On the Periphery

I have never truly felt like I belonged. For as long as I can remember, I have always been conscious of the fact that I tend to hover around the periphery of the social groups to which I belong. Be it work, or school, or extracurricular and to some extent even my own family (in larger gatherings), I have never felt completely secure.

To others who know me, this may sound absolutely and utterly unfounded, but to me, who is experiencing my own life in the first person, the gap exists, and it is very real. There have been rare moments where I do feel the intense unconditional acceptance, and I nearly buckle at the knees because the feeling is overwhelming.

But for now, I stand back, and begin to question why I feel this way:

The fact that it is present in all circles in my life tells me that it is not something that is unique to a specific group. This also reveals to me that this has everything to do with me, and nothing to do with other people, or group dynamics. I am obviously, unintentially, the catalyst.

I think who we are deep inside, and who we present to the outer world are very different people, and we tend to try to bury the characteristics we don’t want to display. But every now and then, the soil of our existence erodes, and our true selves sneak back up for air. It is this self that may be responsible for my feelings of marginality.

I can trace this feeling back to grade school. I was never one of the popular kids, yet also never on the loner end of the spectrum either. Always hovering somewhere between the two. I was never athletic, and never had any interest to be, so was usually chosen last for team sports in gym, a stigma that stings to this day. Knowing that you weren’t wanted by either side, but had to be settled upon eventually, can be a very demeaning feeling, especially to a 10 year old.

You never really lose, or shed the core of who you’ve always been. Formerly obese people, who have kept weight off for years, tell me that they still see the overweight person they once were. It never really goes away. In a sense, it is part of who we were, are and will be in the future, even if it is hidden. So it sticks to us, an adhesive attribute, not easily flung off with a flick of the wrist. And we must resign ourselves to accept this, for we cannot reject parts of who we are and retain others. The entire package is ours for life – not to be divided as suits our mood.

Ultimately, no matter how confident and self-assured I may appear outwardly, I am still deathly afraid of rejection or ridicule, at any level. And this may be why I am reluctant to place myself unsolicited into the middle of many social situations. My comfort level has never been there. So I spend my time lingering just outside, contributing when I feel it’s safe, and occasionally venturing into that zone of discomfort, pushing my internal envelope, even though it terrifies me. But the terror belongs to me, and I can harness it. I guess that’s the first step. And at least I have taken it.

A Defining Moment

I have recently been told that I am a completely different person than I used to be. And though I know it pained the bearer of this news, and the method in which it was delivered was far from tactful and diplomatic, it gave me a small sense of satisfaction, because it reinforced my view of who I am, and who I have become.

I have been on a lifelong search for contentment in self. I believe this search is ongoing, and we constantly reinvent and renew who we are over the years.

Seven years ago, I found a new niche: in running. It has evolved from the occasional 2-mile, barely exerting myself, run every couple of days, to the extreme of logging up to 40 miles a week training for marathons.

I know there are people in my social circle who strive to understand this passion I have embraced, and regardless, accept me for who I am, no matter what I do. Others have not been as understanding, and have questioned, criticized and disregarded its importance in my life.

This latter group is smaller, and I feel sorry for the limited understanding they have. This is why I have become more accepting and receptive to others’ choices and interests. To stay open, to try to see through other people’s eyes is an ongoing test, and I just hope that those people who don’t understand me will someday find it in themselves to try. Running has become one of my definitions, but it is not, nor ever will be my only one. I think that is what some other people cannot or will not distinguish. For this they are truly missing out.

Perhaps one day, they will see and feel what I do: the challenge in every steep hill I pass, the endless tranquility of a leaf covered trail, the sounds of my breath and the feel of my heart beating in my chest, the triumph of crossing the finish line of my first, and subsequent, marathon, the achievement of breaking a personal record on a training run, the beauty in a sweat soaked body bent over with exertion, the pleasure in the pain of exhausted muscles, the smell of new running shoes just out of the box and ready to run, the need to do it over and over again, because in the end it just feels good.

