Healing Grace

Big doings in the old town tonight. The author of my biography has completed the last edit and sent in the corrections. The book now goes to print. Since she wrote the book ten years have passed. What was she waiting for? Who knows? Definitely not her.

The book is called Healing Grace written by Jill Luigs. Jill wanted to write the book because my story's similar to hers. There's a big difference in our stories though. She got divorced. The biggest similarity is that we both gave our lives over to men. We both sacrificed ourselves for men. We both blamed them for years until after leaving them, we both discovered that our propensities for martyrdom was still prolific. We still found our beliefs holding us back -- we were undeserving of anything more. We had to sacrifice to make up for the oxygen we used. That's how little we felt about ourselves, and because of that we kept sacrificing. It was easier than going deep within and discovering who we really are. It was easier because it was familiar, and then it just got hard to see what we were missing out on.

We were missing out on feeling good about ourselves. We were missing out on enjoying our lives and experiencing our new-found freedom. We were missing out on being a great friend to ourselves. Most importantly we were depriving the world of our own greatness. What a waste that was.

That's when the magic began. The magic of self-discovery. The magic of self-awareness. The magic of inner guidance rather than seeking wisdom from others. It also took many days of barely getting out of bed and endless nights of tears. You have no idea what wailing and gnashing of teeth was really like until you saw the two of us go through our own metamorphoses. The term "dark night of the soul" had been coined because of our own experiences. As Jill put it, it was digging out of her own grave after years of shoveling shit into it. She told her husband back then that the death us do part had happened and leaving him brought her back to life. Can I hear a thank you, Jesus???

So, the book will be published before the year is over. Jill has gone on to other endeavors and you'll be able to read about my life in Healing Grace. Ten years have passed since the ending of the book, so just know that a lot's happened since. Maybe I can talk Jill into a sequel so she can tell the other part of my story. The part where I took the level of freedom to new heights. It would be well worth the read.

To delete or not to delete --

I've written and rewritten this post. I've sweated bullets over it. What do I say? I always feel like I'm being auditioned here. But who exactly is the one auditioning me? I'm sitting alone on my couch at 2:26 in the morning. I see no one. All the lights are off in the square. It's the most silent it ever gets around here at this time of the year especially when softball has kicked into gear and the fans are roaring and the lights are blaring. It's a very early Sunday morning, and there's not a peep around here, not a flicker in a window. It is silent and motionless.

I'm still writing and deleting like crazy. I think of something to say, then decide I don't want to keep it, pressing the backspace button to wipe it clean again. I love that. Really, wouldn't it be so great to delete anything else in your life that easily? Credit card debt. Delete. Dirty clothes. Delete. Dog poo. Delete.

I've been flipping through the channels while typing and deleting when I finally hit upon a winner -- No Way Out with Kevin Costner. Dear God, Kevin looks like he must be 19 years old and 5" wide. I love how men add a thickness to themselves as they age. I like the fuller faces, the wider waists and flat stomachs. Give them a touch of gray at their temples and a few lines at the corner of their eyes, and I'm a happy girl. Slip one under me and I'm even happier.

Now that statement makes me sound like I'm pretty loose. The fact of the matter is that I'm the farthest from being loose. I'm in a small town that has binoculars on anything loose, and I steer clear of that. When I left my husband ten years ago, you would've thought I killed someone, lied about it, covered it up, and then killed all those who suspected me. Okay, so I'm exaggerating a little, but this town's a lot like living in a fishbowl. If you don't want to be found out, then don't do it in Langsberry.

It's now 3:17 in the morning and finally my eyelids are getting heavy. Not even Kevin Costner can keep them up. Now, maybe if it was the Kevin in For Love of the Game or even Upside of Anger, but get him any younger than that and I'm not nearly as interested. I want a man of substance.

So, I'm going to get this posted before I decide to delete it. I'm too tired to keep rewriting. This has got to do. I'm letting go of the idea that this could lead to a Pulitzer or at least a great audition.

Welcome to Langsberry!

It's the town where everyone wants to go, located in the midst of the Rocky Mountains. The downtown is the square that wraps around a softball field. Go figure...

What kind of town memorializes their town with a softball field? And what was the draw for me? I'm going to claim ignorance, innocence, dumb blindness.

I came here as a young pup still in college, wanting to belong to a family -- any family apparently because I jumped into one that was the most difficult I could've conceived of, if only I thought about it at the time. Unfortunately, I wasn't thinking.

I showed up as a young college girl who'd been orphaned for two years, blindsided by a good-looking man who gave me attention, and made me feel like I could belong to a family again. Little did I know that the family I would belong to had nothing to do with him or his own family. Instead I became a family member of Langsberry, of the women in this town. I became linked in, loved on, and lavished alot by the fabulous women who wrapped me up in their love.

Now, twenty plus years later, I dropped the husband and created a new family with the girls. Not that I'm not looking for a tight squeeze with a wonderful man. I just haven't located the right one yet. I'm still learning how to be the right one myself. Once I get a grip on that one, then maybe, just maybe I'll be ready for the right one. And who knows, it could still be my husband.

Let's just say that I'm not holding my breath.