Closure.

How much easier would life be if we could close one door and open another? If there were magic keys that could lock up the past or ones to open the future. Ha, life is never that simple.

For the first time in my life, I am suddenly beginning to feel a sense of closure. It started with an e-mail and eventually transpired into a life event that made closing the door a bit easier. It was a validation from my past. I was acknowledged. I had been loved. And that's all I needed to hear. And now, I stand in front of my past with its heavy door inching towards total closure.

Today, I feel at peace with decisions I have made, mistakes and imperfections that I have learned to live with. I know my limitations, but I also realize the capacity I have to begin again.

So, I have decided to open another door that's been closed for the last three years. Though I had been knocking and knocking with no avail. Things are changing.
I know the reasons why I am here. I know the reasons that I have for trying love once again. I deserve it. Love lives within my heart. And I now have the keys in my hand. And a lifetime of love ahead.

You Get Exactly What You Settle For.

Life lives up to your expectations. No more, but often less.

If you expect -- and settle for -- nothing less than a fabulous life that fulfills all your dreams, that's what you'll find a way to have.

But if you ever settle for anything less -- and why you settle doesn't matter -- less is all you get. If your life is unfulfilling and unhappy, or even if it's just okay, or not quite "there", it's only because you allow it to be that way.

It's such a simple concept -- never settle for less than you really want. But you were taught that "you can't have everything you want." "Sometimes you just have to settle for second place." Or
worse: "You don't deserve it."

Well, guess what -- you do deserve it! but you can only claim it when you refuse to settle for anything else.

What have you settled for that is less than you truly desire? And how does that feel? Can you live with that? Do you WANT to live with that? Have you ever refused to settle for less and received EXACTLY what you did want?

You can have that every time, simply by refusing to settle for anything less.


--Excerpted from
Lee Watters
Life Mentor and Author, "3 Days To A Life That Works: How To Reset Your Defaults For Happiness And Success"

The truth.

The truth is...........

That my sobriety is my only consistent source of strength.
I am waiting for someone.
I am scared of the future.
I am scared of the present.
Everything in the world is going for me.
I have difficulty finding peace within myself.

I will....

Remind myself that sobriety is my rock.
Stop looking out the window for the one I love to return.
Look forward to the future.
Love the present.
Continue striving to be the best woman I can be.
Find peace within my heart.

Life: The Five Year Plan.

Last night the man in my life asked where I see myself in five years. Five years? Ouch.

Five years from now, I can hope to be many things. I can hope to be sober, successful and true to my beliefs. I can aspire to be more comfortable in my own skin. I can dream about working portionately less and playing considerably more. I can hope and aspire to a time five years from now, but will it matter when it's today that really counts?

Where will I be? Who will I be? The more important question is that wherever I am, at that point in my life, will I be living to my fullest capacity? Am I bringing the most to my life today, tomorrow AND five years from now?

So, I sat down and thought about a five year plan. I wrote feverishly this morning....goal setting, planning, categorizing my life on one 5x7 piece of journal paper. I wrote down all the scenarios I could see myself in...and all the ones I could not. I made a list of the people I wanted in my life and the people to take off the Christmas list. I thought about money I may make and the money I may spend on various personal amenitites. I may be with my man. I may not. The possibilities seem endless to me at this point, where once they were limited.

And then it hit me. I can plan to my heart's content but life is unpredictable. Perhaps I will finally teach in Ghana. Perhaps I will be strong and woman enough to get all the things that I want on my list. Perhaps I will not even live to see five years from now....Perhaps is not a word I find favorably in my personal dicitionary. To me, "perhaps" is an excuse. "I will" becomes my mantra.

In five years, I will be flying out of the holding pattern I sometimes find myself in. In five years, I will continue the plan that includes living in the present. In five years, I will still not be able to take back the past and predict the future.

So, five years from now, I may be living in a different place or I may have different people in my life, but I will still be the woman I am today.....perhaps with some more gray hair, but very much of the same determination and will to live life.

Stuck in a chess game.

Every so often, I get stuck in one single moment and finding my way is difficult.

Today, life is like a chess game. Black and white squares make up the patterns of emotion. At times, I feel like the King (or Queen to be correct). Invincible. Strong. The last one standing. Other times, I feel like I am the pawn waiting to be overtaken. Jumping through hoops. Waiting for my fate. In one moment, I am reality checked.

