The year in review: 2011

What did you do this year that you have never done before: 

Annalise Emerick releases her EP, Starry Eyed

Drove to Denver and back a million times, worked with little kids who have had big losses, acquired pet rats and named them, earned a graduate degree, took a licensing test and got three new letters after my name, hiked up a 14er,  watched my girl release her first EP, wore cowboy boots with a dress (twice) and saw lots of new places.

What about your 2011 resolutions? Did you keep them? 
I don't remember them, so the answer is likely "no."  Sorry.

Deaths: None.

Births: Annalise's  childhood friend Maddie had a gorgeous baby girl and my friends Greg and James adopted little Davis!

Weddings: My brother married his new bride and brought us all more joy and fun. It was such an exceptional, small, effortless and magical wedding that I blogged about it and I only blogged about 4 times last year. This wedding got me, good. And, with this wedding, I got an exceptionally awesome 4 year old niece. Bonus!

Molly the Rat loves kids

What about travel?
Local only except for Christmas. I did see some magical places locally, but not as many as I did last year.

What would you like to have in 2012 that you wish you'd had more of  in 2011?
More time with friends, more authenticity regarding myself, assistance with home/yard things and social interactions.Travel and adventure, bravery and more poise in situations where I'm being asked for my opinions and thoughts.


What dates from 2011 will you never forget? Why? 
June 6th when I graduated and learned I won an award for a paper I wrote  (Animal Assisted Interventions with Youth Experiencing Traumatic Grief).
September 11th, and not for the anniversary of the WTC bombings, for reasons that will remain unblogged.

Biggest achievement of the year?
Trusting the process in my work with kids and getting better at allowing for awkward silences. Completing my MSW, and all of those papers and bibliographies. Staying positive as much as possible.

Biggest failure?
Giving up authenticity when it's easier to let things slide.  Trying to hard to make things "work" and trying to hard in general. Putting on that helper mode to the point where it annoys even me. This is how we learn, right? 
 
Best thing you bought?
A wireless ipod/radio system so I can listen to my ipod music in the house and a coffee maker that grinds and brews.

Whose behavior do you applaud? 
My daughter for her bravery, talent and determination. She got it done and she's still getting it done. In the Top Ten Singer/Songwriter list when her EP was released on iTunes. All of this is great, but more so, she's kind and loving. My friends and coworkers who put up with me  being busy and gone a lot during the academic part of the year and their support as I finished. This meant everything to me.

Whose behavior appalled you?
Let's just say that anger is the mind killer and people should not let their minds be killed. 

What did you get really, really, really excited about?
 I started my first official Social Work position at  GVCO. I'm the Social Worker for a brand new housing program for Veterans. It's been a start up, create it as I go process, (my favorite kind!)   I took my licensing test and when I passed, dorky me hugged the poor guy who worked at the testing place. Now that I have my license,  I can now do some private work on the side to keep working on my counseling chops. I was very excited to have Abbot join the family, he is a former seeing eye dog, who now works as my social worker/counselor partner. He's a natural, of course.

What song will always remind you of 2011?
My girl's tune, This Love Won't Break Your Heart.

Anything else you would like to add?
Like every year, this one wasn't easy, though there were sweet moments. I am privileged to do the work that I do and lucky that I love it while I'm doing it. My work got me through the year and led the effort for an overdue  aha! about boundaries, authenticity, honesty and being in the moment. I get it now. Thank you 2011 for ramming that into my consciousness so well that I will not forget it.   I said goodbye to a very sweet relationship that I learned much from and will always feel glad to have experienced. As the year ends, my house, which I thought would be way too big for me, is now full, thanks to three dogs, two rats and assorted visitors and friends. This makes me happy.
2011 was an archaeological dig. I learned what I love, what I don't love, what I want in my day to day and what won't work in my day to day. I found some hidden treasures and a lot of dust. 2012 will be a year to put these discoveries into practice.

Bounding over Boundaries

The topic of my life for the past...3 months has been Boundaries, their meaning, use and abuse. Mine have been fuzzy and flexible, unclear and ripe for invasion. I have not protected them, not by a ginormous wall like the one they are building in Texas, nor by a stern glance or turn of phrase, nor by even shoring them up with mud and bricks.
Nope, I have been allowing them to get tattered, torn and shredded with indecision, ineffective materials such as excuses and a thousand chances.
Why?
Well, I've been busy, new job, post graduate school transitions, training my dog, cleaning my house, washing my hair.

But, the truth is, Boundaries have always been a second thought for me. I'm a chance giving fool, the one who would have her hand raised first to volunteer, the one who always and I mean always wants to make food for sick friends. (I'll continue to do this, for friends.)

