Why

Have you even had a bad odor in your kitchen and you cannot find the source?  You clean and still cannot eliminate it.  The cleansers you used cover the odor, for awhile.  Air fresheners do the same, for awhile.  But, eventually that nagging odor is back.  It will never go away until you find the source and remove it.

When I began my Manifesting Mount Dora project, I had no clue how my new home and life in Mount Dora could come to pass, so I was truly leaving it up to the Universe.  But, I felt so strongly that I belonged there, I believed it was inevitable that my life there would manifest.  I used the Law of Attraction to help it come about.  After 15 months, I am not one iota closer to my dream.

I started every morning with hopeful expectations and every night ended with sad disappointment.  I told myself not to be disappointed because negativity only attracts negative outcomes.  I covered up my sad disappointment with visualizations, affirmations, more photos on my vision board, meditations, happy thoughts and smiles.  I believed that a door would open, an idea would appear, the right person would show up, SOMETHING would happen to draw me closer to manifesting Mount Dora.  But, each day passed and nothing happened.  Most nights I covered up the sad disappointment, but sometimes, like that stinky kitchen smell, I could not mask it and the sad disappointment saturated the air around me and I felt like a failure, a fraud.  A few times the stench of sad disappointment lasted for days or even weeks, but, eventually I tried  something new and covered it up again.  I kept telling myself I was not sad, I was not disappointed, I was not discouraged.  But, the truth is, I WAS sad, I WAS disappointed, I WAS discouraged and all I did was bury those feelings.

The last 15 months have been so difficult - emotionally and physically.  Illness and pain have plagued me and I cannot help but wonder if that rotten, sad disappointment is the root cause of my maladies.  Perhaps, I am poisoning myself.  Maybe not.  I don't know.  Just like I don't know how to manifest Mount Dora, I don't know how to get well, how to feel better.

This is what I do know.  I would rather feel nothing every night than feel sad disappointment.

I appreciate each of you who have been following my blog.  Your comments and encouragements have helped me to keep trying.  The number of people who read my posts shocked and pleased me.  I don't want to discourage any of you from your own manifestations.  I still think the Law of Attraction can work, but, obviously, I either don't know how to make it work or I am giving up too soon or, maybe, I don't belong in Mount Dora despite my strong feelings otherwise.  This was an experiment and as any researcher will tell you, not every experiment yields the results you desire.

I need to go through my day expecting what can realistically happen within the confines of my daily activities. I need to end my day without sad disappointment.  I need to feel better.  That's it.  I found the source of the odor and I am removing it.  

It is What You Make of It

We have all heard sayings that life is what you make of it; that we should control our situations and not let them control us. I have a simple example of how one's perception can change the meaning and importance of a situation or an opportunity.

Recently I was working at a client's office and one of the employees started ranting about Facebook.  He said things like, "Facebook is all about ego - me, me, me.  See what I am doing.  See what I think.  I am the most interesting person on earth.  Everything I say is important and must be seen.  I will never be on Facebook.  I am not that impressed with myself and it is a colossal time-waster." 

When I tried to tell him about how I use Facebook, he would not even listen.  He had a preconceived idea about a medium he has never used and he did not want me or anyone else to refute his image of Facebook.  What he refused to see is that Facebook, as with most other things in life, is what you make of it.  Yes, I do use Facebook to post personal communications about my life, but those types of posts are infrequent.  And, I definitely use Facebook to keep up with what my friends and family are doing and to share photos.  But, I also use Facebook for inspiration, for news, for community activities, for political and social activism, for appreciating art and architecture, for travel information and suggestions, to read blogs, and to meet people from all over the world.  

I belong to several Facebook groups and pages that exist only to post inspirational stories and sayings.  One of my favorite things to do first thing in the morning is to go on Facebook and read the first inspirational messages of the day.  What a great way to start the morning!

I also belong to several political pages and groups and I use their posts to keep up with what is happening in politics around the country and in the world.  Likewise, I belong to Facebook groups that involve political and social activism and I use them to also keep up with news and to become involved in activities, to sign petitions and to share my thoughts on various subjects.  

Some of my Facebook contacts are local business and organizations and businesses and organizations in my favorite town, Mount Dora and in my favorite city, Manhattan.  The news they post about activities, sales, drives and other happenings help me stay up-to-date with my community and with my two favorite places to visit and help me to plan activities with my family.  

I belong to some pages that just share beautiful things like art and architecture.  In fact, I just re-posted a picture of a Van Gogh painting this morning so all my contacts could share in the beauty of his painted sunflowers. I am connected with some travel pages and love seeing the photos of places all over the world and reading the travel blogs and comments.  

But, without a doubt, one of my favorite things about Facebook is that I can make friends with people all over the world.  I may never meet them in person, but I treasure our online friendships just the same.  Through Facebook, I have made friends with people in Canada, Saudi Arabia, France, Egypt, Australia, Great Britain, Italy, Malaysia, and other countries, as well as people in other states here in the U.S.  I have learned so much about other cultures and beliefs.  I have followed political upheavals in Egypt and Syria, offering support as best I can through social media.  My world is much larger and more colorful because of Facebook.  

Facebook is just an example of making something what you want it to be.  Your Facebook can be all about you or it can be more, much more.  The guy who was ranting about Facebook did not even want to try and think about it in a different way.  He had this idea of what it was and he did not want me or anyone else to prove him wrong.  Unfortunately, that means he misses out on the big world called Facebook.  

