9 days and counting...

Okay, I give... NaNoWriMo has kicked my ass big time. Or should I say everything else going on this month has kicked my ass and NaNoWriMo has not gotten as much effort as I intended to give it? Either way, my word count is sadly lacking and I don't forsee being able to write 37,000+ words in the next week. *sighs*

I'm trying to tell myself that it's fine, I've given it my best shot considering all the other things I've been juggling this month. But really, I'm still rather annoyed with myself over the whole thing! MEH.

On a totally unrelated note, have I said lately how much I'm going to miss the incredible coffee I get here when we move to the US? With the exception of Starbucks, until I moved here I had no concept of the glorious wonders of espresso and how divine 2 shots of it are topped with some steamed milk and dusted with cinnamon... And how about the days when a healthy dose of chocolate finds itself swirled into the brew for a slightly sweet but not in any way sugary (if they make it right) dessert? Before moving here I didn't think it was possible to actually enjoy coffee without copious amounts of sugar and creamer. Oh how wrong I was!

Do you think I can fit a barrista and espresso machine in my suitcase?

On and on and on...

On Dentists--I have the most kickass dentist in the world. That's high praise coming from a major dental-phobe. I have more to say about him and the wonderful office he and his brother run, but for now, this will have to do. I've had 2 teeth pulled by him in the last week, both which were broken for various reasons. Most would opt to have them surgically removed since often trying to pull them causes the whole tooth to break, in which case they have to then go surgical and cut it out with some of the bone. But he was up for trying to get them out without all that and in the end they came out without breaking because the man has skills and is so damn patient!

Granted, I could feel some of the pulling today, fuck did that hurt! But it's not his fault they can't deaden the nerve there. The main nerve that gives sensation to the lip/chin area on that side of my jaw runs close to the root area of my back teeth, which can make numbing up a challenge, and since I already have problems with local anesthetic wearing off too fast or not working at all, that doesn't help matters. He did get it numbed better than anyone else ever has though, so kudos to the man!

I'm looking into ways to clone him (along with my Rheumatologist) so I can take them to the US with me 'cause I've never had such great care before. Usually I cry over having to go see the dentist, and now I'm going to end up crying over having to leave this dentist! What is the world coming to?

On week 2 of mushy foods--I miss my fresh, crunchy fruits and veggies, and I miss chewing food! LOL

On NaNoWriMo--Anyone else notice that a goal turns into a convenient whip in the hands of an obsessive perfectionist?? I am so guilty of that, and it's gotta stop. I've over the last few years been able to temper my inclinations towards things like that pretty well, but obviously I have more work to do in that area.

So I'm taking the wisdom on the topic that Jackie said in response to my last blog post and reminding myself that in the same way I've learned to give myself grace about other things, I need to be all zen-like about this as well. If I hit 50,000, WOO HOO!! If I don't, well, I still have more than when I began. One needs to enjoy the journey and release our attachment to the finish line, right? That doesn't mean we never reach any of our goals because we don't strive for them. Not at all. It just means remembering that the journey is just as important (if not more so) than meeting the goal we've set, and that as long as we've learned things and gained new experiences along the way, it's still a win, even if we don't reach our goal the first time around.

That said, I'm still going to try my damnedest to reach it! I wrote a shitload last night, so my count is a bit over 11,000 right now, but a lot of that is very "stream of consciousness" and random. I think it'll help give me topics on which to expound on at a later time this month, so it's all good!

Keep up the good work all my NaNo writers out there!!

My NaNoWriMo word count is mocking me!

Yes, it totally is. It's bad! I must confess that I actually haven't written anything since Nov.4th...today is the 9th, 5 days people, 5 bloody days behind!

"Why so behind?" you ask. Take damn elections in the US and NZ mixed with a little misery from my missing tooth, heaping spoonfuls of disbelief, sorrow, and angst over the whole anti-gay ballot initiatives passing, and a really generous dash of "psycho-bitch" attitude that I've had going on for the last 3 days, blend well with ice, pour into a lovely sugar rimmed glass and you too can have a taste of the potent brew (otherwise known as the emotional disaster that lives in my mind) that I've been intoxicated with the last few days!