But that's changing. I'm practicing my boundaries.
It's a must.

My work, the work I worked so hard to be able to do and do well, requires me to be present and available for people who do not have to give back to me.  The work requires me to be sometimes pulled in and drawn in and wanting to join the pain and tears in the person next to me.

But, a girl can't do that all the time, full time or even part time and stay sane. Instead, we must dole out our energy, our empathy always present, doesn't have to become a joining. Not only is this dangerous, it's also disrespectful. People must walk their very own walk.
I walk mine.
You walk yours.

So, when I say, no, enough, not gonna happen, if I don't believe what I'm saying I may as well be saying, yes, certainly, well, okay.

But now, no means no. No. No. No.


 Got that?

weddings

My brother's wedding stirred me up a bit.

 I know marriage is not a cake walk and it's not a solution or a way to happiness, it is just one of the ways to couple up. Still, the dresses and wine and flowers and toasts have an impact that catches me unaware and then there am tearing up as people declare their  love of and desire to protect each other, forever.

 Though we know this acceptance and love is tested and we know that it is sometimes extended conditionally, the idea of it, draws me in like a Monarch to milkweed.

smiling

I cannot smile in photographs. I look like I'm posing or unnatural or stiff...is that what I really look like? How do I get over this? Why is this haunting thing from my youth about looking "right" still coming through in photographs? How do I slay this beastie?
Today I will practice not smiling in photographs, not "thinking of something funny" and just being where and who I am in the moment.
that is a start.

Missing the boat, yet enjoying the trip.

My brother is getting married to a wonderful girl. Together they are creating a new family, knitting together their lives, their daughters, their stuff, their hopes, fears, pasts and futures. I'm happy for them.

 I was divorced ages ago and while there have been opportunities for marriage, none of these made me want to willingly walk down an aisle to yoke my life with another.  I was already sweetly yoked with my daughter and I was for a long time, a bit terrified of marriage.

Marriage felt like a trap to me. Even as I said my vows, I was realizing that I was in the wrong place. Instead of being there in that place with all of those people, I should be on a ship, sailing to Europe or Africa. I had, metaphorically and literally, missed this boat.

 I had a lot of friends who were married. As a single mom, a young one at that, I was often the one who watched the kids of these older, stable, married couples when they went to marriage counseling. That happened more than a few times. I realized that I was probably happier than them.This happiness may not have been solely due  to my single status, but it certainly wasn't in  spite of it.  I was told I should be sad about a single mom, even a bit ashamed, it was, after all, due to a divorce. Why was I happy? Where was my shame?

It was suggested, often that I  find a man to raise my daughter with, and that I should think about having more children. I didn't understand. My daughter was and is amazing and I never wanted more children because there was barely enough time to be there for and enjoy her.

The thing is: Once a person realizes, fully, that they have choices, they begin making them.


The relationship I'm in now is teaching me new things. It's teaching me to embrace the unexpected and the unpredictable. It's teaching me that love can be offered openly and without a list of things I need to change. I can depend on love and I don't have to become legally yoked to feel committed. I'm always loyal, but I  haven't always felt fully committed. A man who can stand by while you freak out over your own fear and then offer to make some coffee, and can step up to meet you halfway is the one you can sail on that boat with without making a permanent stop in legal land.

I am probably not making much sense. But in the politics of marriage, I'm happy to see people marrying because they truly love each other. At the same time, it makes absolutely no sense that you can only do this is you are heterosexual and my  gay and lesbian friends cannot, yet, legally marry.

I am very happy that married or unmarried, I will feel equally accepted, shameless and groovy and I celebrate this, because it is a pretty wonderful realization.

on titanium rods, or, Does anyone blog anymore?

I used to "blog" almost every day. It was a way to anonymously (for a time, anyway), get my writing done, the kind of writing that helped me begin to figure things out a bit. I blogged about my work with the homeless, my work in film, my life and times and even my titanium rod.  The blog at one time had over 340 weekly visitors. These visitors included, and I'm guessing here, friends, family, stalking exes, old friends I hadn't seen in ages, other filmmakers and people who happened to google "titanium rod" and get  a hit on my blog. 
I blogged about my dog Keni and how hard it was to lose him and about my grandmother and how hard it was to lose her.  I blogged about my daughter and how cool she is. I blogged about the car wreck and surgeries and, yes, that titanium rod that still holds my left arm together. I blogged about my travels and about the move to Colorado and for a tiny bit of time, in spurts, I blogged about graduate school, until I realized I had no time to blog while writing research papers and reading about theories and thinking about people.
(All of this is in my blog history, which has turned out to be quite handy and helpful).