A friend that I met on Facebook recently sent me a message about her life.  Due to employment and financial situations, she and her immediate family moved from her home country to another one in her region of the world.  Life in her new location is much different and she has struggled with great unhappiness about the change.  In her previous home, her life revolved more around her family, extended and immediate, and her friends.  Having left many of them behind, she had to find a new focus.  It took awhile, but I was so glad to hear that she has found fulfillment and happiness in her work, has discovered and nurtured new passions and is exploring returning to school for an additional degree.  In spite of the hardships and sadness she faced in her new environment, she has found a way to make something good and worthwhile out of it.  She may never feel the same about her new country as she did her homeland, but she is adapting in a way that will allow her to find a level of contentment and fulfillment.  I enjoy following her experiences and have learned much about the cultures of both places through what she shares with me.  She is not only an example of "it is what you make of it", but also an example of what Facebook can be.  

I have softened my approach to Manifesting the Mount Dora for the same "it is what you make of it" reason.  I love my life, but I am hoping to create a different life.  I was focusing too much on what I want to create and not enough on what is right here before me.  Because I was looking ahead, I was getting frustrated with what had not changed and not appreciating all that is good about what has not changed.  I also am working on accepting that my Manifesting Mount Dora project is a work in progress and I have to appreciate the process.  Manifesting Mount Dora, the project and the end result, are what I make of them.   

Walking Away

I have been thinking about my father a lot recently.  Maybe because of Brene Brown's writing about living an authentic life and dealing with shame and guilt in her book The Gifts of Imperfection and perhaps because someone shared with me their desire to cut a family member out of her life, as I did my father about ten years ago.

My father was a typical mid-20th century husband and father.  He expected to have a stay-at-home wife to raise his children, take care of his needs and provide him with a comfortable home life.  He was open to having several children, as long as he was able to pay for the bills and his wife was willing to take care of them.  I doubt if he, like most men of his time, even thought much about the consequences of having children, other than the cost.  His mind was on his business and children were his wife's concern.

Unfortunately, after the birth of four children and the death of one, his wife, and my mother, checked out of this earthly life at the relatively young age of 39.  I was an infant when she passed and my older sisters were 10 and 7.  Not only was my unprepared father left with three children, one a baby, but those kids were also girls - a fact that seemed to make the situation even harder for him.  His mother came from Chicago and took care of us for about 18 months - long enough for my father to find another wife, my stepmother who passed last year, to raise his kids.  That marriage failed quickly and again he was faced with three daughters to raise without the help of a woman since my grandmother's age prevented her from coming to his rescue a second time.  So, he did the best he could.  His best was not all that good in some ways, but he adequately provided for our physical needs.

My father was not the huggy, warm type of dad.  Not at all like those wonderful widowed TV dads who are wise, generous and loving.  He worked hard - rising at 4 AM to run his business, often working on Saturdays and Sundays.  He was impatient, demanding and unforgiving of mistakes and transgressions.  A glass accidentally dropped and broken was treated the same as if it were hurled purposefully across the room in a fit of anger.  I lost my greatly-needed eyeglasses when I was nine and, as punishment, he refused to buy me new ones.  I spent the next eight years sitting in the front of classrooms, squinting to read the chalkboard and books, and living with almost constant headaches until I went to live with my stepmother and she took me to the optometrist and I soon sported new glasses that allowed me to see so much that I had been missing.

My father had a temper, but he never hit us.  He would yell, he would slam doors, he would subject us to days, weeks and even months of silence for not acting or being who he wished we were.  My two older sisters left home as soon as they graduated high school, leaving me alone to deal with him.  Nothing I did was good enough, right enough or fast enough.  I was an A student, but felt like a failure.  When I was 14 we had a silly argument over who sang a song and he stopped talking to me - for months.  I became depressed; my friends and teachers worried about me.  A guidance counselor intervened and eventually my father allowed me to go live with my stepmother in another state.

At first, I was just relieved and happy to have him out of my life, but since my stepmother forced me to stay in contact with him, I soon fell back into the old pattern of wanting to please him and never being able to do so.  He visited me and I visited him a few times over the next three years.  Then, I ended up moving to the state where he had settled and we even lived in the same town for a couple of years.  He traveled a lot with his business, which allowed us to maintain an almost normal and friendly relationship.  Then I moved 100 miles away to go to college and within a year, I was married.  My husband I moved to another state.  My father visited whenever he was traveling through our city.  Eventually, after he retired, we ended up living in the same state again and for three years, my father resided in a mobile home on the property where my husband and I had built our home.

Living so close together was a bad idea.  Our tenuous relationship strained with the constant contact.  My father routinely invaded our privacy, using the "emergency" house key we gave him to enter our home whenever he wanted, even when we were sleeping .  He was rude and argumentative with my husband and my in-laws.  He told lies about us to my sisters.  My marriage bore the stress of the constant problems he caused.  My father became more and more combative, even speaking badly of us to the people in the small town where we lived.  After three years of escalating conflict, he moved to the state where one of my other sisters lived.

I was so relieved to be rid of him, again, but he was soon inching his way back into my life.  Knowing that he was not welcome, he became nicer and I let my guard down, again.  And, eventually, I would regret it, again.  Over and over that happened.  He quickly ruined his relationship with the daughter that he was living near and moved to another state to actually live with my half-sister.  She was so sure that she and dad could occupy the same house in harmony.  Wrong.  And, then it was back to my state, back to me.  He had no place to go, he would be homeless, or so he led me to believe.  No way he could live with my husband and me after the horrible experience we had with him living next door.  So, I bought him a piece of land and a mobile home a mile away.  Even that was too close.  He started out nice and cooperative and seemingly appreciative of all I was doing for him.  That lasted just long enough for the closing on the property to take place.  Then, his ugly side came out again.  Constant complaints and demands.  Nothing I did was good enough. Soon he was telling lies about me to my sisters and his neighbors.  But, I put up with it for eight long years.