I know I have not stopped evolving, and I sincerely hope I don’t ever stop. I think it is essential to who I am as a person, and who I continue to become. And although I won’t force my decision onto anyone else, neither will I apologize for these choices, or the way in which I have opted to live my life. The clarity and simplicity in which I approach things now is refreshing and I don’t ever want to lose that. It is for this very reason that I won’t.

Questioning that which cannot be questioned

There are things we experience that we cannot explain, and that, even if we could, others could never understand. Emotions take hold of us, turn us inside out, and spit us into a fumbling mess that only makes sense to one person.

My mess is also my bliss. The melding of two separate individuals into a single entity, for a brief moment in time, is completely irrational and unexplainable, and as I type this, I wonder why I am even bothering to try.

Maybe because I have been moved beyond words. That my heart has stood absolutely still. That my world has faded into the background. These moments are so few and so far between that it hurts to have them spoiled by exterior forces. So I block that out, and focus only on the now, because my now is so rare. And my moments are continually counting down.

There are scientific and biological explanations for what one feels, but when you are in the middle of the fray, it is difficult to put any distance between yourself, and what you are feeling, even if it is explained in the form of hormones and genes. Emotions cannot be measured by any logical or systematic method, simply because they are not logical or systematic.

And I still attempt to explain the unexplainable.

So I will concede failure. And with it, revel in what I feel, not knowing how long it will last, how strong it will stay, or how infallible it will remain. But it is inside me right here, right now. That is what I know. At the moment, it is all I want to know. I cannot change the past, I cannot influence the future, but I can be in the present. And I am.

I have explained nothing, but at the same time, I have explained everything.

Doing what I do…but not the best…

I am not a mind-reader…

I guess there are times when people just assume that I am. I am human. I make mistakes. I lose track of time. I become oblivious. More so when I am preoccupied. I think I’d be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn’t experience this once in a while. So I just have to hope that others file this information away, and understand that this is who I am…and who most people are or have been at one point or another. Sometimes I just need to be told what others are thinking and feeling. It is much easier that way than constantly guessing.

With so much going on in my life, my mind and, of late, my heart, I just cannot be everything to everyone. So I am not. And I don’t profess to be. I learned this a long time ago, and in the recent past it has been reiterated. So if people think I am selfish or uncaring, I cannot change that. The same way that I cannot change something that has already happened. So I must be content with mistakes I have made, learn from them and move on.

So I continue on this wonky path, knowing that somewhere along the way, and at many times, I will probably say or do the wrong thing, and not even know it. For this I apologize in advance. It’s all I can do.

Putting it all into Perspective

Why is it that death has it own macabre way of slapping us in the face and telling us to smarten up? And why do we continue to only pay attention for a scant few days before reverting back to our mundane, presupposed lives? Are we so stupid, or perhaps so self-absorbed, that we assume we are above these teachings?

If every person who vowed to change after being touched by death actually followed through we would have completely different dynamic on this earth. As memories fade, so do those good intentions. It’s not that we are blatantly ignoring these “best laid plans”, but despite death, life gets in the way.

That said, I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing; one thing that is repeated over and over when one is faced with a passing is that “Life goes on”. Most certainly death would win us over if we completely stopped living and let the darkness we feel consume us, but it also wins if we continually ignore its messages.

So what is its message? It differs for each person. For one it may mean mending fences with estranged relatives. For another it means signing up for wind surfing lessons after countless summers of intending just that. And for still another it may mean to travel more.

Unfortunately, as much as I would like to, I just can’t drop everything to travel the world before I die, because in my case, life does get in the way – bills must be paid, children must be educated and cared for, and shelter must be maintained. But I have realized that I can change in small ways, and remember to live my life to the fullest I possibly can each and every day. To close my eyes at night knowing that if did not wake up, people around me would know how I felt. I do admit I slip up from time to time. I am, after all, human. I have found, however, the more I make myself aware of this path, the easier it is to follow. Also, like any habit, it requires continual maintenance to form; following through with intentions is no different.

