INTERVENTION

I watched INTERVENTION on TV for the first time and two weeks later I still have the urge to throw the sofa through the television.  What really kicked my butt was watching how deadly the enabling and care taking was and knowing just how much of it I have done in my life. I am totally and absolutely more comfortable being a drunk and belligerent abusive person and trying to change that than I am being somebody that is abusing somebody else in order to be comfortable and make myself feel OK. I always justify myself by saying that the other person will feel so much better if they just did things my way because I have their best interests at heart. Those last couple of statements prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that  honesty can be undignified.  And so can I.  Some parts of me make me want to puke.

Al-Anon...Here I come.

ABOUT ME

OK.... Jamie H. is NOT my real name. It is the name my boy gave me.  "H" IS my middle initial.  Hawk Kai is not my kids name either. It is what I call him because of his ability to see things so clearly.

I am not trying to hide anything whatsoever. I have chosen to use these names partly because they mean something to me and my kid and partly because I take the concepts of anonymity and humility very seriously. That is the reason I don't list my location.  I am hoping that what I choose to write about touches the human heart in all of us rather than some prescribed label group created to categorize people into certain places and leaving them there. I believe in everybody and I want this to be a place where people feel free to grow, heal, change and become whatever they are created to be. That may be harder if people knew who I am and where I am coming from.

That being said, I write about me, my life, loved ones, and my experience along my way and those that have met me may reconize some of my stories.  If that happens I ask that you not tell the world who I am because in reality, I am just one in billions, trying to do the next right thing. and while I do actually know my name, that is about all I know about myself. This whole thing is an expedition into the great wide open to find myself, create myself and be myself.

CREATING MYSELF

I have sort of floated through my life for the last whole bunch of  years, achieving here and failing there.

So...

All of a sudden I get this command from the great unknown to actually create myself and take responsibility for who I am and what I have chosen. I believe that generally speaking this job is one most women do in their teens, twenties and thirties.  Not me. I was too busy proving myself to the rest of the world and when I wasn't doing that...drinking beer and getting into very difficult marriages. I have spent decades establishing patterns that don't work with the concept of creating myself. They are connected to doing what others want me to do, filling roles others want me to fill or that need filling, and floating along with out really thinking or making much of an effort.

Now, apparently, I am hag enough to be myself and ready to embark on the sacred and holy journey of becoming and /or revealing who God made me to be.

Just because this is absolutely necessary, sacred, and holy doesn't mean I am not scared out of my wits that I will not follow through.

I am petrified and excited and clueless.

Lovely.

THE CONVERSATION

I have been struggling lately.

At first I thought I couldn't get a groove on. No big deal. It will come together in time.

Then I knew I was nowhere near a groove. A bigger deal but not panic inducing.

Then... not only is my groove in the next county but I have no idea what is going on in my life; I'm confused, ineffective, cranky and am losing myself at every turn. Panic is in the building and doing push ups.

What I don't get is that I really have nothing to complain about. All my basic needs are taken care of. My kid is so beautiful it takes my breath away. I have people to love and people that love me. My health and that of my family is pretty good. Everything is fundamentally well.

So - I tell all this to God. I unload everything. How I feel selfish to be feeling this way and I really ought not to be feeling this way but I do feel this way and... and...and... GOD WHAT DO I DO?! WHAT DO I CHANGE?!?

Sometime in the darkest part of the night I got the answer.

Learn to cook.

Me: WHAT?!?! HUH?!?! ARE YOU NUTS?!?! FOR REAL?!?!

Learn to cook and write. Do it every day. The answers will come.

Me: I don't want to learn how to cook! I don't like to cook! I want people to cook for me or buy food for me already prepared! I'm fat! I'm broke! My career has temporarily evaporated and I haven't worked in a year! My marriage broke up three years a go and I can't make it work and I can't let it go! I'm worried about my mom! And the answer is learn to cook?!?!? And write?!?!?


Yes.


Me: What about a job?!?!? I need a job?!?!?


Look for one. Hard. And while you are doing that - learn to cook. And write.

Me: My kid! How is learning to cook going to help him?!? I need to be there for him!!! I am a mother. I have responsibilities!!!!

Learning to cook is not going to hurt him. You being lost and no where near your heart WILL hurt him.
On and on the conversation goes.
The answers came quietly and firmly while my resistance, evading, arguing, and bargaining came full of self pity and immaturity. I fought the fight of a fifty year old toddler. The answers didn't need to fight because they had already established authority. They were obviously coming from way down deep in my heart or from something way bigger outside of myself. Or both. Probably both.
Now THAT intimidated me. Big time.
So I surrendered. Not gracefully or bravely or well intentioned or in any other good way. I surrendered like a loser and only because I couldn't win.
Fine. I will do what I can to cook and write every day.
Round one: Me - 0, The answers - 1.