The Real Penn State Culture

I was writing to you all over the weekend and it turned into a ridiculously long post presenting a plethora of facts and information pertinent to many of the "reasonable conclusions" Freeh came to in his report on Penn State. Facts he chose not to include, for whatever reason. I was no where near done. I have decided not to finish it or use it because over the past two days I have realized a few things.

1. The majority of non Penn Staters and even some within the community formed their opinion as to what happened at Penn State, why and how and who was guilty of what back in November when the media became judge, jury and executioner and passed their verdict on to the general public with little to no evidence and obviously without any due process, considering only one of the two trials in this matter have been held, one just last month.

2. Given this realization, the Freeh report could have 100% negated the media's preemptive verdict and no one would have believed it anyway.

They would have cried that Freeh isn't exactly a stand up guy, he's been accused of corruption and cover ups as the director of the FBI, THE FBI! So, why not cover this up, for the whoping reward of $6.5 million Penn State paid him? Which would have been inaccurate because it was the Board of Trustees that hired him to many disapproving Penn Staters who would have chosen someone else, primarily due to his relationship with Governor Corbett and his involvement in all of this

These people who read and accepted the guilty verdict in November may have referenced how another independent investigative report Freeh's law firm wrote resulted in the accused being acquitted in a court of law, after destroying his reputation unfairly and unjustly, in part do to the lack of evidence from the report, thus insinuating that he isn't that great at compiling accurate, complete and unbiased evidence in his investigations.

They would have questioned holes the size of geysers, inconsistencies and contradictions he made between his evidence presented and his numerous "reasonable conclusions". They would have questioned the countless missing and relevant facts not in the report that are simple enough for a layman like myself to dig up. They would have read the report, in it's entirety.

But that's not what happened.

He came through for all those who said, See.... I told you a man known for having higher standards of moral conduct than most couldn't possibly be good. I KNEW IT. Freeh came through.

3. I realized that no matter how much of the missing evidence I presented, nearly everyone's views were solidified a long time ago. So, it seems futile on my part to attempt to educate those unwilling to learn. I had a good 25 links to include as "evidence" in my abandoned post, links I also chose to leave out here, because I assume anyone still reading this who is 100% sure of who was involved in covering up the horrific crimes of Jerry Sandusky, won't bother to read the links anyway.

4. I realized that the media truly is the most powerful entity on earth, they have the power to bring down statues, to punish the innocent, to create hate, to report the only truths they choose without penalty, to censor reputable journalists they typically publish because they do not agree with what is driving headlines and massive amounts of revenue. I don't wield such power... nor would I ever desire to play God.

5. I realized that everyone bitching about what is happening to us won't change anything. It won't help the victims or help us to move forward and believe me, I've done my fair share of bitching! I've been beating my head against the proverbial brick wall of closed-mindedness to the point that I can't sleep as my head is constantly yelling at someone for their ignorance! It's exhausting and time consuming and it's getting me no where. But WE can move forward.

Though don't mistake my desire to move forward as the same thing as our President laying down and accepting unreasonable sanctions that will only punish the innocent as they are not one in the same.

I am angry.

I am so angry I'm past my boiling point.

I'm angry that a sick pedophile fooled us all and hurt children in a place we all once considered the epitome of feeling safe, happy and at home. As a former therapist who worked with abused children for years and as a mother, my heart aches for his victims. They too felt this about Happy Valley, their home. Your home is supposed to be your safe place. They were huge Penn State fans, he used that against them. He used us.

I think Sandusky knew exactly what he was asking for when he negotiated his retirement package. He knew exactly what he was going to do with the privileges he was granted by the administrators (not Paterno, who Freeh's report indicates his opposition to some of the things in the retirement package including not wanting Second Mile kids using the football facilities because they were built for the football program) The retirement package granting his access to the facilities and the right to bring guests was accepted and signed despite Paterno's vocal disapproval. I know shocker, since he was God with unlimited power and all.

I am angry beyond what words can even begin to describe at how the media has handled the coverage. They have done a disservice to the public for not reporting all the facts available, they have done a disservice to the victims for focusing on all the wrong things and profiting from it, at their expense. How much have they given to prevention and awareness while they milk the story for all they can get? They have created a world of hate towards EVERYTHING Penn State, not just those involved, whoever they turn out to be. They have created a mob like mentality which is preventing the victims from moving forward, the community from healing; from moving forward. And every last one of them should be ashamed of their lack of journalistic integrity. Clearly none of them went to Penn State or they would understand what success with honor means.