In that state it seems I can't focus my brain enough to write things I actually have to think deeply about! *sighs* I woke up this morning thinking that maybe the nice me would make an appearance today so that I could get something useful done. After getting a slow start to the morning I decided to make pancakes for lunch to experiment with the coconut flour my mom sent from the US. Didn't work quite as well as I'd hoped for, which caused me to "tweak" things a bit, and things got worse and then....my not so sane self took over and for the millionth time this week Chris gave me that look that says "Who are you and what the hell have you done with my Wahz?" (Wahz--Chris' nickname for me)

Yeah.

Note to self: Do not attempt cooking when psychoself is lurking in the shadows, ready to have a nervous breakdown over every little imperfection!

So now, hours later, I'm writing this blogpost so that one more thing can be crossed off my list of "Excuses to use in order to procrastinate from working on NaNoWriMo". My work-in-progress is open, as is my NaNoWriMo profile with my word count. They are staring at me, mocking me for ignoring them for the past week. Since when did text files and word counts get so mouthy?

I swear though, readers of my blog, I WILL make progress on my wordcount today! If for no other reason than I don't want to be a whole week behind...and I'm having a wisdom tooth taken out tomorrow. I know, 2 teeth out within a week of each other? Bit masochistic of me, but I'm terribly impatient and would rather it all be done and over with as soon as possible.

Words people, I need words.

Today is technically my 3rd day of NaNoWriMo! So far today I haven't written a thing for it, although I have been writing other things. I'm trying to get everything done so I cannot come up with any more reasons to procrastinate, since we all know that procrastination and I are like, BFF. *snort*

I got a little over 2,000 words written the first day, none yesterday because I opted for sleep rather than writing, and because I knew that today I'd be at the dentist getting a tooth pulled and then be an invalid for a few days. And what better thing to do when trying to ignore cotton stuffed in your mouth than write, right? Hah! Well, the dentist's secretary called at like 7:45 am to tell me the dentist was home sick and we'd have to reschedule for tomorrow! Good news is I can now eat the soba peanut noodle thing I plan to make with the fresh asparagus living in my fridge. The bad news is I have one more day to mope about having to go to the dentist. It will be fine, really. I have this one pulled this week, and the bloody broken wisdom tooth to get out next week! I see lots of mushy food in my future... *sighs*

Anyhow, so I'd better get to writing, once I make lunch/dinner. I get diazepam before the procedure tomorrow, so if my post tomorrow seems rather odd, you'll know why! Combined with a certain other medication I'm on it may make me pretty entertaining, or sleepy, we shall see. Last time I took it (before an MRI) I was fine, just didn't give a shit I was in a tiny tunnel. I got a bit giggly and dizzy afterwards though. The dizziness can stay away, vertigo would be about the only thing that would kill my NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo writing!

Is there such a thing as blog fright?

"Do one thing every day that scares you." -Eleanor Roosevelt

That quote has been running through my mind for the past 20 minutes as I sit here staring at the empty text box on my screen. From the previous posts in this blog I'm sure anyone can tell I'm not the type that never has much to say, so the sudden loss of words has been a bit puzzling to say the least.

And then it hit me.

I have stage fright! Errr, or blog fright (if there is such a thing).

Usually I have no problem coming up with something to ramble about, but that's because not many people read my blog and most of the few that do I know personally, so having them read my writing is no big deal. But while trying to write this post it suddenly occurred to me that since I've decided to try the "post every day for a month" thing, once I'm added to the blogroll other people might stop by to have a read! Don't get me wrong, that's cool, I love to read other's blogs and have them respond to mine (I blog elsewhere on occasion with more readers), but somehow this is different.