Why?  Why would I allow myself to be treated like that?  I kept hoping that if I did enough for him, he would become the dad I always wanted and needed.  Time was running out.  He was aging.  I only had so much time left to finally get the dad I had always hoped for.  I did more and more for him, especially as his health declined and he no longer drove.  And, still he disrespected and criticized me.  Nothing was enough, I was not enough.  The more I did, the more he berated me, the more he complained, the more he demanded.  As he aged, I felt trapped.  How could I break off my relationship with him if his health was declining?  He needed me.  I could not abandon him.  I resigned to a life of his verbal and emotional abuse.  Until. . .

Who knows what causes that moment - that moment in time when you say, "Enough! No more!"  I stopped to check on him one morning on my way to work.  He began berating me for not buying him a car.  His truck had broken down a couple of years before, but he was already rarely driving due to his health.  I took him grocery shopping, to doctor appointments and anywhere else he needed to go.  Then, he got this idea that he could start driving again and that I should buy him a car.  When I refused, he became angry and for weeks he had argued with me about it.  That morning he started the argument anew, but that time he accused me of abusing him.  He said I was a horrible daughter and that he had called a state agency to report me for elder abuse.  I knew he was lying, as he often did, but, for some unknown reason, at that moment something snapped inside me.  No, that is not the correct description - some slammed shut - like a door closing on our relationship.  Without a word, I walked away.  I never saw him again.  I wrote a letter to him, to the VA Hospital that provided his health care and to my sisters stating that I was no longer responsible for him in any way.  He could continue to live on my property, but I had ceased providing him with transportation or any other aid or services.  I detailed some of the psychological and emotional abuse I had experienced from him and declared myself free from any his manipulation and cruelty.  Three years later I received a call from a deputy sheriff informing me that my father had been found dead in his mobile home and had been deceased for several days.  He died alone.  His life did not have to end that way, but his own actions brought about his lonely demise.

The day I walked away from him was a day of rebirth for me.  It was the beginning of my new life - a life that would take a few years to develop, but a life that was in the birthing process. Taking action to leave that abusive situation opened my mind to clearly seeing and evaluating other relationships and situations in my life.   It would lead to the end of my marriage, the terminations of some "friendships" that were unhealthy, the creation of new relationships and a new life.

I am a person who often suffers from guilt.  But, surprisingly, when I walked away from my father that day, I never suffered any guilt or shame about my decision.  Some people were shocked and judgmental about my decision.  My father was usually funny and charming around people he first met or saw infrequently.  Friends and acquaintances of mine could not understand why I had such problems with him or why I cut him from my life.  They saw a man who was putting on a show - a witty man with great magnetism; I lived with a man who was rarely nice to me unless he needed something from me.  Even the disdain and criticism of these people did not affect me.  I was strong and confident in my decision.  My only regret was that I had not walked away long, long before.

Here is what I learned from my decision to walk away:

• You can never mold someone into the person you want them to be. 
• Abuse does not have to be physical.  Emotional and psychological abuse are just as damaging and may even have effects that last longer.
• Leave an abusive relationship as soon as you can.  
• Anyone can be an abuser - your spouse, your partner, a parent, a sibling, a friend - ANYONE.
• No one deserves abuse.  
• Manipulation is abuse. 
• You can change your life, one step at a time. 
• Don't pay attention to those who criticize or ostracize you for removing an abuser from your life. 
• If your friends do not support your decision to remove an abuser from your life, they are not your friends. 
• If other family members do not support your decision to remove an abuser from your life, feel free to remove them, too.
• NEVER feel guilty for doing what is right and healthy for you.  
• There are supportive, loving people in the world and if you are wasting all your time trying to please an abuser, you are missing the opportunity to have wonderful relationships with those people.  

In a way, my decision to walk away that day led to Manifesting Mount Dora.  Back then, I would never have dreamed I could even think about manifesting something wonderful in my life.  In fact, I could not even imagine having a wonderful life.  Now I do.  All because I walked away.  

Mount Dora Renewal

Three days in Mount Dora have helped to ease the fatigue of three months of long work hours, several illnesses and some painful back issues and many days and evenings of being the caregiver for my two grandchildren.  On Thursday, my man and I and our two dogs headed south on a rainy afternoon.  We were greeted by 20 mph winds and intermittent showers in our favorite town, but nothing drastic enough to keep us inside.  Soon we were visiting Grantham Park on Lake Dora, walking the streets of the “old city” and dining on delicious Cuban food at Copacabana.  Friday and Saturday were filled with many long walks with our dogs, wonderful food and conversations at Copacabana, One Flight Up and Cody’s on 4th.  We shopped - particularly at my favorite boutique, Em’z on Fifth.  We rested and read.  On Sunday, for the first time, we visited the weekly Open Air Market and purchased some fabulous French bread, pastries and biscotti from the booth of A Wish or Two Ago, a French bakery located in Grand Island, some fresh arugula, tomatoes and blueberries, and a hair care product by Wildflower Beauty by Jessica, and I longed to buy some pottery from the Perry Stoneware booth, but decided that needed to wait until another trip.