But at the end of the day, for me, it means to never forget, or take for granted, those who are close to me. To tell the people I care about, how I feel, often enough so that they know and remember, and to follow my heart and the dreams within. So I say this now, to those of you who hold that special place in my life, “Thank you for being in my life, for making me laugh and smile, for caring about my well being, for running each mile with me, and most of all, for loving me just because I am me.”

One Year Ago...

It is said, and reiterated by many, that it takes at least one year for a person to adjust to major life changes, be it a death in the family, a job transformation, a move or a change in a relationship; break-up, separation or divorce. This is because you have to undergo a full year’s worth of birthdays, celebrations and holidays to experience all the milestones that mark the passing of time, and then establish new memories and traditions.

I hit the one year mark this week. It has been an insightful year. It has had its sad moments, but most of all, it has been a year of renewal, reinvention and rebirth. I look back on the past year’s events with an open mind, and wonder who that person was who started this journey way back then. I reflect on the last year…

This is what I learned:
I have adjusted. I have healed. I have moved on. I have let go of guilt. I have embraced change. New perspectives are always around the corner. I have found new friends. I have rekindled old friendships. My family is my rock. I have learned to smile and laugh more. I like smiling and laughing. I have released my regrets. Life is too short to dwell on the past for very long. I value time. It’s OK to be selfish every now and then. Beer and gin can be considered food groups. Taking time for me makes me a better friend and mother to those close to me. The writer in me never really went away. I missed her. I need to feel. I crave creative outlets. Many of them. I require physical outlets. Many of them. Cancer sucks. I have found the balance I was missing. My children are more important than a clean apartment. Jumping on a trampoline can be liberating. So can laying there watching the stars. I am full of surprises. Sometimes things are easy. Sometimes things are just worth waiting for. I am patient. Time spent worrying is time well wasted. I like myself (a lot). Others like me too. I can be happy again. I am.

I am happy…

Forward Looking

Do you ever fear that your anticipation of an event will overshadow the event itself? I firmly believe that if we had nothing to look forward to our lives would be pretty bleak. That may explain why religion can play such an important role in some people’s lives. Knowing that life has not been lived for naught, that there is a higher destiny waiting, tends to propel some people through their lives.

I am not a religious person – spiritual yes, religious, no. I don’t look to the end of my life thinking that redemption waits. But I do look to the end of each day, and hope that I can close my eyes at night, content with how I’ve handled myself. I try to stay optimistic – to begin each day with deep breaths and picture it playing out. I treat each day as an entity in and of itself. Breaking down life into these tiny segments makes it easier to stay on the positive side of things. Even though I know I will eventually lose my job, I still arrive at work fresh and believe that if I approach it in this manner that good things will happen. I guess it doesn’t matter what it is you look forward to, as long as you are looking ahead.

But getting back to the initial question…Can over-anticipation leave to disappointment? We’ve all been let down by things not playing out as we’d hoped. There’s a song by the band Yes called “Aim Low – Shoot High”. I think to not be disappointed in your life this should be a consideration. But how low does one have to aim to ensure you will hit the mark? And that may be the crux of my question…Lower your expectations and your disappointment level should follow proportionately. It is so easy to lecture this, and I have been just as guilty of having my excitement over an upcoming event eclipse the experience itself.

That was also when I viewed life in a different manner than I do today. Today, I keep my options open. I tend to feel that no matter what happens down the road, it will have been for a reason. Each person I meet, each decision I make, each day I wake, holds new possibilities for this writer. I am open to whatever life deals me. Accepting the consequences of those choices is also part of the process. I would rather be looking ahead, and not be as concerned with disappointment, than regretting what has already gone. For me, looking forward is not an option, it is a conscious choice, no matter what the outcome.