I know it seems silly to have stage fright over such a thing, but since those kind of fears aren't rational to begin with, it is what it is. Standing on a stage about to give a speech is one of the only things that consistently leaves me speechless!

Surely it's just a passing thing, but 'til it goes I'll just have to do what they say to do when staring out at the mass of people before you:

Picture you all in your underwear. ;-P

Lessons learned the hard way

I took this picture standing in the brush that stretched along the beach. What do you suppose was running through my head? "Wow, what an amazing view, I'm so lucky to be here soaking in this moment!" Mmmm...nope. Try more like "Hmmm, wonder how far off sunset is. We told the manager at the motel we'd be checking in soon, I bet we're still 30 minutes out, we've got to get on the road. I think there's a beach in Westport someone was raving about on that discussion board, I should go catch a sunset photo from there, it might be even better than this one!"

So we hopped in the car and set off for Westport. Me sitting in the passenger seat, agitated that we weren't there already, wondering what the other beach would look like, hoping the proprietors of the motel wouldn't be annoyed if we were a few minutes off schedule. Chris quietly trying to drive down the country road without hitting any stray cows. Oh yeah, and that tiny voice in the back of my head that was throwing a fit because we left the beach and were headed away from the sunset. It wanted to stay there, set up the tripod, and patiently wait for the sun to drop even with the horizon so it could capture the perfect sunset shot. But I had plans damn it, a travel checklist to adhere to, and a rumored great beach to get to before the sun set!

When we saw the clouds moving in over the mountains start to glow pink I knew in the pit of my stomach I'd made the wrong decision. I could feel that "oh you stupid idiot!" panic start to set in as my eyes scanned the roadside looking for any clue as to how far we had to go to reach Westport. 5 kilometers later we passed a little town called Carters Beach and a side road that I could see might have led out to the beach, but I didn't want to ask Chris to stop the car and turn around and risk that I might have been wrong. Glancing in the rear view mirror was painful, the sun was setting faster than I thought it would, clouds aflame in hot pink, deep orange drifting across the sky, it was stunning, and I kicked myself again. 10 kilometers more and we were in Westport. But wait, where was the beach? Down the center of town Chris drove, no beach in sight. We paused long enough to get our bearings and then headed in the direction of the water, hoping we'd hit the beach in time.

We never did find the "spectacular beach" of Westport. The road ended at a lighthouse type building with writing on the road reminding people to not stop and park their cars there. But there were 6-7 cars lining the road, stopped to watch the sunset. I grabbed the camera and took a picture in hopes of catching the hot pink color in the clouds while my eyes welled up with tears. To top it all off, the car decided it didn't want to start again, and we spent several minutes practically holding our breath, begging it to start. All I could think of is calling AA sitting in our rental car, stopped in a "no stopping" area at the tip of a tiny roadway stuck out in the water! Thankfully, it started after we gave it a few minutes, apparently it doesn't like to start right after you shut it off, so we had several "Please start, oh please, please, please start!" moments before we turned the thing back in.

Why did I leave that other beach? I have over a dozen photographs even better than the one I posted above (like my new header for example!), the rocks, the water, the foliage, the way it faced the setting sun, it was PERFECT. And I hopped in the car and sped away from it. Why? Because I wasn't in the moment. I was consumed with all the other things going on in my head, the perceived expectations of others waiting on me, the vague promise of a better beach elsewhere. Why didn't I stop when my gut told me to? Why didn't I ask Chris to turn around and go back? It would have been so easy, I'd have gotten the shot! Why? Because I felt like I had made a decision and so I needed to follow it through and stick with it.