One of the interesting aspects of our trip was the first time inclusion of our dog Pooh.  I rescued Pooh and her mom Winnie in 2002.  Winnie was about 3 years old and Pooh was around 4 months old.  They were living on the streets near my mom’s home in Tennessee.  Winnie was socialized having obviously been someone’s pet at some time, but Pooh was completely feral.  In spite of her better people skills, Winnie was not a dog to live in a house.  Being within four walls made her anxious and stressful, resulting in excessive panting and pacing, so she and her wild-one daughter spent the next 10 years living in my backyard and sleeping on my back porch.  Winnie became ill in January and left us.  Pooh is still trying to adjust to life without her ever-present mother.  Although Pooh is certainly tame now, she is still easily frightened and becomes nervous in new situations and around unfamiliar people.  Since living alone was not a good idea for the grieving Pooh, we started allowing her in the house with our Pekingese dog and she has slowly adjusted to life with our family and without her mother.  Worried that leaving her alone, without her most trusted people (my man and me) and without her canine companion Chanelito, we risked taking her along on her first ever vacation.  Pooh was nervous and leery of Mount Dora where everything was new and different.  She was overwhelmed and confused by her first sight of a large body of water, Mount Dora.  Walking along the downtown streets, busy with tourists and shoppers, triggered all her fear phobias.  But, slowly she adjusted - a little - with the one exception of her bathroom habits.  At our home, she uses our backyard for her bowel movements and in Mount Dora she was always on a leash or in our cottage, all places that did not seem “right” to her for that bodily function.  For three days we fretted about her lack of a bowel movement, always afraid the call of nature would become too strong when she was in the cottage.  Fortunately, that did not happen and on our last morning there, during my man’s early morning walk with the dogs, she successfully released what had been held inside of too long.  We were all relieved!!

Since mid-December my life has been out-of-synch, out-of-balance, as evident in my consecutive illnesses, back problems and a general feeling of dismay and discord.
Our trip allowed me some downtime to think, to read and to try and figure out what is wrong and why it became so wrong.  I read the book “The Gifts of Imperfection” by Brene Brown who I recently saw on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday.  Her book is fantastic and I highly recommend it.  I really identified with her studies on the problems of perfectionism and I learned much from her about embracing our imperfections.

I came home from my long weekend feeling a little more rested, with slightly less back pain and with a renewed commitment to getting my life back on track.  First, I spoke to my daughter about her work schedule, insisting that I have Monday through Wednesday evenings free of childcare so I can attend my yoga class, work for some of my evening clients, volunteer at Wild Iris Bookstore and attend the monthly Feminist Open Mic Poetry Readings that I enjoy so much.  I promised myself to better organize my home work space and bedroom, so those areas feel less cluttered, confused and confining.  I recommitted myself to writing more often and I began researching some sort of creative class or activity that I can enjoy with my grandchildren.  And, hardest of all, I made an agreement with The Universe to be more positive and more patient about my Manifesting Mount Dora project.

Tomorrow begins my return to the routine of work, household duties and helping to care for my grandchildren.  Tomorrow begins the juggle of hours and the scheduling of all the things that I need to do while trying to make time for the things I want to do.  Tomorrow and the next day and the next are the test to see if my Mount Dora Renewal will take hold and grow sturdy roots.

Here I Go Again

When I started the Manifesting Mount Dora project, I called it an experiment with the Law of Attraction.  As the months passed, I forgot about the "experiment" part.  My focus slipped from the process to the hoped-for result, a sure path to disappointment, sadness and regret.  Why did this happen?  Control.  I wanted to be in control, I felt I was in control and when that proved to be not true, I lost control.  

The Law of Attraction is not a way to control your future, but a method to attract the future you want - a method that some swear by and that some think is hocus-pocus.  I wanted, and still want to, believe in the Law of Attraction, but I must approach it with a control-free attitude and that is difficult for me to do.  More than once, by multiple people, I have been labeled a control freak.  Although I think my control issues are definitely less than is years past, I obviously have not eliminated them entirely.  

I receive a daily email call the Daily Om by Madisyn Taylor and on February 8th, the theme of the email was control - how apropos.  Here is the first paragraph of that email essay:

The answer to control is practicing surrender.

Trying to maintain control in this life is a bit like trying to maintain control on a roller coaster. The ride has its own logic and is going to go its own way, regardless of how tightly you grip the bar. There is a thrill and a power in simply surrendering to the ride and fully feeling the ups and downs of it, letting the curves take you rather than fighting them. When you fight the ride, resisting what’s happening at every turn, your whole being becomes tense and anxiety is your close companion. When you go with the ride, accepting what you cannot control, freedom and joy will inevitably arise. 

I hate roller coasters!  Why? The lack of control, of course. I am the one gripping the bar so hard my knuckles turn white.  I barely breathe.  I am so anxious, I cannot even scream.  At this moment, I feel like I may hyperventilate just thinking about being on a speeding ride where I have not control over the velocity or the destination and no way to make the darn thing stop.  No wonder I was not able to "enjoy the ride" during the last ten months of my Law of Attraction experiment. I fooled myself into thinking my actions were controlling, and thereby creating, my future. 

It is hard to wrap my mind around the idea that you can work toward attracting something without actually being in control of the end result.  Can't say that I completely understand the concept either. That is why my Manifesting Mount Dora project was an experiment.  

As I grade the experience of the last ten months, I surprise myself by giving it an 8.  Overall, the experience was enjoyable.  The challenges were difficult, but I learned and grew from them.  I believe I developed spiritually.  And all of that in spite of not achieving my goal. 

My most recent lesson is just this - Manifesting Mount Dora is an experiment, as is life.  You try something, it works or doesn't work.  More often, it doesn't.  So, you adjust your approach and try again.  There is no failure, just lessons. You don't give up, you just regroup and readjust. So, here I go again.  

The Days Ahead

The holidays have come and gone.  I am relieved in some ways.  The holidays forced a cheerfulness that was not heartfelt for me.  I grew tired of trying to be "on" when I really wanted to be "off".  Hiding was a temptation that I had to resist.