So, based on all these realizations I set aside my own Freeh report, aka, the Hoosier report and I decided to work, like the rest of Penn Staters who have made tremendous strides over the past 8 grueling months, to move forward.

I keep hearing the truth always prevails but most of the time when I hear this I think... I'm not so sure it will in this case. Like Casey Anthony, despite a not guilty verdict in the court of law, the "truth" had already been told. It doesn't matter if only half of it's been told in our case. It doesn't matter that many parts of that half of the truth have been twisted into some crazy out of control telephone game that much of the general public believes outright lies at this point.

It doesn't matter.

The best quote I heard yesterday as I seethed at the latest round of attacks by another organization that has decided they need to one up everyone else in their assertion of God like power was this...

Hate can not fuel a person as long as love

I breathed a sigh of relief because he was right. WE know that football was not and is not the end all say all at Penn State. Maybe it is or was for a handful of administrators but WE ARE over a 1/2 million living alumni and their families, nearly 100,000 students, thousands of faculty, and fans, yes, we still have fans. So even if a court of law proves that two men did in fact create a "culture of reverence with a total disregard for children's safety and welfare" in the name of "protecting a lucrative football program" and fear of "bad publicity".... We Are SO very much more than those two men. Yes, TWO, because contrary to popular views, PA state prosecutors have only found sufficient evidence to maintain charges against the two original individuals charged for perjury, despite having the evidence presented in the Freeh report for many months now. And I will not apologize for not jumping on the bandwagon if the prosecution doesn't believe a crime was committed by anyone else, dead or alive, at this time. I will wait to condemn the guilty until they are proven guilty in a court of law. That doesn't mean I don't have my own ideas of who was involved and to what degree based on ALL I have read.

But here's how I plan to move forward because.....

F U Sports Illustrated, We STILL ARE

WE ARE... not a cult and WE never "worshiped" our football coach. In fact, I, like many over the past 10-15 years have thought it was past his time and he needed to retire. So, we weren't very good cult members or worshipers I guess, but we did respect him. Enough so that most of us thought, eh whatever, let him coach as long as he wants. Mostly though, WE respected the ideals he taught, his faith and dedication to all of us and our educations and regardless of what some believe the proof is in the pudding. He taught us success with honor, of academics before football, of making an impact.

Whether or not Paterno lived up to those values his entire life except in one crucial situation is irrelevant to what WE learned, what WE at Penn State represent. Our former coach was just a part of Penn State. WE ALL ARE PENN STATE. We always have been. If we find beyond reasonable doubt that he didn't live up to what we learned from him, it doesn't erase those values in us. Just like the NCAA can't erase those wins from the athletes who achieved them. It's in us, it's in them. A handful of people allegedly straying from these values does not define us.

We Are what we have done since learning of the heinous crimes committed at our beloved school by a man who was nearly as respected in the community as Paterno was; by a wolf hiding in a sheep's coat behind a highly regarded local charity he created to help troubled boys reach their full potential. The irony. WE have done some amazing things in a mere 8 months. Amazing things. It makes me so proud to be a Penn Stater. Imagine what we will do over the long haul?! It gives me chills to think!

I believe that everything, even the most horrific things happen for a reason. I believe that the horrific accident my husband and his brother were in as teenagers ultimately resulted in my husband and I meeting... at Penn State... which obviously resulted in our beautiful children. GOOD can come out of anything, if you believe, if you create the good, if you move forward, if you LOVE what you believe in more than those who hate it.

We will show the world who we really are as we continue to pursue our quest to be the leaders in prevention and awareness of child abuse. The amount of money donated already is a beautiful thing, over a 1/2 million in the first month alone! The fundraisers that have taken place and continue to, the programs that have been established... it's who WE ARE. Who we've always been and always will be.

We have been dedicated to helping children heal and find hope and reach their goals for decades. The children supported by the Four Diamond Fund know this. The children supported by the Kidney Cancer Foundation know this. The children who participate in the PA Special Olympics know this. To name a few.