I have a secret. Deep down within me I am an incredibly random and spontaneous person! I delight over simple things like the smoothness of a rock deposited on the beach by the ocean, the salty crispiness of perfectly done shoestring fries, the way a loved one's eyes twinkle when they laugh, packing an overnight bag and renting a hotel room in a town 2 hours away spur of the moment, just to enjoy a different bed, no internet, and a night with nothing else to do but get lost in Chris' arms. But there is something that keeps that person inside me tied up, pushed down, and gasping for air. Sometimes she rarely gets to see the light of day. I catch glimpses of her from time to time but for the most part the other "me" rules. The practical me. The one that tries to juggle it all, that makes plans, lists, appointments. The one that obsesses over the most minute details, who paces when we don't leave the house on time, that panics if it looks like we might be late for an appointment. The one that struggles with panic attacks when things seem to be spinning out of her control, the one who is so caught up in the past and the future that she fails to cherish the present.

I don't know how to let the me imprisoned inside me out in the same way I don't know how to make the other me CHILL OUT. But I know I've got to figure it all out because days are passing me by that I'm not living because I'm too busy caught up in the struggle between the two. And I'm tired of learning painful lessons the hard way because she makes me drown out the real me, the one that goes with her intuition, the one that whispers to me the right thing even as I turn away from her.

I learned a painful lesson that sunset day. It's never too late to turn around! We cannot let our fears of admitting we are wrong rule our lives so much that we "stay the course" all the while knowing within us we shouldn't. So the next time I'm in that car headed the wrong way I hope I have the guts to stop the car and turn around. Sometimes we drive away in search of the very thing that was there in front of us, we're just too blind to see it.

I'm 26 for a moment...

Life is such an odd thing. The older I get the more I realise that time passes so fast and yet we still will it to go faster. When I was 9, my 10th birthday couldn't come fast enough because then I'd finally be allowed to get my ears pierced. Then I couldn't wait to be 13 because I'd be a "teen" then! I counted down the days until my 16th birthday, convinced that the closer I got to adulthood the better life would be, when that didn't materialise at 16 I figured by 18 I'd be all set for college and getting out of my parents house. At 18 that didn't happen as planned and I was ready to be 21 because I thought by then I'd have my path in life all sorted out!

On my 21st birthday I decided life was hell and I really wanted to go to sleep and never wake up, or at least fast forward through my life a good bit and come out once things sorted themselves out because surely at 23 things would be better! At 23 I forced myself to leave my parent's house to go visit family friends in Florida and stayed there for almost 6 months, trying desperately to get something moving in my life because I thought for sure I was doomed to be forever stuck there, then ended up actually going back there to live and thought I'd really fucked up then. I think 23 was one of the longest years of my life, but also the one I changed the most in, although 24 comes in a close second.

By my 25th birthday I was engaged, moved to a foreign country, and married! Talk about time moving fast! I thought my 25th year would find me in the US, starting college. You see, I have this anxiety over college. I didn't get to go when I was 18, and in hindsight that isn't such a bad thing because who I am now is quite far from who I was then, and at least I didn't take up 4 years getting a degree I'd never use. But it was okay, I figured I could still squeeze in a degree before I was 30, not too bad. Things never quite go to plan though, and now halfway through 26 I'm still in NZ, planning our next step in life. By the time I start school I'll be 27, so that degree won't come until I'm in my 30's and that does not make me very happy. I feel like suddenly life is rushing by at a breakneck speed and if I blink I'm going to miss the chance to do what I want to do. So I plan, fret, worry, obsess, plan some more, pace and I think I've about driven myself crazy. I feel like I'm constantly trying to play catch up with life.

Why do we do this? I know I'm not the only one to have this problem. When we're young we're in such a hurry to grow up that we spend our time pushing forward, trying not to think about how young we are, constantly fighting to be seen as older, wiser, more mature, anything to not be the kids we are. Then we find ourselves in our mid 20's and people are telling us we've got to get our career going, find a great person to "settle down" with, we get the grandkids question, and it seems as if everyone around us is pitching in to keep pushing us forward, always looking for the next thing, the next item on the checklist. Spouse? Check! 2.5 kids? Check! 9-5 office job? Check! Career path in place? Check! House and the debt that comes with it? Check! 2 cars? Check!

