the drop of a hat with anyone about anything.
In trying to become the kind of wife I want to be, I have given up some things I shouldn’t have let go. He doesn’t press for anything. It has been my own quest to change and become the partner I believe he deserves. But, in doing so, I have retreated too far with some things.
I don’t reach for things if I am not able to get them on my own. If I will need help, I usually simply forfeit. I short myself when I should be letting him and others close enough to help. I may have just hit upon the key.
Letting someone help means being vulnerable. I have too often equated vulnerability with weakness. I don’t think of that with others, just with myself. I measure myself with a totally different set of standards. I love to help others. I don’t allow myself to need help.
Perhaps for 2016, I will let go of my self-imposed restrictions and allow myself to ask for help. Ask for support. Let others love me.
It is the only way to fulfill my dreams. I will not be able to do what I want to do without his support and his help. He always encourages me to take the next step. I am the one standing on the same step day after day.
That is not entirely true. If I look back, I see how far I have come. And I do see the next step. Just muster the wherewithal to climb up one more. After I get that one done, I can work on the next. One step. And another after that. The dream is there, up ahead.
I am enjoying the challenge of the climb. That ever ascending path. That shrouded dream. The faith to keep on the chase. A good way to live. Seeking the dream and yet not losing the joy of the pursuit. A delicate balance. Like the blossom of the orchid.
My trip to Maui was multi-layered. Time with the children. Seeing the sights. Relaxing in the warm sunshine.
The unexpected layer was discovering myself not weak and old. I am not beyond pushing physical limits. I hiked two five mile trails. One was challenging. The other was not for the faint of heart.
The ridge hike in the rain and the mud is the one of which I am most proud. I was slow. But, my son was absolutely patient and encouraging. He guided my steps and we joked along the way. What a kind person he is! I did the hike without incident and without excess pain and fatigue during or afterward.
I didn’t and perhaps still don’t appreciate how hard I was rolled at Big Beach. I had some bruises I didn’t realize I had gotten until the places turned black and blue. It took days for all the sand to come out of my ears. I still have sand inside the lining of my swimsuit. I will have to work on getting it out when my package arrives in the mail. (I packed up extra clothes, shoes and my souvenirs in a box and am letting the mail lady bring it to me rather than having to check a bag at the airport.) I didn’t panic when tumbling under the wave. I just relaxed and waited for my head to come up and my feet go down. I didn’t feel any pain.
Again, I marveled at my endurance traveling home. I awoke especially early in the morning. I was unable to sleep at all on the plane during the overnight flight I took late that evening. I was up about thirty six hours. I wasn’t really exhausted feeling. I was sleepy by the time I had my bath of course. That is usual for me. But, I did not feel horrible as I expected.
Those long hikes didn’t hurt my feet. A good pair of shoes made the difference. My feet often hurt in the morning just from an ordinary day at work where I sit most of the day. I do not like wearing athletic shoes. But, I did buy two new pairs of casual work shoes last week and had a pedicure to take better care of my poorly treated appendages. They deserve the best care as reward for taking me along marvelous paths.
I discovered I am more physically durable than I believed. I did more and suffered effects less than I ever imagined possible. This body, even at this moment, has a spot or two of sharp pain and a spot or two aching just it has these many years. Nevertheless, I am pleasantly recalling my adventures in the middle of the wild blue Pacific. My body didn’t ache and my mind didn’t race. I longed only for certain amber eyes as the days blended into each other.
How does one live on island time here at home? How does one live physically challenging adventures here at home? How does one overcome the compulsion to push against the waves and get rolled rather than bobbing and floating, laughing and loving through the tumultuous days? There is a time to dive into the waves and a time to paddle along the stream. There is also a time to drift and notice the color of life. The color of my life is aquamarine. What color is yours?