The media may make light of our achievements, give them little attention, but WE were never about prestige but rather doing the good and right thing because that's what you do. That's what success with honor is. Sure, we brag about all our accomplishment, who doesn't? WE ARE proud, and we should be. We were ranked number 14 of all US public Universities, always ranked at or near the top for graduating student athletes including number ONE for our football players this past year. Kudos boys! WE are ranked 67 in top Universities in the world... the WORLD! Our academic achievements are too numerable to recount on here and besides the point. We know what we have done and what we are capable of.

The point is that WE ARE and always have been more than football. Many students have never gone to a game and could care less about football, I know, it's shocking to me too. Being from Pittsburgh, I knew the names Lynn Swan and Franco Harris and Chuck Knoll and all about the immaculate reception before I knew who the President was! Football is in my blood, I even have my own all girl fantasy football league, yet it wasn't why I went to Penn State. I went to Penn State in part because it was a huge academic achievement to be accepted to main campus as a freshman, I was proud of that, I am proud of that. I didn't go there because of Joe Paterno. My husband could have went Ivy League but chose our excellent Chemical Engineering program as to not bankrupt his parents and stay closer to home, not because of Joe Paterno or football, despite being a huge sports nut himself.

A majority of us remained silent for some time after the Freeh report was released, silent to the public anyway. It was an unspoken silence that we all just knew was best. But after yesterday I noticed social media blew up and I heard Penn Staters come together in a deafening roar.

We weren't asleep, far from it, but attempting to process the shock and how the media was handling it all, again. We were drifting away from one another too. Some still believing that Paterno is still completely innocent, some still waiting to pass judgement until all the facts are available, realizing this may never happen, some still feeling he was not who we thought he was and others everywhere in between. We were not united. We were being bombarded daily by an even more venomous round of hate towards us for even being associated with Penn State. Most of us didn't know what to say or do.

I think we showed who We Are yesterday by not necessarily condemning the NCAA sanctions per se, (though we did that too) but by condemning the audacity they have to think they can just erase everything our football players worked their asses off for. Paterno and Sandusky didn't fight through sweat, blood and tears to win those games, our players did. To hurt innocent young people who had nothing to do with any of this, telling them what they endured last year, their wins they fought for don't exist... how is that justice for the victims? That's what we all roared. To hurt other Penn State athletic teams because of these sanctions, to potentially hurt the State College economy that depends on football... how is that justice for the victims who are a part of our community?

We demanded to know why weren't the victims consulted... after all this is about THEM, not Emmert and his power hungry self. If it was ever about the victims to anyone else but us, he would have sanctioned ALL money made, except what's needed to support our other athletic teams not alleged to be involved in any way, to be donated to the victims for 4 years. We roared over how he could do all of this without due process, without an investigation. We learned our administration let us down again through secret negotiations that accepted these egregious sanctions without said due process. Or consulting the board.

It doesn't matter... now.

All we can do it move forward. We can show up for those games, for our athletes who remain proud Penn Staters. We can donate, we can ensure local businesses don't fail by purchasing our gear from their stores, but by buying non licensed gear of course, because I'll be damned if the NCAA gets a penny out of me. WE can keep roaring loud and proud because WE will not let a few people tear us down, WE will not let the media tear us down, WE will not let hate tear down our love for Penn State.

Despite all the anger, the RAGE, the unanswered questions, the frustrations and sorrows, WE still fight... to do the right thing. We will fight for the truth. We will fight for all victims of abuse hoping that our efforts will result in this NEVER happening again. We will fight to make sure the world knows how to spot these wolves, these child predators, before it's too late and the damage is done. We will fight to prove what we have known all along... academics has always come before football and always will. Success with honor has not ceased to exist on or off the field even for those of us who no longer believe in the man who taught us it. We will make a positive impact on the lives of abuse victims.

We will help.

We will heal.

We will always be Penn State and haters will always hate. But hate CAN NOT be fueled longer than love.

I cry for the evil that occurred to those boys and that they had to endure such suffering at a place I thought they would be safe, a place they thought they would be safe. I will forever be aware that even the safest of places on earth can be vulnerable to evil. But I will not allow anyone to convince me that I should hate what WE ARE.

