So lots has been happening in my world over the past few months. Some of it good, but unfortunately so much more has not been. I've been living in crisis mode. Trying to survive every day - just hoping the next will be sustainable. It takes a lot out of a person when your world starts to crumble around you. When those you thought you trusted the most - betray you. When those you held the closest start to slip helplessly away and you have no control over the situation. And any time you try to make something positive happen - only the worst is derived from your actions.
This has been my life for the last eight months. Sustained barely on the edge of keeping my own mental state together - just pushing through each day - because I had to. Days I would take a shower - just so I could cry away my pain as I felt like I had no shoulder to cry on. My family was under attack, some from within - some from without and I couldn't deflect the negative fast enough. I sustained and painted a happy face - while all the time my insides were crumbling away.
I've had what I would consider an adversarial life. Everything I have - I've had to fight to get. Nothing has come easy for me. And inside I so often wonder why I was brought here at all. I've lost more than most will ever understand. And yet I persevered. I'm Irish - and I always say if I didn't have bad luck - I wouldn't have any at all. But one thing I have had is my inner drive to learn new things and try to share those with others. When my chips are the farthest down - I try to bury myself in projects, activities and work.
I've never considered myself really good at anything. I'm a hack... I can get through - make a great show of things - but I just don't have the self-esteem or drive to propel me to greatness, not do I really want to either. But I do like to share what little I do know with others. Letterboxing has granted me a unique avenue to do some of those things that I can quietly enjoy and re-energize with. This past year, knowing that Live and Breathe was practically in my back yard - I opted to not host a long week camping event. Bu that just made for idle hands - so I opted to champion a friendly rivalry for PAL day. I worked hard all year to get Maine boxers motivated. I worked had to develop series that I had been toying with for numerous years - but never put through because they just didn't fit my event themes. The timing seemed perfect for some competitive fun.
Unfortunately - when things were beginning to work their way closer to PAL day, things at work and in my home life started to quickly unravel. Mentally I was stretched. Emotionally I was zapped. What had started out as a fun journey - was quickly turning hellish. I wanted it over. I wanted everything over. Nothing seemed to end fast enough - everyone demanded more from me and expectations grew to the point I was going crazy. I knew - if I mentally wanted to get through with my sanity - something had to give. But deadlines are deadlines - and I rarely let one - lapse without completing what's been assigned to me. And it all took its toll.
When the 'competition' started to get down and dirty - so did inbox messages. everyone wanted things fixed to suit themselves and their own needs. My hobby - which was barely keeping me sane - was suddenly turning into a nightmare. I've never enjoyed competition. I'm not competitive by nature. And if pushed into one - most times I just fold. This time I crumbled. My inbox exploded. Comments became adversarial. People wanted more and more - demanding more and more. I final shut down. Tuned everything and everyone out. I had to escape. I had to regroup. I had to stop the attacks. In the process I might have offended some - and I'm sorry for that - but I needed to save myself. I needed to find the joy that letterboxing used to bring me. I had to find a way to get my family back on track and try to help them recover from everything that was happening.
I'm still trying to recover. Letterboxing does seem to bring me some joy - but I still feel the attacks around me. Try as I might - I feel their impact, I can't seem to miss them. Letterboxing and its community has brought me so much joy. I've developed friendships and been to places that I never would have had I not discovered Atlas Quest. But when things get overwhelming - the last thing you want is the hobby that is supposed to renew your energy - take it away. Friends that make you happy - suddenly make you sad. When that happens - ties need to be cut. Relationships need to be restructured and you go into protection mode.
There are so many things I should be doing - but letterboxing always calls to me. So in my own way - I'm slowly rebuilding that bridge back to what used to be a strong island. It's going to take a while for me to finish it - so I'm asking for patience. My family is still in crisis - so I really do not need my hobby in crisis as well. I need it to go back to being my refuge. And hopefully it will very soon.
Friday, June 28, 2013
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Daily Commute
So on my way home today - I took a glance to my left and then to my right. 15 miles of my commute every day is along the highway. And I've driven many different sections of highway all over the country. On my way home today - I thought, man I'm lucky to have such a beautiful commute. Today, mixed in with the lush green grass were large masses of lupine and daisies - all gently swaying in the afternoon breeze, just winking up in the sunshine. Looking at the beautiful expanse... curtained by lush evergreens and trees covered in an array of lush green leaves, I took a moment to be thankful for such a serene and beautiful commute.
I've had commutes that were less attractive. Less serene. Less beautiful. It made me be very thankful that I ended up back in Maine to live. When I lived in Las Vegas - I has sparkling lights, high rise buildings, dusty sandy parking lots and on a really adventurous commute - a flash flood. Over the days, the lights twinkle would star to subtly fade as the dust would start to cover everything. The only time the lights would REALLY sparkle was after a heavy rain. But with the rain generally came the flash floods, and very slippery oil covered roads.
Here in Maine - my commute I see deer and turkeys. Sometimes even rabbits and other animals traveling alongside the daily commuters. The trees buffer one side from the other, giving you a sense that you are traveling in a peaceful place. Wild flowers dotting the lush green grass. And even after a rainstorm, the river swells but rarely causes a flash flood. On one section, after a rain, the ways bounces down the side of ledges, cut years ago when the highway was being built by sticks of dynamite. After a rain, the pooled water flows over the ledge catching the afternoon sunlight making the water sparkle in its brilliance.