On and on we go, speeding through the list, becoming the people that society has convinced us we want to be until we hit our 40's and then all the sudden we dig our heels in and try to bring the ride to a screeching halt! How the fuck did we get close to half a century old? Where did our life go? We had dreams! Things we wanted to do, places we wanted to go, and now what of them? We have a house to pay off, kids in high school that we've gotta put through college, we barely recognise ourselves in the mirror, and that 9-5 job? We've always secretly hated it. Is it any wonder why so many people go through a "mid-life crisis" and try to scramble back and do all the things that they shoulda/coulda/wanted to do when they were in their 20's but they were too consumed with getting to the next goalpost to take the time to do it?

I've often wondered if the US is the only place that has the "mid-life crisis" problem, because your 20's often go a bit different in more British countries. Over here it's not uncommon to find people in their late 20's or early 30's in school still. Taking 6 months or a year off to travel after high school, after college, and even between jobs is not unusual either. My sister in law took 3-4 months off of work and toured parts of South America! She had the leave saved up, here you get 4 weeks leave per year, so that wasn't too hard to save up, and she's a year older than me, not married. Here Chris and I were considered a bit "young" getting married when we did, while in the US people figured I'd never get married since at 23 I had no prospects!

As much as I worry about spending the next 4, 6, 10 years in school pursuing some degree to get me closer to some career aspirations I have, more than anything else I fear being that person that has a mid-life crisis at 40 because I feel like I never gave myself permission to let go and LIVE while I didn't have the burden of a mortgage, kids to create a stable home life for, and a business to carry.

I am convinced that when we are 70 we look back and instead of thinking "I should have spent more time at work." we are instead wishing that we'd lived in the moment, taken more risks, spent more time with the people we loved instead of worrying about all the things that in the end don't matter so much. Several times I've had people in their 60's and 70's tell me to enjoy being young, take risks, live life to the fullest, and just go for things instead of obsessing over them because before I know it, the chance will have passed me by. But how? They never tell me HOW! Which brings me to my next blog topic---letting go.

Conundrum

What do you do when you realise an opinion you've held for a long time is not quite what you thought it was? One that you've taken inside you and made a part of your very identity? How do you learn to let it go? Why do I end up with such vexing conundrums?

For a while now I've been wrestling with something so deeply ingrained in me that even debating it within my own mind feels like blasphemy. Back and forth I go until I've practically driven myself mad. When I can't contain it inside any longer I finally end up talking it over with a trusted someone else. It's funny how even voicing doubt over a personal opinion feels like you're being unfaithful to yourself!

This is not the first deep issue I've wrestled with in this way. I can replay in my mind's eye the times where I've felt the earth shift from beneath me as something I've based my whole self on crumbles to pieces. They say ignorance is bliss and they (whomever they are) are so right. The more I know the more I realise I don't know. The more I see the more I want to close my eyes and yet know I can't. I know too much and yet not enough.

The rational side of me demands concrete answers to the issues I wrestle with. The intuitive part of me knows that those absolutes aren't there. It's like there's a whole group of people inside my mind sitting at a round table and they are all parts of me. One by one they climb up onto the table in an attempt to dominate my thoughts and drown the others out. But it doesn't work. Someone drags them down and another clamors to be heard above the throng.

In the end I'll get things as sorted out as I can. I know the choice I have to make, but all those other parts of me are still rebelling over it. They all want to be right, they all have their evidence, it's like there are fucking lobbyists in my mind! *snort*

Oh how my INFPness gets on my nerve sometimes.

I ran away from home!

After reading my last post I realised I forgot the "life-wise" part! *snort*

Life is not bad. Busy, random, too slow and WAY too fast all at the same time. My life is good all things considered.

I did run away from home last week, which turned into one entertaining trip. Well, to be more specific Chris and I BOTH ran away from Auckland, in hopes of enjoying the sunshine that decided to grace us with it's presence after the 2 weeks of gray hell. I guess it had been on vacation too. *wink*

We left the computer/internet at home and went to Coromandel....and stayed in Coromandel Town. Now I really should have known from the name that it might be one of those "exists just for tourists" towns, but I read about the history of the town and so figured it wouldn't be too bad, right?