I love my alma mater and always will. I'm proud to be a Penn Stater and proud of all the good we have done for the world and all the good we have left to do. For the Glory....


                                  




PS- Yes, I am aware of my sarcasm

PPS- Haters comments will be deleted and please take your venom to the website provided and donate to victims of abuse. Thank you

Mealtime Mania

Meal time in our house is a combination of the kids all out attempts to drive mommy (and daddy) to a state of homicidal rage along with attempting to remember which rotation we are on between, Amy's organic Mac and Cheese, grilled cheese, dinosaur chicken nuggets, mom's homemade hummus, peanut butter and apple butter sandwiches and ummm, yeah, that's about it. For Rylie anyway. And since I refuse to make separate meals for lunch, Caleb often gets stuck with his sister's self imposed limited menu, though he'll eat most anything.

Over the past month or so it's gotten to the point that I start to get anxiety as I see the clock inching it's way towards lunch and dinner times. I try to prolong the inevitable need to feed my kids and eventually take a breath and say, maybe this meal they will sit nicely and "eat all before them with smiles and good will", you know, like how the dinosaurs eat, a reminder that sadly never results in the desired impact I intend.

I have tried every trick under the sun to teach proper table manners, seriously, ev-er-y-thing! I spend countless waking hours trying to outwit my 3 and 17 month old at the table and even non-awake hours as my dreams swirl into nightmares of my kids bathing in hummus or cheese sauce. Ironic since this isn't a mere nightmare but our mealtime reality.

Exibit 1:

Text from hubby I get upon leaving yoga a couple nights ago.

Husband: What is wrong with our kids? They are washing their hands in the mac and cheese.

Me: (all innocent) I don't know what's wrong with them. Rylie did eat lunch late today, maybe she's not hungry.

Secretly I had to wait until my laughter subsided before I took to the road because the reality is, and what I wanted to say to his was, umm, duh? That's what they do of course! Every meal, every damn time. It was no coincidence I planned for a mac and cheese night on daddy duty! I'm evil, I know. But if he's going to keep joking that I sit around all day eating bon bons well, he's going to get mac and cheese night.

Ok, so here's the real dilemma. Rylie has some major digestive issues. The number of traditional and homeopathic medicines in play right now is enough to make a nurse with 5 patients head spin. Maybe exaggerating a bit but seriously, it's a lot. I feel like I need one of those old people medicine alarm thingy's to keep it all straight some days. So this sort of puts a damper on some of my behavior therapist bag of tricks I feel comfortable putting into play. And she's keen enough to catch on to that. The minute I take food away for things like opening her peanut butter sandwich and wiping it, peanut butter side down of course, all over the table she is quick to say "all done", even if she hasn't eaten anything. The kid needs to eat, even if I only get a few bites out of her and the rest is used as furniture polish.

We use lots of bribery in our house. And the, if this/then that technique. And it's not necessarily traditional bribery for treats either, though such bribes are certainly a daily feature. But for instance, today she wanted more water in a big girl cup. I informed her she could have it if she ate her bagel. She never got more water. Bribes are only successful about half the time. No matter how much she wants what's on the other side.

I started to realize lately that the two monsters feed off one another, I think it's actually the sweet boy who is the instigator lately. Go figure, my little devil corrupted the angel in a record 17 months time! So, when the cup and plate throwing ensued today during lunch I ignored it, another technique I have tried MANY times to no avail, and simply took Rylie to eat at their play table out of brother bear's line of sight. She started to play, though she did eat some. Brother ate but did throw the parts he didn't want, as always. I guess I could take the optimist side and call this a slight improvement and perhaps consistency with having them eat apart would result in more positive results. On the down side, this means I have two rooms to run between, two spaces further apart to clean up and even less likelihood that I get a chance to eat as a result, which is a rare treat as it is. But I'm trying to be optimistic here, most of the food entered their stomachs rather than every other part of their body and the house. Score one for mommy!

Now, some of you may remember my love/hate relationship with parenting magazines and their oh so perfect and seemingly easy tips to try in situations such as these. Tips they nearly always market as no fail parenting tricks. Yes, well, plates with multiple sections each filled with something different to allow your toddler choices, so they can feel like they are in control, which is all they really want, yes, that fail proof idea simply results in more food choices smashed on the face, in the hair, on the floor and chair and table and places I'm sure I haven't even found yet.