After Christmas Day, my man and I spent three days in Mount Dora.  Usually I am excited with anticipation before one of our trips there, but this one felt more like an obligation.  Even the short drive there seemed long and tiring.  At first, being in our favorite town made me feel mostly sad - sad that we are no closer to living there, sad that life seems to be conspiring against my desire to be there.  But, as always, Mount Dora worked its charm on me and the sadness melted to a gentle pleasure.  I was able to rest between our many walks and a feeling of renewal began to grow.  We reconnected with friends there, shopped a little, ate some fabulous food and met new people.  There is a house not far from where we stay that has fascinated me for some time now.  It is not a particularly pretty house, although it has its charms, and it is not what one would call outstanding in any way, but it "spoke to me" and I don't know why.  When I first noticed the house it appeared to uninhabited although I could see furniture through the glass entry door.  There were no signs indicating anyone had been actively living there in a while and yet the house was kept up.  I wondered if the owners are what we Floridians call "snow birds" - people who live up north in the summer and then come to Florida for the winter.  On one visit to Mount Dora, I saw an older, ratty car in the drive that did not have the appearance of a vehicle that would belong to someone owning the home.  Last year I began seeing a newer and nicer automobile in the drive, but still saw no actual people and nothing had changed in the house's appearance.  As usual, we took our little dog with us on our end-of-the-year trip to Mount Dora, but one morning just the two of us were walking back to our cottage after breakfasting at Cody's on 4th when we encountered an older gentleman walking with a graying beagle.  The beagle greeted us excitedly and while we took turns petting him, we chatted with his owner.  Turns out the beagle was a rescue dog that came to live with the man just two weeks earlier.  We expressed regret that our dog was back at the cottage because we were sure the two canines of similar size would have quickly become friends.  Later that day, my man and I were walking with our dog and walked past "my" house and there at the glass doorway, barking vigorously, was the same beagle we'd met earlier!  Soon his owner appeared, waved to us, leashed his dog and came to greet us.  The meeting of the two dogs did not go as we had thought.  The beagle aggressively declared his ownership of his new home and new companion and our peaceful dog, who I believe is the Dalai Lama of dogs, was terribly hurt emotionally, not physically.  I am sure that had they met on the streets the result would have been much more cordial, but our new canine friend felt the understandable need to protect his territory.  I shared my fascination with his home to the man and he was kind enough and friendly enough to tell me the history of his home, which was built in the latter 1800's, and his own personal story of ownership and even gave me a tour of his abode.  With the exception of the dog confrontation, the unexpected afternoon meeting was a pure joy.

After the chance meeting of the mystery home's owner, I started thinking about how we never really know what unexpected occurrence may change the course of a day.  I went to Mount Dora never expecting to meet the owner of the house of my fascination, much less expecting to be granted a tour of the home.  When strolling back from breakfast that morning we never expected that the man we met walking with the beagle was the owner of the house or that we would encounter them later the same day, giving me the opportunity to tour his home and find out more about it.  Having experienced something so unexpected, I began wondering if my manifestation of Mount Dora might also emerge from some unforeseen meeting or happening.  For a few days I felt a sense of hope.

The hope did not last long.  I returned home to all the responsibilities, problems and long hours of work that eat up the hours of my days during this busy time of year.  Very quickly my pleasant memories of Mount Dora melted like a snowflake in Florida and I again felt tired and sad.  But, in the midst of my resignation little bits of hope keep showing up.  None of them was  profound enough to completely give me back my hopeful enthusiasm, but collectively they are pushing me into a better emotional place.

Two were these quotes that I received in my daily emails from Gratefulness.org:

WORD FOR THE DAY Monday, Dec. 17 Most of us look at our ideals, say how far we are from them, and get depressed. But it is heroic simply to say, "Here are my ideals," state them before the world, and then spend your life trying to live up to them. Keshavan Nair New Dimensions Radio interview

WORD FOR THE DAY Sunday, Jan. 13 Your success and happiness lie in you....Resolve to keep happy, and your joy and you shall form an invincible host against difficulties. Helen Keller

The hours I have spent with my friend who was in the automobile accident have also shown me that we can heal, physically and emotionally, and, I hope, spiritually, if we just give ourselves some time.

I recently came across an animal card reading that Shenna Benarte did for me in the fall.  Much of what I am experiencing now was foretold during that reading.  She warned me of working too hard (not much I can do about that), that many emotional issues would surface and need attention (oh, yeah), that I need to journal more (I have been journaling less), that I would be consumed with worrying and wondering and that my reaction should be to stand back and shore up my strength (I have been more weak than strong), that the months ahead would be filled with running around and going crazy (so true), that the drama I would be experiencing was a mirror to what was happening internally and that I need to slow down and breathe consciously whenever I am feeling overwhelmed (that is exactly when I forget to slow down and breathe), that I need to work spiritually on my emotional issues (have been very disconnected spiritually), that I need to be more open and less literal in my translation of what is happening to and around me, and, the most important part of the reading, was the raven "magic" card that I drew which means I can create whatever I want.  That is the part of need to remember.  I was amazed when I came across my notes of that reading.  It happened not long ago, but I had forgotten about all the warnings and encouragement of the cards. Now I feel more accepting that the rough times I am experiencing are a process.  I don't LIKE the process, but it is inevitable and, I hope, will push me closer to where I want to be.    

So here I am.  Still tired, often overwhelmed, sometimes sad, occasionally defeated, but I am seeing little bits of light in what often seems like a deep darkness.  I am sometimes depressed, but I am not in a depression.  My life is good overall and my days, although often long and irritating, are also filled with smiles, laughter, love, music and sunshine. Just the fact that I am writing this post is progress!  The long month of January is not even half gone and I know that I will continue to feel bombarded until I am able to slow down a little, but the days ahead do not seem as dark as they did yesterday.

Connections

I haven't written in a long time - not here, not anywhere else.  I am still struggling to reconnect with my Manifesting Mount Dora project, but, more than that, life events have interrupted what may have been called "normal".

My man's youngest sibling, a sister, passed away last week after being in a coma for more than a week.  Her  condition and subsequent passing were a shock and his family is still reeling from the loss.

