Joyce M. Stacks's Blog: A Day In The Life of an Aspiring Author ....., page 14

You Complete Me .....

By now I suppose everyone’s heard that movie line made famous in "Jerry Maguire" many times over, but I never imagined hearing it said to me ….. until night before last. I remember in the movie it came toward the end when Tom Cruise’ character set aside his goals and ambitions long enough to make peace with what he needed most.

Thinking about that now, I think all of us who are ambitious and intent upon living out our ‘best life’ somehow automatically derail our chances at happiness along the way. The world moves at such a fast pace these days, it requires an exorbitant amount of time and energy to simply keep up stride. In so doing, most of us are so mentally and physically exhausted somewhere during our work week that we’ve lost the ability to find serenity in simply being. So we surround ourselves with all the necessary accoutrements to impress our neighbors and tell ourselves we’re happy, when all the while true happiness can only be acquired from within.

I think it takes most of us well into our forties before we learn to stay still long enough to listen to our inner voice, and when we do we’re faced with confronting the reality of something’s missing. It’s a scary thought for most of us, and for some like myself it’s reason enough to go into panic mode, because I became acutely aware of the passage of time.

I can still remember my twenties and thirties like they were yesterday, so full of energy and optimism, I was moving so fast I never really gave any thought as to where I was headed, much less whether or not I was happy within my journey, but somewhere in my forties I hit that invisible wall when I realized the façade I carefully crafted and maintained was less for the benefit of my neighbors than for myself, because it covered up the unhappiness gnawing at my gut killing me from the inside out.

I was trapped within a loveless marriage with a husband who chose work on the road rather than being home with his family. I was effectively raising two teenagers by myself who had begun challenging me on a daily basis with one of them sinking into substance abuse in order to try and cope with a father’s abandonment. How could I assign blame? I was drinking far too much myself in order to manage my own issues with loneliness. Despite being a sole parent, I wasn’t setting a very good example, but time passed and I made changes – many changes – and despite stumbling and falling at least a dozen times along the way, I found my inner voice, my peace and harmony through finally pursuing the interests that fed my soul. I learned balance was the only means to having it all, although this doesn’t mean I don’t still get lost in my struggles from time-to-time, but I’m usually very quick to find myself again.

Therefore I’m grateful and blessed beyond measure to find I've been dubbed the person who can restore a certain sense of balance and serenity to another's life. I’ve worked very hard to become who I am, and I know what’s truly important. I have so much love to give, and I can only imagine giving it to the one who claims he loves me too, because he is the only man who completes me.

Completing Life's Circle .....

Following is an excerpt from the conclusion in my book "Going Through The Change". I'm dedicating this to my friend, David, who needs more than anything to know there are those who understand ....

Then fast forwarding almost three years later, I came to look at this wondrous circle more completely than ever before in my life, when due to a sudden and tragic automobile accident, I lost my brother who was only forty-nine years old. My calculated immediate reaction was one of disbelief. After all, our family had just celebrated en mass for the Fourth of July holiday. Everyone was alive and well, enjoying one of those rare days when almost all of us save my son and my brother’s daughter were together. The day was a typical hot and sunny one, but the heat failed to wilt our spirits. The small children enjoyed a special treat of escorted pony rides on my grandson, Hunter’s, newly acquired miniature horse named Peanut. Peanut’s disposition had remained patient despite all the added attention, making it was a day for the storybooks, perfect in every way.

My brother, Jim, however known to his sisters and parents as Buddy, excitedly spoke of his upcoming fly-fishing trip to Colorado, where he would commune with nature by means of backpacking and camping with a close friend and fellow fisherman also named Jim, whose life was taken in the same accident. He along with the other Jim had made this same exodus a number of times before accompanied with yet another of their original tight knit group named, Tom. Over the years, that group grew to include others including a co-worker named Pat, who became a rock for all of us immediately following my brother’s death. These fishermen loved to experience the grandeur of God’s earth, they loved the sport they mastered and they loved spending quality time with one another. They had been en route to Colorado only about an hour from my brother’s home when a semi truck rear-ended a pedestrian truck traveling in front of him causing his eighteen-wheeler to spin out of control, cross the median and broadside the SUV carrying the two Jims who were traveling in the opposite direction. In an instant both were gone.

I was reminded a couple days later by my sister-in-law, Karen, an amazing woman of faith, compassion and understanding whose strength enabled us all to meet a week’s worth of incredible demands, God holds fishermen in high regard as is evidenced by their frequent appearance throughout the Bible. Fish are creatures, who like our consciousness, reside just below the surface of visibility, and their bounty offers life-giving sustenance.

Therefore the opportunity of going fishing has always held a special significance for me in terms of a chance to spend time with those I love, whether my parents, my children or with Mike, who was my boyfriend at that time. It’s also an occasion to free myself of the burdens of a so-called civilized existence found in telephones, bill paying or endless responsibilities around the house. It is the gift of the catch and pride of getting back to basics. It is experiencing poetry in a physical and tangible manner, and it is a reminder to cherish those rare moments when we feel closest to our Creator.