And I sit and wonder if there is in fact, some kind of resolution. Do I continue to pursue those aspects in my life that are, in fact, not moving in the direction I want? Do I continue to play the game or do I simply concede and walk away?

A tough decision considering that life's clock is ticking all the while. Every move I ponder leads to another move. Every decision affects the one thereafter. And time is of the essence. Life is not standing still while I decide. Life is moving while I am sitting playing the game.

So, I am tempted to get up and throw the game. Throw my own curve into the mix and simply just walk away instead of agonizing over the next move.

And perhaps, I will walk by and find another game. And I will play by my own rules.....

Quote of the week.

"...and you realize in the midst of your failure,
you were slowly building the life that you wanted anyway."

-Alice Sebold, "The Lovely Bones"

How to be imperfect.

I always thought that perfect was tres desirable. That candles and four star dinners were par for the course. Music, lighting, ambience, all of it for a night of being with friends. I find that I need to package my life. I look for the ideal and strive to make it even more desirable. Noone comes into my life without a theme night or a reason that I could have easily conjured from a hallmark card. And don't even get me started on Hallmark cards.

I have almost been to the point of perfection obsession. I pour over cookbooks. I place magazines strategically in the living room. Wine Spectator? Come on, I am a recovering alcoholic with the latest issue prominently displayed in my library. I spray annoying room spray that secretly drives me crazy. I have Girls Night In with all the trimmings. If I actually used tupperware, I am sure I would host the party myself. Martha Stewart? Rachel Ray? Nothing on me. I can command a perfect evening even when I am about ready to fall over with exhaustion. I rarely even stop to taste what I am cooking. Rarely do I engage in conversation with my guests. Rather, I try to make everyone as comfortable and happy as possible, even if it means sacrificing my own need. I have actually become despondent instead of throwing in my own two cents at a debating dinner party. And if you knew me, I have a voice that could debate for hours.

And for what reason? What is it that makes me go to great lengths of perfection? With some thought and self-psychoanalysis, I find I am looking for some reassurance that I am "normal". I am afraid of what is inside me. Will people accept me if I am not the perfect host? The perfect girlfriend? The perfect woman with an imperfect past? I am unsure of myself as a sober woman. I am hiding among the issues of Vogue, a diary of all of my shortcomings. I count them daily and then quickly proceed to disguise them with fondue. Or room spray. Or a matching set of dishes straight out of Pottery Barn. I can conjure up all the reasons that I am not perfect and squash them with a good house cleaning and serious redecoration. I am learning the ins and outs of my life. The ins and outs of my personality. Limitations. Boundaries. Qualities that make me fabulous. Qualities that make me human. Things that I need to improve and things I do not. And in the process, I am trying to learn that I will be accepted by some and rejected by others.

Would anyone still love me if they knew that I have smelly feet? Or that I can't stand to shower with my expensive soap that comes neatly packaged in a bottle? That I cry at the drop of a hat or I listen to the sappy music? That I seldom do my dishes and I eat in bed with numerous books at my side? Would I still be viewed as a woman with passion and creativity coming out of my ears? Would I spend the rest of my life alone if anyone knew that I sometimes skip running and watch infomercials on TV for hours on end?

Fast foward to epiphany #1241. Last night, I fell asleep on the couch with my man beside me. I didn't wake up when he went to bed. I couldn't move a muscle. I wouldn't be able to scratch his back and make sure he was sleeping soundly. I stayed there, unconscious, happy, fed and full from a long and wonderful day. It didn't matter that we'd had a spat that day. We had already made up. Sleeping on the couch didn't signify anything other than a moment when I decided I was just too damn tired to move. No issues. No alterior motives. It just simply was what it was.

And I woke up this morning, and he was still there...undeniable grateful, I am sure, that he had the bed to himself, but there nonetheless. In my moment of self induced imperfection, he stayed. He didn't leave. He didn't decide that I was strange or weird because I had curled up with the blanket instead of him.

So, this morning, I left a house full of dishes. Those are for him to do. I didn't have time to make coffee or Eggs Benedict. My curly hair, being naturally imperfect, was askew. My shirt,a stain on it that I may not have hidden so well with the trenchcoat. I kissed him goodbye, grabbed some easter chocolate and headed out the door at 7am. All in all, I have simply decided that perfection is not my forte. I am far from it. But learning who I am, imperfections and all, is the package deal I may have been looking for all along.