Wrong! Granted, we got a good deal at the place we stayed, but the town? Can I just say that $27 for a main dish at an average place anywhere in NZ outside of Auckland is absolutely ridiculous. Seriously, they should rethink their prices. How do "locals" afford to eat there? There were a few cafes with a bit better prices, but still pretty much Auckland prices... The grocery store was a little 4Square with prices higher than what I pay here, but I expected that as well. After having an interesting dinner at the fish and chips shop that charged a price I'd have never paid for a chicken burger had I any other food choice, we ended up picking up brown rice, broccoli, and a lentil dhal at the 4Square to cook in our room for dinner, kicked back on the bed, and enjoyed the movie channel. I think that was the first time we've watched TV in months.

When we set out for Coromandel Town we didn't know exactly what to expect having never been there, but we did know we wanted to make a day trip of Wednesday to see the other side of the peninsula. We arrived Tuesday night and came back to Auckland on Thursday, so that really only gave us the one day to explore, plus, rain was in the forecast for Thursday night and Friday, not the best driving/exploring conditions, so that helped to keep our trip really short. Unfortunately, when we wet out on Wednesday to follow the road through the mountains, we ran into a problem--a "Road Closed" sign to be exact! After a quick moment consulting the map we saw there was one more route to the other side, a bit longer than the first, but still not too bad. So we turned around and sought out the other road over the mountains. Just when we thought it would be smooth sailing we ran into a big construction crew that was stopping traffic because one side of the road was closed, so the other side (one lane mind you) had to be used for traffic in both directions (something I've noticed in NZ a lot). Seeing the long line of traffic waiting to be let through and not knowing how long the construction would last for, I looked at Chris and said "I think this is a sign we're meant to stay at the motel and chill for the day. There will be no going over the mountains!" And that's how we ended up in our room for the afternoon/evening.

In the end nothing went to plan, and I got annoyed, but then reminded myself that we were being spontaneous, plans often never go by the book, and that's okay, there's no one here to yell at me for it. Chris and I both help each other laugh it off. It's good. Living with Chris helps me feel less like I have to obsess and manage every little thing all the time. Old habits die hard, but they are dying, and I feel a little less weighed down by the day. I have to remember my "wabi-sabi" mantra!

But something tells me this is just a shadow of things to come if we plan a trip to the South Island. Not to mention Chris says the roads are even scarier down there, and I thought that driving on sea and mountain roads without a foot of road for a shoulder was scary enough!

How a perfectionist came to know wabi-sabi

I'm a perfectionist. I think I inherited it from my mother. Looking back I can see it in her frustration at not being able to keep a spotless house with 3 children running around all day, in her agitation at not being on time for something, in the way she would purse her lips and sigh when walking into my bedroom (aka "the disaster area"). Somehow it infected me at a young age, I remember coloring a picture as a child and being so mad with myself when I colored outside the lines that I would immediately flip to another page in the coloring book and start again. If only perfection were as easy to obtain as we get older...but it isn't. The constant pursuit of said perfection in this world is a recipe for insanity and in my teens it was something that made large portions of my life a living hell. I felt the need to control everything, because without control over something I couldn't make it perfect, and if it couldn't be perfect then what was the point in fucking with it to begin with?

Clearly something had to change, but how? I went through the rest of my teens still trying to make everything do exactly what I wanted, and panicking over everything that didn't fall neatly into place. I think my Christian background didn't help the matter any. I felt like I had to keep track of every wrong so I could ask forgiveness for it, keep a close watch on everything I did and said, and felt the weight not only of my own imperfections but the imperfections of everyone around me. Sure, I was told that it was okay to be imperfect because only Jesus could be a perfect human, but it all just felt so wrong to me.