The same day we learned of his sister's condition, one of my dearest friends was hit head-on by a much larger vehicle on the interstate.  Fortunately, she had no life-threatening injuries and no damage to her head, spine, face, neck or internal organs.  However, her body is a jigsaw of breaks, sprains, dislocations and lacerations.  Three operations later, her parts and pieces are reconnected and beginning the healing process, but her recovery will be long and challenging.

These two sad events reminded me how we are all interconnected.  I was not in a coma, I did not die, I was not in an auto accident, I did not go through surgery, but still I was affected by each of these events.  I did not physically feel the pain, but I endured it on an emotional and mental level and I feel the exhaustion of knowing that someone you love is hurting and of the smothering effect of empathy and concern.

Here, the night before Christmas, I feel very disconnected from the holiday hoopla.  I am going through the motions for my grandchildren and my daughter, not feeling the anticipation that normally grows at this time of December.  This year has been so unexpected - sometimes exciting, sad, inspiring and disappointing; often challenging, confusing and discouraging.  Many times I was so hopeful and encouraged and other times I cried for understanding and hope.  Right now, as this year winds to a close, I am taking stock of what I am thinking and feeling.  Weariness is the word that first comes to mind.  I am very tired and no hours of sleep ease the exhaustion.  I have a strong sense of resignation, as though nothing I can do will make a difference.  Intellectually, I don't know if that is true, but that is how I FEEL.  January starts my busiest work time of the year and no matter how deep I delve internally, I cannot find a well of energy big enough to tackle the tasks that come my way at the start of every year.

There is much for which I am grateful. I and my immediate family are relatively healthy.  We have a comfortable home, food on the table and the comforts of modern life.  I have work and a steady income.  My grandchildren fill my life with laughter and love.  My daughter fills me with pride.  My man still makes me laugh and warms our home with song and music.  I know I am blessed.  And, yet I am also disappointed in a deep way I cannot explain in words and I feel guilty and ashamed of this disappointment.

I volunteer at and am on the board of directors for a feminist bookstore.  That store, the two women who own it, the staff, and the patrons feed my soul.  For more than a month, due to family and work responsibilities and all these unexpected events, I have not been able to work at the store or even spend time there.  The store closed last Saturday, temporarily, in preparation of reopening in a different location.  I was excited about the move and all the wonderful changes that come along with it, but I have missed out on the last few weeks at the current location. Friday evening I carved out a couple of hours to go to the bookstore and there my soul was fed.  I shopped the great moving sales, then sunk into a chair and talked to Erica, one of the store owners, who made me feel missed and appreciated.  We talked about everything and about nothing.  It was wonderful.  I relaxed in a way I haven't in several weeks.  I felt a sense of reconnecting with something that had been hiding in a small, dark corner and that is when I wanted to write again.

When I started this blog in March, I thought that by the end of the year I would be closer to manifesting Mount Dora - even if just a little closer - and on this 24th day of December I feel further away that I did in March.  I see clearly than I am still needed here.  My daughter and grandchildren are entrenched in life in our town and I don't see them being ready for a move any time soon.  I also know that I am needed for my injured friend and her partner as the long healing and rehabilitation period starts.  I want to be of assistance in any way I can to make this difficult journey a little easier for them.  And, I can understand that those and other reasons may be why I am not making progress toward the new life I want to create and I am okay with the fact that I am needed right here, right now.  My question is, why almost one year ago, was I given what seemed to be a very clear vision of a life in Mount Dora?  Why was that passion born in me if there is no hope of it becoming reality any time in the near future?  Was I given one more unattainable desire just so I could experience more disappointment?

As I see my friend's life suddenly and unexpectedly changed forever due to an accident she could not avoid, I am even more aware of the fragility of life and that we have no promise of a tomorrow or of a tomorrow that even slightly resembles today.  How many more days do I have to live or how many days do I have to live in a condition even similar to the one I enjoy now?  The life I envisioned in Mount Dora was a life with me as I am now.  Perhaps I could get there 10, 15 or 20 years from now, but that would not be the life that I am visualizing now because I will certainly not be the person I am now.  My vision of life in Mount Dora most definitely includes the man that shares my life now and, with his age being several years in advance of mine, I know that the delay of my manifestation means that he could very well not be present to share it with me or may not be in good enough health to truly enjoy the attainment of a dream we have both nurtured.

As usual, or maybe even more than usual, I have no answers.  I am just a woman writing a blog about - about what?  I am not even sure how to answer that.  Is it still about Manifesting Mount Dora?  Was it ever Manifesting Mount Dora?  Was it about what I want or about who I am or about who I want to be?  I cannot even think that abstractly right now.  I am ending 2012 more confused that I started and I have no idea what to expect or, if I dare, hope for in 2013.

Appreciation

I am overwhelmed by all the wonderful words of encouragement that I received after my last two rather "down" posts.  I appreciate everyone who commented and who contacted me.

I know my last two posts were depressing and reeked of defeat and surrender, but I don't apologize for what I wrote because it was true to how I felt and still feel.  I do, however, apologize if my words made anyone else feel defeated or hopeless - that was never my intent.  I am just trying to write as honestly as I can about my experiences during this Manifesting Mount Dora project.  My experiences - good or bad - are MY experiences, not yours.  My experiences may be stemming from who-knows-what from years ago or even karma from a past life, if that is possible.  Perhaps, I am just not very good at manifesting or I am too old or too tired to be engaged so deeply in manifesting.  Maybe what I wanted to manifest was not right for me, maybe the timing was wrong.  I  hope any of you who are also in the midst of a manifesting project find great success and I beg you not to be discouraged by my experiences.  In fact, I hope you will prove that you can manifest anything you want.  How happy I would be to know that someone who read this blog was inspired to start their own manifesting project and reached great success with it.

