It has occurred to me as I have navigated these last 12 months from birthday to birthday , from peri-menopause to menopause, that I have not been as light-heartedly entertaining as I have been in the past. Perhaps I have dragged you kicking and screaming into the workings of my  anxious mind, a place you’d rather not visit.  My first instinct is to apologize and try to smooth things over. To make a joke, to ask for forgiveness.  But, I’m not going to. You bought the ticket, you take the ride.  Ultimately, I write for me. To help me. To guide me to a place of peace. And it’s quite possible the instincts to make peace, to calm the choppy waters, got me here in the first place. Like my mom before me, when the seas get a little stormy, I  work so hard to convince myself,  and others, but really myself, that everything is ALRIGHT!!  Somewhere in my youth, I decided if I wasn’t good enough, I should keep very still so as not to rile up the airwaves around the popular kids cause you know the minute they look in your direction,  you’ll be doing something hideously embarrassing. And they’ll notice you, alright. And not in a good way. So I  have been sitting, waiting for the point in my life when I will have that epiphany where I wake up and think…”Alright!! Now,I am finally good enough!” I sit and mutter under my breath, occasionally screaming and carrying on and cursing the heavens, and I wait. I look back with regret that I didn’t do this or that, because I was too busy sitting… waiting for someday. When I would be enough. So at 57, my ass hurts, and my left foot is asleep and my thighs are sticking to the plastic slip covers.  I look at my beautiful nieces and wish I could go back and be armed with all of the poise and potential and possibilities they posess. They have their whole lives ahead of them. It would not be untrue to point out that I have my whole life ahead of me. Enough is enough.  For everyone out there who believes that they aren’t enough, you are. More than enough. So, get off the %#^*ing sofa! 

  Holding On, Letting Go

carynjune