Now that Rylie can communicate there's the fail proof, let her decide tip. Ummmhmmm, today I asked her if she wanted peaches or cantaloupe and she actually responded to my question, a remarkable feat in itself and said she wanted peaches. I even gave her the choice of me cutting a peach for her or the jar peaches. She said she wanted the jar ones. No sooner did I finish my thought of, damn, I'm doing good with today's lunch time... today IS THE DAY we make it through a meal without yelling or throwing things (I mean mommy, btw) did I put her at the table and she said, I want cantaloupe. Seriously? WTF?! Like I said, full out assault on mom's sanity.

Brother bear is getting quite good at communicating what he wants to eat too, yet, even if it's something he wants, once he decides that's enough the dog becomes a happy pup. Some may say, perfect solution! Yeah, um not so much. This in fact adds to my mealtime mania predicament as Apollo has a bad stomach and can't eat people food. He pukes, often. Though it's less since I put his psycho ass on Prozac, it's still always something I have to be conscious of, ensuring he's behind a baby gate or not bothering to beg.

A quick run down if you are desperately racking your brain to help me keep my sanity during these three inescapable times each day I have often contemplated how I can escape without starving the kids. No solutions for that one so since mealtime must occur we have tried ignoring, take away the food being thrown, have them immediately pick up what they throw, giving food choices, multiple options on the plate, rewarding with a treat (not necessarily sweets), losing treat as a possibility and even as a last resort smacked their hand if they throw. Caleb stares and does it again the next time he desires and Rylie laughs at us. Every positive and negative behavior reinforcement technique I can think of or have read has been squandered by my two little darlings.

Craig's solution after the mac and cheese hand washing night he endured....

"Maybe we should start over. Caleb is way better than Rylie, if we just start over the next one is bound to be good." Yes, the husband is a riot.

At least we still can laugh at the insanity!

Now, I know meal time is supposed to be messy, at least a bit, I mean my kids are 3 and 17 months, I'm not naive in that regard. It's just, is it really necessary to pretend you're a dog at meal time? (click to view video. It is from fall or winter so not the best example, not really messy actually, but still, she's eating like a dog!)

Or to smash hummus all over your face? I mean sit there and rub it in like you're applying foundation and lipstick.

Exhibit 2:




Or to grab your hair with hands full of food because your done and mad it's taking too long, a whole 3 seconds) to wipe your hands off?

Exhibit 3:




Yes, I get some of it is this awesome sensory thing and they just can't help themselves! I get that kids aren't exactly vessels of patience but rather vessels designed to test ours every hour of every day...and night. I know, I know! But really, does every kid do this? Every single meal? Or are mine the epitome of those vessels created to test one's patience?

I've seen other kids eat very nicely, food in mouth for the most part, while messy and food may fall on the floor, they aren't pretending their food is hand soap or a new hair conditioner or throwing it everywhere like tonight as they played catch with a hunk of banana. I've SEEN it, many times in fact, even from brother and sister bear above, believe it or not.

We've just had a long bout of the mealtime mania that I'm beginning to worry that this is their norm and I will need to pack them bibs in their lunch boxes until they are too old to carry their lunch. Do kids even still take lunch boxes to school? Either way, as I sit and watch the mania unfold daily, I am convinced that this is it, we'll never have a nice area rug in the dining room! And eating naked will be the only solution to ensuring clothes last longer than one meal.

Perhaps my attempt to have sit down family meals each night, something I never really had growing up and always thought was so cool when I visited a friend's for dinner and they all sat around their table as a family to eat, in retrospect wasn't the best mommy idea ever. Though, at the time I was pretty proud of this parenting decision! Now it seems it will forever be my 1/2 hour (or longer if they are really trying extra hard that day to send mommy to some form of state institution) of catching cups, washing the floor, table and kids until my hands are pruney, yelling, ignoring, retreating to the kitchen for some sort of sugar reinforcements and then forgetting that I actually need to eat something of substance too!