Right before I turned 21 the world I was trying to juggle fell apart. I'm not going to repeat it here, but it was big, scary, and the effects of those months shoved me into a deep depression, worse than any I had dealt with before. Coming out of it was long and hard and along with the perfectionistic streak still whipping my ass I got the bonus of panic attacks! Such fun! And yet, during that time I felt something struggling to be left behind--the religion I was raised in. Through studying different religions and in specific the goddess traditions in paganism I learned something that Christianity failed to teach me. That this world is of our own creation. Within us all is divinity and we each day create the lives we live. They are not always ideal, they are not all a bed of roses, there are struggles we all face, but at the end of the day they are what they are, and there is completeness in them. I realised for the first time that it was okay to not have an absolute answer for everything, some things can only be known in time, and some things will in all honesty elude us for a lifetime. I learned a lot of other things, but that will come in later posts I'm sure.

While studying Japanese concepts I first learned about wabi-sabi, but it didn't sink in fully until about a year later. I was talking with Chris (the one I'm married to now) and had said something I can't recall now and Chris's response to it was something about how wabi-sabi my outlook was. Intrigued I looked into it further and the changes in my perfectionism finally clicked. One of the most valuable things I had learned was to appreciate the beauty in everything around me and that "imperfections" are often the very thing that make something so beautiful. Think of all the beauty we'd miss if everything was flawless. Beauty is fleeting, everchanging, and rarely ever perfect in the eyes of everyone, and that's okay. And in that new concept of beauty I was able to finally breathe, relax, and take a step back from the obessive pursuit of perfectionism.

Yes, there are still days when I obsess because the bathroom is a mess, the laundry pile I just folded has fallen over and I haven't gotten to everything on my to-do list. But then sparkling sunlight playing off a flower just past its "prime"catches my eye and everything pauses around me as I grab the camera to capture the perfect wabi-sabi moment happening right before my eyes.

5 Fears and Dreams

5 Fears and Dreams

If you know me well, average, or not at all, this is for you. Post 5 fears then 5 dreams of yours and let me know when you post them so I can read!

5 Fears

1. Driving. I know, sounds crazy, but it's true! Driving scares me. It has taken me years but I think I've finally come to the root of it--I can't control the other cars. I don't worry about my own driving so much as I worry about all the other people on the road, doing stupid things, driving drunk, or high, swerving into my lane, changing lanes without signaling, cutting me off, etc... Since I can't control everything in that environment I don't feel safe, and when I don't feel safe I panic...which leads me to my second fear...

2. Panic attacks. I have them on occasion, wish I didn't. My fear is having one in public and not being able to get to a "safe zone" before I come unraveled. Odds are most people that know me have been around me on the verge or right smack dab in the middle of a panic attack, and never realised it. I'm good at hiding them and controlling them, but I can only hold it all in for so long them I have to decompress, and I prefer to do that in private. A "safe zone" can be a person, or place, something familiar where I can control what is around me enough to breathe again. Makes life interesting for sure!

3. Loving and losing. I fear allowing myself to become attached to something, someplace, or someone because all too often once I become attached and allow myself to believe it is truly there, it goes away, mostly from someone taking it away. I can't trust that things will be there tomorrow, especially when that thing is something really good in my life. I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. So I live in the moment fearing the future because experience has taught me that when I really, truly connect with and love something it leaves or gets taken away. Now, that doesn't stop me from becoming attached (unfortunately I'm too feelings oriented to manage that), I am deeply attached to people, places, and things in my life. But when they go away it leaves a gaping wound in me that I grieve over and have to find a way to heal. I really think a lot of people have this fear but pretend they don't.

4. Claustrophobia. Whether by walls in a small room, or people in a crowded store, I fear being closed in. I've read that it is a phobia that can be inherited, and since I know several people in my family with the same issue I don't doubt that it is. Even really tight clothing can bring on the suffocating feeling. I'll still go to malls, go into a walk in freezer, get on elevators, and all those things because I refuse to live by my own limitations, but every now and then I misjudge whether I'll be okay with something and attempt something my inner self wasn't prepared for and BAM, panic attack. Meh.

