Balance

Stumbling my way through life, I'm doing my best to find balance. There are days when my work schedule gets so grueling and the kids have so many obligations that I get exhausted and discouraged. I feel like I'm working just to pay bills and die. I'm working to afford a life that's slowly passing me by because I'm too busy to be an active participant in it. It's like being an onlooker amid my own existence. It shouldn't feel that way. I recently read a quote that says "You can't pour from an empty cup. Take care of yourself first". I'm trying to do this for both myself and my family.

In my line of work, I meet many ladies. The atmosphere in the way I work with clients is a bit different than hair stylists, nail techs, etc. I first make them lie down -- (reminiscent of a therapy session), take away their phones, and then their eyesight. One of two things will happen; we will talk or they will sleep. More often than not, they open up. The conversations I have had with clients have spanned from casual to deeply personal. They've shared things with me I doubt they've said to their closest confidant and I've temporarily lost myself and said things I should've never divulged to a client. My professionalism is present in the pride in my work and doing what I say I will, (within reason), but I am human and sometimes I blur the lines when clients begin to feel like friends. I can usually assess who can handle the truth that I don't exist only within those walls and sometimes outside of them I occasionally want to strangle my husband or secretly loathe another mother at my kids' school. When I can get that rapport with someone, beautiful things can happen. When it does, it didn't feel like work, I enjoyed an hour of conversation that felt like it should've happened over a glass of wine. Other girls in the industry have mentioned that they have clients who come in and say they come 1/2 for the lashes and 1/2 for the conversation.

Each client is very different and has a story all her own. Each one is from different walks of life, have different backgrounds, careers, experiences, beliefs, hopes, fears, and dreams. I get a new perspective on just about everything every single day and it's weird what sticks out to me. Lately, I've realized my family and I don't take enough vacations. My clients are frequently leaving and coming back from trips. It's not from a place of judgement but I notice they've been on three vacations this year and I haven't been anywhere since a quickie, single-day, trip to Hot Springs at the beginning of the year. I think they're onto something. I don't think the destinations even need to be somewhere particularly exotic. I think you just have to schedule some time every few months to get out of town and recharge.

I have a client who survived breast cancer. She now travels the world. She has beautifully worded how she sees it differently now. In her words, "If not now, when?". Did I survive breast cancer? No. Do I completely understand her meaning? Yes. She just reiterated what I already know; live today because you aren't guaranteed tomorrow. I told her I wanted to travel like that, she said "Then make it work".

I listen to the tales of amazing trips taken to coveted destinations but also of hidden little treasures tucked away in a nowhere town you'd only know about through word of mouth. I began to ask myself what these woman know that I don't about finding this balance; this intricate dance of work and play.

That's how the Breckenridge Christmas trip came to be. I had several clients taking trips like this and I always just assumed it was something I could only hear about and not experience for myself. But the bigger questions is, why did I think that way? I should've been googling resorts instead of assuming. I decided the way I think had to change. I had to first change how I fear closing down at work for a few days and I had to change thinking certain experiences aren't in the cards for me. Why didn't it dawn on me sooner to plan? Strategize? Or is this just me....growing up? If a trip is crazy expensive, than the plan is that we eat out one or two times less that week and the money goes into savings. If we do that for several months leading up to the trip and then go have an amazing trip we'll remember forever, did we really "miss" those dinners out? One more slightly edited quote, "At your funeral, is anyone going to get up and say 'She had a really expensive couch and great purses"? No.... But they might say, "She traveled. She lived. She was happy".

So there's us, living and waiting till Christmas. Watching videos of the sleigh ride we're going to take the kids on and getting so excited but...... that's still a ways off. I told Jason I don't want to miss the leaves turning in the Ozarks in fall this year. In that moment, a trip I would've considered and quickly vetoed out of dread of doing the work to make it happen became a trip I decided to make happen. I decided we'll go to Eureka Springs to enjoy the beauty of our homeland and make it extra fun by staying at the Crescent Hotel. The kids have been youtubing videos and coming up to me with huge eyes and asking "Mom, is it REALLY haunted?". I just shrug and say "Maybe it is and maybe it isn't". Their faces light up with excitment. Absolutely the best idea ever!
It's amazing how just one little mini-getaway will get me through to a big getaway. My mood is better, I have something to look forward to that's in the near future. I feel really responsbile and in control of my own happiness. I am taking control of my life. There's something to these little time outs!

The little trip to Eureka doesn't have to be extravagant. I just want to see the beauty of the hills, slow the pace down for a couple of days, and watch my kids experience The Crescent. I won't make obligations to meet up with friends or family who really don't care if they see me or my kids or not, so why bother? Why add the headache. Admitting no one gives a crap is the most freeing thing I ever did! I swear! Then, in December, I get to experience something completely foreign and stunning WITH them. I'm guessing it's going to outdo any purse I ever bought.