My feelings have not changed much since my last post, although I have a stronger sense of acceptance.  I still feel this project is either dead or, at least, dormant, which does not necessarily mean I will stop writing this blog, although I may write less often.  Even a death is a process, so I am not quite through with this project yet.  I also do not dismiss the chance of a rebirth - like a phoenix from the ashes.  Right now, I don't know, and I really can't even think about, how it could possibly come back to life.  Someone commented that she believed I was reaching my "tipping point" and that I would still experience success.  Thank you, Christine, for that encouragement and I hope your statement proves to be true.

In spite of the sadness I am left with now, I know, without a doubt, that I am blessed.  I have a wonderful family, a decent business that may not be my passion but certainly is interesting and rewarding in its own way, many true friends, fairly good health, a comfortable home in a nice neighborhood, many books to read, the wonderful town of Mount Dora to visit and a host of other blessings.  I may be down, but I am not ungrateful.  I still love and appreciate the laughter of my grandchildren and their unfettered hugs and kisses; conversations with my daughter, usually late at night, and her radiant smile; the warm touch of my man and the laughter he brings into my life; my friends who support and love me no matter what; the wagging tales of my dogs and the loud greetings from my cat; the work that pays the bills and gives me satisfaction; long walks; trips to New Jersey, New York City and Mount Dora; books and more books to read; movies that make me feel warm and happy; and so much more.  I did not start the Manifesting Mount Dora project because I was unhappy or dissatisfied - I started it because I wanted something a little more and as an experiment to see if I could manifest something big without "making" it happen.

Unfortunately, as we grow older there are fewer years, and especially good years, left for the realization of a dream.  During the past eight years of my "new life", I've had other dreams, ones that I was not so focused on, but ones that did fill my imagination for prolonged periods of time, and those did not come to realization either. I deeply feel the passing of time now and I know that eight years is a small portion of 58 years, but they are a huge portion of this later stage of my life.  I also know my energy is not what it was even eight years ago and perhaps I would no longer even be able to physically participate in the dreams I once had.  Fifty-eight is not old and I don't feel like I am ready for a nursing home, but I do feel different than I did even a year ago.  That is hard for me to admit, but it is true.

My man told me I am needed by many.  That has been true all my life.  I've always been "taking care" of others - human and animal - personal and professional.  The new life I imagined in Mount Dora interested me, in part, because I hoped to concentrate a little more on what I want to do, not on what needs to be done.  But, I guess what I want to do is not what I am supposed to be doing.  Fortunately, what I am doing, has rewards.

I don't have answers.  I am just here, living one day at a time, and trying very hard to not think about what I have spent so much time thinking about during the last eight months.

Honesty and Sadness

When I started this blog, I promised myself I would be honest about what was happening in my life and how I was feeling - the good and the bad.  It hasn't been easy.  Being so open in a public forum is often difficult.  And, today, it is especially challenging.

I am really down.  I feel like manifesting Mount Dora or anything else is a joke, a waste of time, a pipe dream.  Saying that is so hard for me, but that is exactly how I feel.  I feel old and tired and there is just no energy left in me to do any more than the day-to-day activities that are necessary.

When I was in Mount Dora last weekend, I felt disconnected from life there.  Usually, as I enter Mount Dora, I feel as though I am arriving home, but not last week.  No longer could I see myself living there or doing anything other than what I do week-in-and-week-out in my present life, in my present location.

Over the last week I have thought about other big dreams I've had that never came to fruition.  Some I had before I knew about the Law of Attraction, but I know I was using many of the same manifesting processes as just part of the normal activities of hoping and dreaming.  Later, I consciously applied the Law of Attraction to other dreams, although not to the extent I am now.  As I look back on those dreams - and I am talking about big ones - none of them came true.  As I have often said before, maybe those dreams were not the best for me and maybe I am better off that they were not manifested, but, as often as I have believed that, now I am not sure.  And, if that is true, who is to say that my dream of manifesting Mount Dora is not the same and that the result will not be the same?  How long do I keep trying before I give up?  How much more energy to I waste on something that may never come to pass?

I have also been struggling with memories of a former friend who died of cancer last month.  When I first met her she was studying to be a Law of Attraction facilitator under the tutelage of Jack Canfield and others.  She attended seminars and workshops and eventually received her certification.  She then had seminars and workshops of her own - some that I attended.  She also offered private sessions.  She joined networking groups around town to promote her business, but still she struggled and was eventually forced to give up the office she was renting.  Almost every day I drive past a building that she dreamed of owning as her personal home and office.  It is a lovely, older stone house that is zoned for both commercial and residential use.  She used all of her Law of Attraction knowledge to manifest that place, but it never happened.  I lost contact with her during the past two years, so I don't know all the details of her most recent activities, but I do know she died of cancer and I am sure that is not something she was trying to manifest.

I am disheartened to think of her and how her life ended and what I see as dreams she never manifested even though she knew more about manifesting than I do.  Yes, I know there are probably many other factors  of which I am not aware, but still I feel so much sadness when I think of how her life did not evolve the way she dreamed of and worked for.  She was one year older than me and she expected to live many more years and to manifest many more dreams.  I am two years shy of 60 and I feel my time is running out to fulfill my dreams and still have time to enjoy them.  Every day seems to bring another ache or pain, more tiredness, more disinterest in what used to hold my attention.      

Perhaps this disheartening feeling will pass; maybe I will get back on the manifesting path.  A friend in whom I recently confided suggested I let my Manifesting Mount Dora project "simmer" for awhile.  I guess that means to disengage myself and that seems to be happening anyway.  My man and I will be going to Mount Dora later this month and as much as I want to be excited about the trip, I'm not.  I look forward to the rest and to something different from my normal routine, but nothing more.

This is as brutally honest as I can be.  Hard to think about and hard to write, but true, nonetheless.  