5. Limitations. My biggest fear by far is being limited by my fears to the point I become a hermit one day. I have far more fears than listed here (and anyone who knows me can name a few of them I bet!) So I cry, bite my nails, breathe deeply, and suffer through panic attacks in order to keep that from happening. I make myself capture bugs and put them outside instead of killing them (all the while chanting "eww, eww, eww"), I stand at lookout areas and remind myself to not look down and everything will be okay (and I hopefully won't get vertigo), I love things with every fibre of by being even though I think they're gonna go away (because what is life without love?), I go to dinners and meet strangers all the while freaking out in my head (social anxiety), all in an effort to keep from living my biggest fear of all. In that respect I think this particular fear is a healthy thing, it keeps me doing as many things as possible.

Now for the happy good thing! 5 Dreams

1. I dream of being a counselor/therapist. Whether that is as a life coach, or sex therapist, or psychologist, or relationship counselor, I dream of helping people through the problems they struggle with everyday. I believe that when struggling through trials in life, most of us don't need someone to "fix" the issue, we just need someone there who will hold our hand while we walk our path. We have wisdom and truth within us to face our problems, we just sometimes need someone to remind us to trust in ourselves, breathe, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. Listening to others problems and talking through their worries and frustrations is second nature to me, so I really feel I'm meant to use that gift in a way that benefits others.

2. I dream of home. Of having my things around me, my people around me, of having a place that I can call home that I feel settled in. Doesn't mean I have to stay there forever, I think really "home" is just a state of heart/soul. I'm closer than I've ever been, so I think that the rest of the pieces will eventually fall in place until it all resonates within and without. I have an emotional/spiritual place that feels like home, now I'm looking for a physical space that I can call my own....and put earth friendly, non-latex paint on the walls!!!

3. I dream about the future and living my life to the fullest. I wonder who I'll be as I get older, what profession I'll be pursuing, what country I'll be living in, who I'll have around me. I dream of living way past what most people do, of being that crazy aunt and eventually great aunt that has so many stories to tell and those bits of wisdom that make things click. I wonder if we'll adopt a child and if I'll be a mother, if I'll be a grandmother. I want to be one of those people that makes 50 look like the new 30 and 90 look like the new 50. LOL!!! I'm bound and determined to make sure those that I love see that time as well. I want to have lots of friends around me that tell stories of all the things I got up to when I was younger.

4. I dream strange dreams. Some are really vivid, others are just impressions. Some are premonitions and come true, others haven't come true yet but I know they will. Some I wake up laughing about, others people wake me out of because I'm screaming and crying. I know some people have very calm dream lives, but I'm not one of them! Often times I can't remember my dreams when I wake up, but I'll get flashes of them later that stir my memory and they come flooding back. I dream of places or events and when they happen I get that strong rush of deja vu and know that I've been there before...just maybe not physically. On occasion I have dreams about people that I feel I have to tell them about...and I hate that because they are usually warnings and it just makes everyone uncomfortable in general.

5. I dream of better days for those around me, whether they be friends or people I don't know who are affected by tragedies half a world away. I dream of progress being made in politics, religion and the global consciousness so that we affect a positive change in the world around us and ease some of the pain that others are in every day. I suppose that's the ultimate dream for an idealist type--to live in an ideal world. But I don't think an ideal world means no pain and has to be perfection and roses and sunshine everyday. There is startling beauty in the imperfection of many things in life...and it is by working through things that we learn to appreciate that beauty. I just dream that we all will one day be a helping hand to one another in an effort towards unification of humanity in general. We all have more in common than we like to think...and we can all do things that make a world of difference in the lives of those around us, if we only open our eyes and look for the opportunity.

Sweet! That's done...now it's YOUR turn!