In the winter it is just as beautiful. Especially after a freshly fallen storm. Everything is blanketed in a layer of white. So white you almost need sunglasses from its brilliance. As the afternoon's sun warms the tops of the trees - the evergreen boughs break through the thick white blanket. The dark green looking very lush against the white. The birch trees and other deciduous trees branches stretching out - attempting to hold onto the cold blanket that protects it from winter's biting winds. But the sun is stronger, and the snow slips from the branches fickle grasp.
That summer waterfall, in the winter ends up encases in thick but crystal clear ice. The sun glistens over the icicles as they hang precariously from the ledges edge. The warming afternoon sun, allowing the thick icicles to drip slightly - creating a cold pool of water during the day on the ground below. Over night, it forms into a small icy pond. One I'm sure some of those frisky winter rabbits skittle along playing in the winter's blanket of snow.
This section in the winter is also visited by local snowmobilers. It seems kind of strange to see snowmobiles whipping along the side of the highway - racing at you - as your heading home for the day. They dart in and out of the tree line, creating a path through the freshly fallen snow. But I know the next storm will cover up that path, and through it - it the early morning commute, I'll get to see tracks of the deer that gingerly cross the highway in search of winter's meals.
In the fall, the tree line is awash with the colors of the fall leaves. A painting in the making with white wispy clouds drifting across the still blue sky, three leaves painted in shades of orange, read and gold. Those few holdouts holding on and sticking it out a bit longer to have the green linger even as the days shorten and the air gets colder.
In the spring, as the winter melts away. The rivers rise and crest. Sometimes breaking out of their boundaries and flooding the low area between the northbound and southbound lanes. But as the weather warms, the earth absorbs the water. The dirt in the grass begins to fade away as the fresh grass starts to slowly push up. Soon the best smell in the world will slip through my windows during my commute. When the DOT workers ride along the sides of the road - mowing the grass. The first smell of freshly cut glass in the spring. The renewal of a new season.
Again - my commute is only 20 minutes on the worst day. But boy am I lucky to have the commute that I do. Here in Maine. Where seasons are varied and the views you can encounter - if you take the time to actually look - are truly amazing. I'm once again humbled to be living in such a beautiful state. I just love living in Maine - especially after a long day at work.
Here's hoping that your commute brings you as much joy every day. And even if you live in a concrete jungle - take the time to notice those little things. Sometimes our daily commute is the best time of our day!
I've had commutes that were less attractive. Less serene. Less beautiful. It made me be very thankful that I ended up back in Maine to live. When I lived in Las Vegas - I has sparkling lights, high rise buildings, dusty sandy parking lots and on a really adventurous commute - a flash flood. Over the days, the lights twinkle would star to subtly fade as the dust would start to cover everything. The only time the lights would REALLY sparkle was after a heavy rain. But with the rain generally came the flash floods, and very slippery oil covered roads.
Here in Maine - my commute I see deer and turkeys. Sometimes even rabbits and other animals traveling alongside the daily commuters. The trees buffer one side from the other, giving you a sense that you are traveling in a peaceful place. Wild flowers dotting the lush green grass. And even after a rainstorm, the river swells but rarely causes a flash flood. On one section, after a rain, the ways bounces down the side of ledges, cut years ago when the highway was being built by sticks of dynamite. After a rain, the pooled water flows over the ledge catching the afternoon sunlight making the water sparkle in its brilliance.
In the winter it is just as beautiful. Especially after a freshly fallen storm. Everything is blanketed in a layer of white. So white you almost need sunglasses from its brilliance. As the afternoon's sun warms the tops of the trees - the evergreen boughs break through the thick white blanket. The dark green looking very lush against the white. The birch trees and other deciduous trees branches stretching out - attempting to hold onto the cold blanket that protects it from winter's biting winds. But the sun is stronger, and the snow slips from the branches fickle grasp.
That summer waterfall, in the winter ends up encases in thick but crystal clear ice. The sun glistens over the icicles as they hang precariously from the ledges edge. The warming afternoon sun, allowing the thick icicles to drip slightly - creating a cold pool of water during the day on the ground below. Over night, it forms into a small icy pond. One I'm sure some of those frisky winter rabbits skittle along playing in the winter's blanket of snow.
This section in the winter is also visited by local snowmobilers. It seems kind of strange to see snowmobiles whipping along the side of the highway - racing at you - as your heading home for the day. They dart in and out of the tree line, creating a path through the freshly fallen snow. But I know the next storm will cover up that path, and through it - it the early morning commute, I'll get to see tracks of the deer that gingerly cross the highway in search of winter's meals.
In the fall, the tree line is awash with the colors of the fall leaves. A painting in the making with white wispy clouds drifting across the still blue sky, three leaves painted in shades of orange, read and gold. Those few holdouts holding on and sticking it out a bit longer to have the green linger even as the days shorten and the air gets colder.
In the spring, as the winter melts away. The rivers rise and crest. Sometimes breaking out of their boundaries and flooding the low area between the northbound and southbound lanes. But as the weather warms, the earth absorbs the water. The dirt in the grass begins to fade away as the fresh grass starts to slowly push up. Soon the best smell in the world will slip through my windows during my commute. When the DOT workers ride along the sides of the road - mowing the grass. The first smell of freshly cut glass in the spring. The renewal of a new season.
Again - my commute is only 20 minutes on the worst day. But boy am I lucky to have the commute that I do. Here in Maine. Where seasons are varied and the views you can encounter - if you take the time to actually look - are truly amazing. I'm once again humbled to be living in such a beautiful state. I just love living in Maine - especially after a long day at work.
Here's hoping that your commute brings you as much joy every day. And even if you live in a concrete jungle - take the time to notice those little things. Sometimes our daily commute is the best time of our day!
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