I'm a planner now. I plan longterm and divide what I could take from today to put into tomorrow. I am so thankful for these lessons I've learned from the women I interact with daily. I love their tales of travel but I don't want to just hear about them anymore. I want to live them for myself. I have taken a cue from them and realized they are taking time out and if they can, I can.

In fact, I see most everything that way now. If anyone can, I can. I can travel and I can expand my career. I just have to slowly and methodically plan. Slow and steady wins the race. I'm storing my nuts, that's all. I owe my family a nice life. I also owe myself breaks so I can continue to give that to them without doing it with underlying bitterness. Don't be mislead, I'm still an angry little troll, stuck in rushhour traffic but in between my profanity-ladened tirades, I take a breath and picture myself looking out onto the beautifully-colored hills of the Ozarks in just a few more weeks. It's then that the tension eases and I might even break and allow a car with their blinker on over into my lane. That's balance. I deserve it. We all do.

Two Years

I can’t tell you the last time I blogged. I guess I either lost a passion for it or I’ve just gotten too busy.  With hell week here and a day off to gather my thoughts, let’s see what falls out, shall we? Hell week is what mom and I refer to as the week we celebrate Ryan’s birthday and then the anniversary of his passing a week later. It is filled with memories, tears, and a time to reflect on the distance we’ve put between ourselves and 2 years ago as we stood in a hospital unable to wrap out brains and hearts around what had just happened. I do weird things like look at the last post or selfie before Ryan died. I look at myself and try to remember who she was. I guess you could say she was naïve. I no longer recognize her. I can’t relate to her at all. She didn’t know what I know now. I guess in a way she died, too. Who stands in her place was born out of necessity. I like to think of her as Misty “A.R.” (After Ryan).

The last 2 years, mom and I have drowned ourselves in busy work. If we stay busy we’re safe. When we slow down, that’s when the pain seeps in. We’ve kept ourselves busy to the point of exhaustion. We started the foundation and I focused on building my business. Mom says when you’re busy giving, you don’t have time to be thinking about what you’re lacking. I wanted to be successful as a distraction but also because I needed to be successful to do things I realized have to be done. Because I know life is fleeting, there are places to go and memories to create before it’s my time to go. I don’t know when my time is up but I know I want to live while I’m here. To play hard you have to work hard.

There are key moments in life that change everything about you. It could be a birth, it could be a death. And sometimes out of death comes a birth. My family has had to change the way we do everything to prevent ourselves from wallowing. In fact, I’ve changed how I do things by changing the way I think about things.

This is what I know now…

My circle is small and I’m okay with that. I know the difference between an acquaintance and a friend. I know the difference between someone who listens and someone who waits to talk.

“Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.” – Josephine Hart

Just because someone is your family doesn’t mean they’ll even send you a condolence via facebook messenger or show up to the funeral.

The loss didn’t turn me into a saint. I’m colder. If you couldn’t bother to send me a kind word, don’t come looking for mine when you experience your tragedy. And you will, eventually. I know it hurts, you don’t have to tell me. My compassion is engineered to meet yours. I’m not above it, make no mistake.

People will take time out for a 5 minute quiz to see which Kardashian they are but won’t type in a code when buying from Amazon to donate a profit to our charity that costs them nothing. You can put blood, sweat, and tears into something to unveil it to those around you all proud-like and go “TA DA!!!!!!!!” only to hear crickets. I will press forward. Strangers will support you before those closest to you.

I take the chances. Hesitation and second-guessing don’t do anything. In life, you’ll only regret the chances you didn’t take. For years I saw people accomplishing things I admired and wondered what they knew that I didn’t. I don’t think they knew any more than I did; they just did the work. A dream, a plan, a strong work ethic, and a leap.

I no longer play the “maybe I’ll do that or go there someday” game. No…. I’ll go this year. I’ll get a new Rubbermaid tub and put a new fund into to make that memory. When I’m gone, those who love me will always have that.

  

I don’t hang around in situations that make me miserable. Whether it’s a person or an experience that’s making me feel that way, I eliminate it. Life’s too short for unnecessary grief. I can spot an unhappy person from a mile away. I have my own demons. I won’t bear the burden of anyone else’s.

I don’t need validation. I don’t need you to think I’m pretty, skinny, smart, or successful. Why? ‘Cause who gives a shit, that’s why.