I am grateful my brother was a fisherman, one who so loved the sport he tied his own baits and fashioned his own rods during laboriously long hours out of bamboo shipped from a remote corner of China. Each a work of art, they are signed and dated by the artist himself. They prevailed through the accident as testaments to a man who lived his life fully every single day, never putting anything off during the course of his unique and special journey, and remain as treasures to those who loved him most. In fact, his daughter Anna had her bridal bouquet fashioned around a portion of the broken down rod that had accompanied her father on that final trip home to meet his maker.

During the weeks immediately following his death, while sitting down with Karen pouring through album after album of pictures, with me sharing my memories of our childhood and her sharing memories of Bud’s adult life, I was comforted by a few simple truths …. namely he was such a good man who loved his family, worked hard at his job, took time to enjoy life and touched all who came to know him in countless memorable ways. He was to quote Karen, “So happy.” His was a life to both admire and emulate, and despite all the pain my family and I have had to endure at his loss, we are all better for having had him in our lives for nearly fifty years. As we turned out his ashes in the cool, translucent waters of the White River in northern Arkansas, I was comforted knowing we shall all meet again one day on the shores where creation was born many centuries ago.

Following my initial disbelief, when his loss became all too real, I asked myself on one of my long morning walks, “Why do we do it? Why do we bring children into this world knowing they will one day die, or that they will bury us, their parents, their sisters and brothers? Why would we intentionally place someone we love at such great risk for incredible pain?”

Then it came to me. We do so because being surrounded by the ones we love is what makes life worth living. I was also reminded that by shutting out the pain, we are also shutting out joy and thereby denying ourselves our own birth rite. If we are here on this earth for the purpose of learning and sharing, then it stands to reason we must also be content in our lives so that we may actually experience the blessings God intends.

I was told often within the first few weeks of experiencing our loss, “Time will make it easier,” and I know now this was true. This is not to say his loss will not always be profoundly felt each and every day of our lives, but with a faith based on God’s grand design, which doesn’t allow me to question His wisdom, I continue to search for the Light and the reasons to go on living a productive and meaningful life.

Not long after her father’s death, his daughter Anna found a rosary her father had purchased for her at the National Cathedral in Washington D.C. back in 1991. In the box he had left a note she had discovered only then, which read, “All comes together for the purpose of good.”

At the time, I didn’t know its origin, whether from his own reckoning or a quote he’d read sometime that managed to stay with him throughout the years. I have since discovered – although paraphrased – it is from the Bible, Romans 8:28. Its discovery gave comfort where it was needed most, to his grieving nineteen-year-old daughter, and I was reminded once more of the blessings still to be had in even the darkest of moments.

In Eastern cultures I have read people are taught to approach each new day as if it were their last. Some might think what a grim and negative point-of-view, but I choose to think of it in terms of how differently each of us might spend our time if we could see and feel it drawing to an end. I believe we would be less caught up in the things that are based in ego and material goods and more time in the lasting impressions we leave behind. I believe we would take the time to tell our loved ones how much they actually mean to us knowing there might not be a tomorrow, and I believe we would experience honest emotion free of the fear of how we might appear to others, and also finally free from resisting the power we might be surrendering in having done so.

This is our legacy, the house we build not out of wooden beams, bricks and mortar, but rather the house we build for our souls, which will be filled with only light and goodness, and where our needs will be small and simple, however met in abundance.

I have learned a lot about strength in the last nine years. It is not the kind of strength that would push others away so that I might insulate myself from pain, but rather the brand of might that can only be found in drawing people close, in giving and sharing, in laughing and rejoicing. It is a recipe that feeds the heart as well as the soul, and one whose only ingredient is LOVE.

Details ....

I have slept in my king size bed for many nights now, but never alone … loneliness and despair were my constant companions, working in tandem like a cruel tag team while wreaking havoc upon my heart and playing punishing games with my delicate sensibilities. They told me I expected too much from life and that real love could only be found in fiction. They reminded me of how many times I’d made a mess of my life and asked me why it was I felt as if I deserved to be happy. As hard as I tried to deny them their satisfaction, I had to admit they made valid points in an effort to back up their arguments, so I began the process of acceptance. If this was how I was going to end up, then I needed to find a way to be comfortable. However, it was always a struggle, because this tiny little voice held captive deep within the recesses of my head and my heart was crying out to be heard …. so I began to pray, and eventually I began to believe. Faith is an amazing thing! Sometimes – most times – we have no way of knowing how our prayers are to be answered, but when they are, it takes our breath away. Discovering grace has been an answered prayer…..

And so when I went to bed last night and woke up this morning, my malicious companions were gone, forever banished from the kingdom of my soul. They had been replaced by a remarkable gift that makes me feel warm and safe and loved …. while stirring passions inside that rob me of all reason.

Although I am physically alone, I am spiritually coupled, joined in a bond that cannot be broken, and I take that love and passion on with me on this journey called life where it resides inside my mind, thereby enabling me to envision all the wonders that will come if I only keep the faith.

All Things Irish .....

You say
One love
One life
When it's one need
In the night
It's one love
We get to share it
It leaves you baby
If you don't care for it

I suppose I have loved all things Irish for as long as I can remember. One thing in particular is the lyrics to the above song by U2. The backstory being it was written by Bono when the band was recording years ago in Berlin. The survival of the group was in jeopardy due to dissention amongst its ranks when Bono became inspired by a certain chord.