Life in Reverse

I am behind in reading my O (Oprah) magazines.  I like them very much, but when a new issue arrives, I tend to read the “Contributors” page and one or two of the articles that really catch my attention and then the magazine gets hidden under other magazines, books or children’s toys and I forget about it.  Eventually my man adds the magazine to a stack in a basket where it sits for months.  Last week I gathered all those back issues with a pledge to read them ALL before the end of the year.  Today, I completed the February 2012 issue, in which there was an article named “You. . .In Six Words”.  This was the introduction:

“In November 2006, writer and editor Larry Smith issued a challenge to fans of his Web publication, SMITH Magazine. . .Smith asked his readers to describe their lives in six words.”

I thought, “That’s impossible!”  But, the article contained many examples that proved what I initially thought was impossible was, indeed, possible.   Here are some of the submissions in the article:

“Surfing life’s ripples, wishing for waves.” -------- Karen Barbier
“Might as well eat that cookie.” -------- Paula Deen
“I am more than a twin.” ------- Diane Campbell

I was inspired, but I am wordy.  How can I describe my life - 58 years of life - in six words, just six words?  Maybe 600, but six - I had my doubts, but I took the challenge.  

I started with individual words that I associate with myself until I identified an idea that captured my life as I view and define it right now.  In my head, the idea needed many more words than six, so I had to cut, trim and rearrange until I was left with a half dozen words.  Once I had the idea, the chopping block part was much easier than I expected and this was my final result:

Learning from living life in reverse.  

Recently, I considered how I am now, at the age of 58, undergoing so many experiences that most women have in their 20's or 30's, and when I was younger, I had experiences most don’t have until their later years.  I do, indeed, feel as though I am living life in reverse.

When I was a child and teenager, everyone thought I was at least 3 to 10 years older;  as an adult, people figure I am 10 to 15 years younger than my current age.  Living life in reverse.

My childhood home was in an rural area with only one other family with children within a mile.  All my other neighbors were adults 40 to 70 years old, and they were my companions.  On weekends, I rode my bike from house to house, sitting and talking with my older neighbors, playing board games with them, drinking lemonade, iced tea or hot chocolate, helping with their gardening and cooking.  At the age of 17, when friends my age were babysitting, I was working as a nurse’s assistant in a nursing home, surrounded by the elderly.  I felt more at ease with my patients than I did with most of my high school classmates.  During my child-bearing years, because my husband and I did not have children, we accepted the responsibility of looking after elderly parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles in our families.  When others our ages were changing diapers and planning play dates, we were picking up high blood pressure meds at pharmacies, sitting in hospital waiting rooms and taking garbage cans to the curb for those who could no longer do it.  It is just now that I am seeing people my age having those same experiences of elder-care.  Living life in reverse.

My parents were just shy of 40 when I was born and my mother died before reaching 40.  I experienced the death of a parent before I had a memory of that parent, but most people are in their 40's or 50's or even 60's before being forced to cope with the death of a mother or father. Living life in reverse.

In my late teens I experienced my first debilitating back injury.  During my 20's and most of my 30's, my activities were hampered by back pain.  At the age of 29, I sometimes walked with a cane to stabilize my spine.  At 58, my back feels stronger and I experience much less pain than I did 30 years ago.  Living life in reverse.

Most people my current age are resting after raising their children.  I did not have children and I adopted my daughter as a teenager, so I skipped the whole child-rearing experience, until now.  My daughter and her two small children have been living with me for more than two years and I am now having the experience of raising, well, helping to raise, small children.  I've changed more diapers in the last two years than I have in all my previous years combined.  I just had my premier tooth fairy experience when my grandson lost his first tooth this month.  For the first time, I am dropping off children at school in the morning and picking them up at after-school in the evening, telling bedtime stories, going to Christmas plays and planning birthday parties - all activities that most people experience before the age of 45.  Yes, I am a grandmother, but a grandmother learning to be a mother.  Living life in reverse.

While most couples in their early 50's begin making plans for their golden years of retirement, I was burying my husband (Yes, we were separated, but still married, when he passed) and figuring out how to make ends meet on one income.  Living life in reverse.

I owned my first home at the age of 21, and now, since the age of 50, I've been living in a rental house while most in my age group have paid off their mortgages.  Most people/couples search for their dream home during their 20's and 30's and it is now, at 58, that I have a goal of finding and acquiring my dream home - in Mount Dora, of course!  Living life in reverse.

General thinking says creativity is a product of the young, and most people I know experienced their strongest years of creativity before the age of 50, while I believe I am now entering the most creative phase of my life.  Living life in reverse.

With all of that said, my statement was actually “Learning from living life in reverse”.  What am I learning and why do my lessons come either earlier or later than those of others? That is the part I am still trying to figure out.  Although I did not realize it at the start of my Manifesting Mount Dora project, I now think one of the lessons of this journey is to discover why so many of my life experiences have occurred at non-traditional ages.

One lesson I can already identify is that age does not have to limit or define life.  Because of my association with older people in my younger years, I understand, respect and appreciate the age group I am entering.  Unlike many my age who feel their lives are almost ending, I don’t feel being over 50 has to limit who I am.  In fact, I believe I and my life are just getting better with each year that passes.  I may have slow down a little physically and tire a little more easily, but I meet these challenges and experiences that usually come at a younger age with all the energy I can muster and with a maturity and, I hope, wisdom that I did not possess years ago.  I appreciate the moments of surprise, tenderness, exhilaration and comfort in ways I could not in years pass.  The losses and disappointments and roadblocks in life are not as devastating as they once were and although I may be moving a little slower at this age, I pick myself up quicker than I did in my earlier years.

Living life in reverse does have its advantages and lessons.  I may be living a backwards life, but I am always moving forward.