Of course if I do grab something/make something for myself they all of a sudden are insatiably hungry and willing to try damn near anything because it's on my plate. Yet, if it's on my plate while we are all at the table Rylie will turn her nose up to it like I'm trying to feed her rat poison! And I think, everyday... hmmm, that must be how my mom stayed so skinny. She always said by the time she finished feeding me her food was cold and not worth eating. I get it, I sooooo get it.

Sorry Mom! Truly.

K, I better go eat something....

Alone, But Not Really

As I pushed through my yoga class tonight and the instructor made comments here and there about using the mantra of "be in the present" I kept thinking, I am soooo not in the present lady. I kept trying but my ramblings just would shut up. The harder I tried the worse it seemed to be. At one point I found myself in an asana (a pose for you non yogi's) much longer than everyone else, and not due to mindful meditation but more of a caught up in the moment of my head chatter. ummmm, em-bar-rass-ing.

My chatter was writing to you all about the ironies of how I often feel so alone but how I am NEVER, ever alone. I can't even go to the bathroom alone! At least not for the past 3 years. I can't even think of a place I can go to truly be alone now, so how is it that I feel so alone so much of the time?

As an only child to a single mom I was in fact often alone growing up and for the most part I don't really remember minding it all that much. I did always wish I had a brother, which makes me excited that Rylie does, but I don't recall feeling alone so to speak. I felt alone during the middle school years and some of my teen years but seriously, who doesn't during those horribly awkward years?

Breath in and out as you fold forward..... crap, be in the present..... Yeah, not happening. Back to my chatter.

As a young adult and just plain adult I have felt alone a great deal at various times, but no more so than I have since becoming a stay at home mom... which by the way was one of my life dreams; to give my kids something I always wanted. And yet, I feel hopelessly alone so very often. Oh the irony. I love to be around people and every single day I am with the two people who I could just look at for eternity and feel joy just because of their mere existence; two people who I love more than anything in the entire world and yet, I feel alone.

The thing is, though I have often wallowed in this oh, no one really understands me, I'm so alone self pity, I have never truly been alone.

I've had a number of close friends throughout the years who have truly got me, some are still good friends, though far away. With the exception of a couple rough years, my mom and I talk every day and for the most part she knows me better than anyone and really understands where I'm coming from. She has known all my hopes, my dreams, my fears and anxieties since I knew what such emotions were, and she gets it. Then, as I've mentioned before, Craig and I were like to peas in a pod back in the day. While we have our issues now, which often result in much of my I'm so alone self pity days, he gets me too. He does. And I him.

Breath in, plank, chaturanga, breath out, downward dog.

Shit. FOCUS, Jaci! Be in the present. ahhhhhh. I swear I'm trying. No I'm not, I need to get to the bottom of this before the mayhem of home ensues once again so chatter away dear head of mine.

So.... WHY do I feel so alone if I am not in fact alone? I think in part it's a woman thing. Sometimes we are just emotional and have feelings that don't make sense to anyone else but us and well, we need our self pity time to reconnect with who we are outside of all the insanity that is going on around us. It's why I used to write and why I started writing again. The alone part is what drove me to write to you all instead of no one in particular because I figured there's other people out there who feel at least some of the same things I do from time to time and knowing this would help them to feel less alone. And me too. I've been told this is the case. I hope it still is.

I was running out of time to get to the bottom of my loneliness feeling so I did a bit of a fast forward through my life. I realized that while I have always loved my experiences with others and meeting new people, from studying abroad to being a waitress in South Beach and even in my career as a counselor and the amazing clients I worked with over the years, I always chose more solitude things for my own self therapy. If I wasn't getting my own actual therapy that is!

As a child I danced, as I mentioned not very well, but dance is an individual "sport" so to speak. I took up karate in college, which I was much better at thankfully. Yet again, an individual thing no matter how many people you are training with. From there I moved on to yoga, which is VERY individual, to the point you can be in the same class with 5 other people and everyone is doing something different based on where you are with your practice. I began to wonder... maybe I'm choosing to be alone.

Breath in, and out... Oh screw it, my breath is all off and I'm just going through the motions at this point.

Do I really want to be alone?