I like the song, because for me it symbolizes the ongoing struggle required to maintain the relationships one holds most dear. Sometimes it is painful as emotions are laid bare to be examined up close in the light. Other times it can be selfish, even brutal in its honesty when feelings of disappointment override decency in a desperate attempt to reclaim one’s power. It goes on to illustrate through clever lyrics that although a couple may choose to live as one, it’s imperative to maintain a certain separateness in order to preserve individuality or you run the risk of losing your voice, “We are one but not the same…”

I have come to an understanding that sometimes unresolved hurt feelings like mine need to go invalidated, because for the other partner it is just too painful to admit their mistakes. I think the ultimate reason Charles and I did not work out had less to do with financial issues than a lack of faith and trust in our union that would have enabled us to share everything. In the end, I suffered what felt like betrayal and I’m guessing he suffered from feelings of inadequacy. For me to insist upon trying to hash it all out just leads to hurting each other again and again.

So if love is the temple and love is the higher law, then it makes no sense to continue hurting each other when we failed to hold fast to the truths incumbent within the ideal in the first place.

For The Sake of Love ....

Since the advent of Netflix in our home, on my days off and whenever I can manage the time, I try to relax and catch up on some of the television series I have missed. Aside from my writing, this really is the only method of relaxation I have at my disposal. The first series I watched in its entirety was The Borgias – the one filmed in Germany, not the US – which I loved, and now I’m watching Showtime’s The Tudors, which retraces the history of King Henry VIII. I’m currently one episode away from finishing Season 1 … I believe there are four.

I don’t know why I’m so drawn to historically based dramas of late, as in school history was something I learned to test well on an exam and then quickly forgot, but now it lures me ….. perhaps because of the fact I’m intensely interested in what motivates people to behave in the ways and manners in which they do. Maybe I hope coming to understand others will somehow help me gain better insight into the workings of my own mind.

I have come to believe the most driving force behind human behavior is love ….. whether that be love of power and prestige, love of money, love of fame and adoration or the most powerful emotion of all ….. love of another human being. Before I began my non-clinical case study, I was convinced it was sex, but that would be wrong. Sex can certainly be the driving force behind the desire to conquest, but all too often once that kind of passion subsides, it’s impossible to remain focused, while true love can keep couples spellbound for years.

Take Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn for example ….. while most are only familiar with the end of the story ……. Anne being convicted of treason, imprisoned in The Tower of London and subsequently beheaded, only observing a tragic end to a much more complicated love story cheats the two lovers of their rightful place in history. Because of his deep and abiding love for her, Henry waged war against his wife’s nephew, the Emperor of Spain, as well as the all-powerful Roman Catholic church. He went against the desires of his own subjects who held their queen, Catherine of Aragon, in very high esteem, and ultimately, he was willing to risk everything by altering an entire nation’s religious orientation in order to marry the woman he adored, which when you think about it makes the end of the story that much sadder, because in their case, love failed to conquer all.

Poignancy … The Burden of Maintaining a Legacy –

Today began my typical Sunday morning with sleeping in a bit, having an extra latte and taking the hour and a half to watch CBS Sunday Morning, but as opposed to the usual segments and commentary, this morning’s programming was devoted entirely to the Kennedy legacy, after having marked the 50th Anniversary of the assassination.

Sitting on the sofa, there were at least a dozen moments I had to gulp hard as I fought back tears of compassion … the sudden and tragic loss of an inspiring young president flanked by his beautiful, sophisticated wife and two adorable children. They represented a youth and vitality that was the burgeoning America of the early sixties, when armed with the power of conviction we stood in the face of foreign aggression and successfully stared it down while American industry, manufacturing and housing took off like wildfire as it spread from metropolitan areas to cities and towns across the country. This was the decade that gave rise to the only real serious talks about equality since Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation, and the concept of giving back was born in the hearts and minds of those who dared to think beyond their own immediate environment to envision a world uplifted through the tireless efforts of those dedicated to selfless service to people in need.

America was a young nation led by an exuberant young visionary who dared to dream big, and in the span of a few seconds, that youthful idealism was permanently laid to rest with the violent crack of three shots fired into the Presidential motorcade. Watching the news reals this morning, it still seemed more surreal than real as I saw the beautiful face of a devoted wife and mother turn to stone with an undeniable sadness permeating her features in all the photographs captured in the weeks following the tragedy, and I am reminded while some are born to greatness, others are unwittingly called to exemplify it. Although I was only six at the time, my ability to observe and feel for the human condition was amplified during that time, which as a matter of consequence greatly impacted my life from that point moving forward. I came to understand at a very young age that no one was really safe from potential hurt and pain, as even those with power and prestige, wealth and privilege, beauty and grace could be stricken down in the flash of an instant, and as such it is fate who gets to pick and choose who is taken and who is spared. Thus all any of us can do is try to live the life we think is best and never forget to thank God for His infinite wisdom and grace even when we fail to comprehend the delicate balance that holds it all together.