So, now I have graduated. I am no longer working, much anyway, as a freelance writer and photographer. I am starting career number 93, actually, it's just number 7 and I'm living less on the edge and more time is available to think and ponder and write about it.

So I am going to blog again. You can stop by if you want, but I will not be offended if you choose not to. I am going to blog about anything and everything, just to do it. I don't think there will be much on titanium rods, but I do think there will be a few posts that reference that time.


here goes...

What's your calling?

The snow began falling near Edwards  and by the time I reached the Vail summit, I, along with all the other folks driving west to east on I-70, had slowed to about 30 miles per hour A drive which usually takes between 3.5 and  4 hours, took 7 hours. S-e-v-e-n.

My 7 hour commute to graduate school on MLK day, was made so I could attend one 8 a.m. class and a meeting with my Independent Study professor the next morning.  I must be dedicated, or crazy, or neither.

I'm not from Colorado, so when I first thought about driving from the most west city in the state across the Rocky Mountains to the big city of Denver once a week, to go to graduate school, I thought nothing of it.  I never thought about moving to Denver.  I liked the smaller community of Grand Junction and decided to figure out a way to stay there and still go to school in Denver. Driving over once a week was my solution.

Any time I told a Colorado native about my  school commute, they pretty much always said something like: "Driving to Denver, every week? Even in the winter? Really? Every week?? This would be followed by something like, "Can't you go to school part time or online or just move to Denver?"

I just smiled and reassured them, "Yes, that's the plan.  It's only for two years and only during the quarters and I get summer's off and I love the mountains, remember I come from the flat lowlands of Texas." As for going part time or online, no thanks, I wanted to be there in person and I wanted to get it done sooner rather than later.

Thankfully, I had no idea what I was getting in to. Once again, my proclivity to just do what I thought I needed to do, took over, allowing me to bypass any worry and concern about weather and snow and other drivers and icy roads. This has played out in other areas of my life, too. When I started running, I signed up for a marathon, for example.  I've made peace with the fact that I'm someone who decides to do something and does it. It's how I roll.

I did take practical measures. I traded my Honda Civic for a Suburu and I bought it some good tires. I got a library car and preordered a few books on tape. I got a little ice chest for travel snacks. I even got a doggie seat belt for my collie pup, Phil.

And most of the time, it was just fine. The roads were fine. The other drivers were mostly fine. It worked.

Then there are days like today.
Days when I have time to think about how an MSW degree is one of the most credentialed degrees a person can get so they can do really hard work for very little pay. One that requires further testing and supervision hours to get licensed. One that requires a lot of writing of papers and digesting of theories and where you are so busy with school and field practice that there is no time to earn any real money.

I thought about that on my drive today. I pondered it, wrestled it down and stared it in the face.

Here's what happened.

I remembered why I'm here. I came the circuitous route to social work. I had some some really cool jobs.  I was promoted and given more responsibility.  I managed teams and shipped products. I stayed up all night to finesse a book edit or to sit with software developers as we figured out what to do about some big product issue. I made films and got people to invest money in them, I rubbed elbows with people and tried to be cool enough.  I traveled around the country promoting films and talking them up and talking to people and again, trying to be the right kind of cool.

It wore me out.

And yet, when I worked at the little homeless day shelter in Austin, and I came home exhausted and spent, I still had some life in me. I still wanted to go back. I still wanted to understand how to do the work more fully, more evenly, and to learn how to be with people authentically. It felt easy to me. It was hard work, but it wasn't hard to do the work. Does that make sense? When a mentally ill client screamed at me, I could calm him down easily. When a crack addicted kid picked me out to be his friend, I was game. I felt at home in that world and I felt cool enough. Always.

But I knew there were things I didn't know. I also knew there were things I didn't know I didn't know. Things like theories and policy and legal issues and research and while I thought I was a multiculturally aware person, having lived a pretty interesting life and been to a lot of places, I wasn't as culturally cool as I thought I was. I also didn't really "get" boundaries and self care.



I am almost done.

Here's what I have left to do:
17 more round trips from Grand Junction to Denver (approx 480 miles)
10-12 papers left to write
Complete 1 big research project
Get Philleas' Canine Good Citizenship Certification and Therapy Dog certification
Drink about 33 more triple shot Americanos (1 for each day of class)
Listen to about 20 more Books on Tape
Read many more books and articles, so many I cannot estimate the page count.

Then I'll be done.
I'll have an MSW degree. I'll be a Licensed Social Worker and one day a Licensed Clinical Social Worker.