No. I hate alone. I always have. I choose the individual activities because it's what keeps me centered, focused (well, usually!) and in touch with myself. But the rest of the time I would really prefer to have meaningful interactions with other people, all the time actually. And while facebook has provided with an opportunity to stay connected when I have become more shut off from others than ever before, it's just not enough. I mean, I don't even have my Starbucks anymore! And though the coffee is good and the cupcakes are out of this world at my new I'm going to get a coffee because it makes me feel good place, it doesn't exactly make me feel good. In fact, many of the people aren't even friendly and there's often no parking but I crave being around people so much that I go anyway. I know, a bit pathetic! And colossal waste of money.

BUT, I don't think any of this is the issue. Not the real issue anyway. The issue is my faith. Deep down I think I never completely felt alone in life, except for a few times, is because I always had God to talk to. And for some time now I have lost that connection that just a few years ago was as strong as ever. I've forgotten how to pray, not that I ever really figured it out, but at least I used to try. I may have mentioned that I don't like either Temple here so I have avoided really getting involved or going to services. This disconnect is my true source of loneliness and longing. I miss God.

I know God never leaves a person who believes but even though I believe this, it still feels that way a bit. Like my partner in crime is missing, a piece of me, the piece that is always understanding and accepting and helps me find what I'm looking for. Now, I know some of you will say during these difficult times that God hasn't gone away but been carrying me and my burdens until I no longer feel alone and that then, and only then will I realize God was there all along and I was never alone to begin with. I know you'll say that. After all, it was the case every other time I thought I was alone and it was just a few breaths ago that I realized I never was actually then either.

While I think the poem Footprints In the Sand is Christian based it always felt pretty universal for anyone who believed in God and to be honest, I always found it quite beautiful. Plus, I'm not quite sure of a Jewish version that's equivalent so, I'll beat you too it and just tell myself now, God is still here, always has been and always will be. And I'll try my best to believe it too. Though, you can still tell me if you want. Reminders never hurt anyone!




Get comfortable and begin to move into savasana, return to your breath, as your thoughts come, let them go.... Yes, I giggled a bit upon hearing this as I got into the final pose of the evening. And thought, whew, I got to the bottom of my alone dilemma, maybe I can get a quick nap in during the final relaxation! Oh yoga, how I love you. So many ways you can help!

I guess the basic hatha yoga class I got stuck with this week didn't turn out to be a total bust after all, huh? Good thing I like those individual activities to give me an hour "alone" to sort through all my chatter, or I'd still be sitting here feeling all.... alone.

If you've been keeping up on here this has been a bit of a two step forward one step back sort of self battle lately. If you're feeling alone or struggling with your faith and just having woe is me sort of day, let us know. Maybe it'll help!

Night all :)

My Alien Abduction

I've been on one of my obsessive romantic sci fi binges lately. So much so I've barely been on 

facebook, one of my few connections with the outside world, I haven't written which helps me stay sane, have done the bare minimum around home and I even stayed up late all week, thus resulting in less sleep. I think we all know that means this. is. serious!

This time the binge was on aliens. Teenage alien hybrids to be exact. Though vampires (and werewolves) and wizards and make believe creatures from other worlds, and even humans in the future have all been a part of my obsessions in the past. When I get so engrossed and almost feel like I'm unable to focus on anything else but some fantasy world in a book or on screen, my therapist side of me often does some major introspection as I ask myself... WHY?.

My mind not only becomes engulfed with the characters and stories of whichever sci fi tale has caught a hold of me this time but my self talk also goes into overload trying to figure out what's going on in my life at this moment to bring me back to this place. This place of fantasy, this place of magical powers, this place where the kind of love I'm reading about or watching only seems to be real from another's imagination, to imaginary worlds I have wished I lived at times. These worlds are far from perfect, someones life is nearly always in peril, there's war and hate and drama of epic proportions. Basically it's a lot like some of the most scary parts of real life. Yet, somehow these fantasy worlds always seem better in some way, better than real life.

WHY?

I always come back to the same conclusions. I've always dreamed of a world like these places. In some ways but not all. I've always dreamed of the happy ending most of them have. I've always dreamed of love like Cinderella, I've always dreamed and searched for something else than what I have, a magical, unique life, one I can look back on when I'm 80 and smile and think, wow, now that was some ride! I've never really been satisfied with what I have or living in the here and now. I've always wanted.... more. Always. Once I get the things I want, or the things I think I want, my mind moves on to what else I'm missing, what else I need to feel whole.

I think this is why I get so caught up. It gives me an outlet, it lets me live in this dream world I've also created in my head, which probably originated from the world of Disney and all the movies growing up teaching me that such a life could in fact exist. But I can't exactly blame Walt for my obsessive romantic sci fi binges because the truth is, it's me. It's always been me and my own insecurities, questioning myself, my choices, the paths I've chosen. It's my inability to trust myself.

I often tell Craig how difficult it is to love someone who doesn't love themselves. I've preached many times how a person needs to accept who they are and love who they are to find true fulfillment in life; that no one and nothing can give a person what such fulfillment except themselves. I realize that the same goes for trust. If you don't trust yourself you can't possibly trust others, nor can they trust you. Everything in life starts with us.

If I'm not for myself, who am I? Right?

I've always looked for signs, the right path to follow, for my destiny. While I believe we all choose our own destiny I also feel certain life events occur when they do for very important reasons, reasons that are far greater than just us. Sometimes though I wonder if I'm seeing what I want to see in these signs, in these things I perceive as my destiny and make misguided decisions because of that. And if I hold on to some things because I think it's the right path; if I'm afraid to turn in a different direction for fear of going against what I have convinced myself is meant to be.

I'll be 35 this year and just when I start to think I'm figuring it all out I find myself obsessed with one of these fantasy worlds and questioning why I'm so obsessed with it, why I crave it so badly and I dishearteningly realize, I thought I would have a lot of life figured out by now and I still don't have a clue.

It doesn't get easier the older you get. This is a frustrating reality for me. Maybe it does get easier for some though. There are some people out there who have found this unwavering love and acceptance of themselves and while they might not have it all figured out and life can certainly seem out of control at times, the ability to fall back on trusting yourself, loving yourself and accepting yourself for who you are seems to be the key to it all. The key to enabling a person stop searching for more and to live in the now, to live in this world, the world we each create for ourselves, and to enjoy it, to be fulfilled. To allow ourselves to feel fulfilled.

When I find myself in this place I try to think of times I have felt this fulfillment I search for. I always come to the same answer....

Israel and yoga.

I felt complete, fulfilled, for probably the first time in my life when I stepped off that plane in Israel. There was that magical energy there, like these sci fi fantasies that I crave, it engulfed me. Ironic since I realized today that 5 years ago I was in Israel right now. FIVE years already and I can feel that sense of belonging, completeness, like it was yesterday. I can't exactly pick up and move to Israel but I can work a little harder at returning to practicing my religion more. Maybe get to Torah study, start Hebrew classes again, something. My excuses for not, while very valid, remain just that, excuses.


One of my favorite places in Israel. A waterfall I swam in/under.



Rafting the Jordan. 

This is me 100% feeling fulfilled!

Yoga gives me that sense of fulfillment for taking care of myself. It allows me to cleanse my soul of the anger that often consumes me, enables me to clear my mind of the chatter, to get in touch with who I really am behind all the resentment and anger. Last weekend I learned there may not be enough students for the yoga teacher training program to happen and since then I've been off. I've been more obsessed with my aliens, my dream world. I didn't realize that was my trigger until I started to write to you all but the idea of not getting to do this program took the life out of me a bit. I've been holding on to knowing there was a light in the very near future and the thought of that light going out, well... it brings me back to the dark. It reminds me of feeling lost and stuck and unsure of every decision I've made over the past four years since returning from Israel. I need this training. I need that light.

We all need the light of hope. For me, hope is what guides us to that key. The more we are able to find the pieces we are searching for the more we are able to find that self acceptance which enables us to trust ourselves, and ultimately to find that unconditional love for ourselves. I need that hope.

I keep blaming everyone else for how I feel. Well, more so, I keep blaming Craig. While Craig sure plays a role in the anger and resentment, I have to remember that if I can't find my way back to the path of acceptance and trust and love for myself, I sure as heck can't find my way back to trusting him, accepting him for where he's at with working on his own struggles and I sure won't be able to hold on to my love for him.

It all starts with me. It always starts with each of us. It's easy to forget. For me anyway, it's easy to forget. Good thing for aliens and vampires to help bring me back to reality once in awhile!

Hope you've all been feeling fulfilled during my alien abduction :) See you again soon! Promise.