I can make it through days now without tears. Then again, sometimes I will be doing something as mundane as driving home from work or folding laundry and bust out into tears. There’s no rhyme or reason to the outburst. They come when they come. Some days 2 years feels like 2 years. Some days it feels like yesterday. This is just where I am now. In some ways I’m better, in some ways I’m icier, in some ways I’m more giving, in some ways I’m more selfish. It depends on the day. It’s just how I’ve evolved. I had to find my place in a world without Ryan. I’ve had relationships destroyed and new ones take their place. I wonder how he would’ve dealt with all the things mom and I have had to deal with since he died. Had the shoe been on the other foot and it would’ve been me, how would he have handled it? Would he have been more graceful and diplomatic? Would have grieved as hard? Would he have made scenes and become a completely different person like me? I think he would’ve snapped a little just like we did. Those questions can’t be answered and he’s not here to reassure me or tell me where I made a misstep. I feel like if he could come back for just one day he’d most certainly ask, “Where’s my sister? Did she live through it!?!?”

I try to picture Ryan’s reaction if Jason and I both died and he came to collect my things and people I’d known a few months got there first and he had to badger them to hand over my phone, house keys, wallet, laptop, and had already cleaned out all my personal possessions because they assumed he didn't have a relationship with me. I have a pretty good idea of what would’ve happened. I knew an entire life. They didn’t even know a full year and assumed such a bold role. Experiencing that loss and then seeing posted pictures flipping us off and calling us vermin, there are just no words for. I still see tagged things of them and wonder how anyone could associate with someone who would do that to a grieving family. I guess it doesn’t really matter now, though…. It’s over even though it will haunt me forever. I guess I’m not above that, either.

I have to go on. Misty “A.R.” is still evolving but I wish he could meet her. These two years have been hell; a hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I still pass his guitars and strum them with my fingertips. I still agonize that he won’t see my kids grow up.

Yes, 2 years. 2 years since my world came to a halt. 2 years since I realized nothing is certain except one thing; you control nothing. Am I better? No. I’m just different. I can now answer the question “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” without a lump in my throat. He’s still in everything I do. The truest quote I’ve ever read is this: “It’s been said ‘time heals all wounds’. I do not agree. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” – Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy.

Two Years

I can’t tell you the last time I blogged. I guess I either lost a passion for it or I’ve just gotten too busy.  With hell week here and a day off to gather my thoughts, let’s see what falls out, shall we? Hell week is what mom and I refer to as the week we celebrate Ryan’s birthday and then the anniversary of his passing a week later. It is filled with memories, tears, and a time to reflect on the distance we’ve put between ourselves and 2 years ago as we stood in a hospital unable to wrap out brains and hearts around what had just happened. I do weird things like look at the last post or selfie before Ryan died. I look at myself and try to remember who she was. I guess you could say she was naïve. I no longer recognize her. I can’t relate to her at all. She didn’t know what I know now. I guess in a way she died, too. Who stands in her place was born out of necessity. I like to think of her as Misty “A.R.” (After Ryan).

The last 2 years, mom and I have drowned ourselves in busy work. If we stay busy we’re safe. When we slow down, that’s when the pain seeps in. We’ve kept ourselves busy to the point of exhaustion. We started the foundation and I focused on building my business. Mom says when you’re busy giving, you don’t have time to be thinking about what you’re lacking. I wanted to be successful as a distraction but also because I needed to be successful to do things I realized have to be done. Because I know life is fleeting, there are places to go and memories to create before it’s my time to go. I don’t know when my time is up but I know I want to live while I’m here. To play hard you have to work hard.

There are key moments in life that change everything about you. It could be a birth, it could be a death. And sometimes out of death comes a birth. My family has had to change the way we do everything to prevent ourselves from wallowing. In fact, I’ve changed how I do things by changing the way I think about things.

This is what I know now…

My circle is small and I’m okay with that. I know the difference between an acquaintance and a friend. I know the difference between someone who listens and someone who waits to talk.

“Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive.” – Josephine Hart

Just because someone is your family doesn’t mean they’ll even send you a condolence via facebook messenger or show up to the funeral.

The loss didn’t turn me into a saint. I’m colder. If you couldn’t bother to send me a kind word, don’t come looking for mine when you experience your tragedy. And you will, eventually. I know it hurts, you don’t have to tell me. My compassion is engineered to meet yours. I’m not above it, make no mistake.

People will take time out for a 5 minute quiz to see which Kardashian they are but won’t type in a code when buying from Amazon to donate a profit to our charity that costs them nothing. You can put blood, sweat, and tears into something to unveil it to those around you all proud-like and go “TA DA!!!!!!!!” only to hear crickets. I will press forward. Strangers will support you before those closest to you.

I take the chances. Hesitation and second-guessing don’t do anything. In life, you’ll only regret the chances you didn’t take. For years I saw people accomplishing things I admired and wondered what they knew that I didn’t. I don’t think they knew any more than I did; they just did the work. A dream, a plan, a strong work ethic, and a leap.

I no longer play the “maybe I’ll do that or go there someday” game. No…. I’ll go this year. I’ll get a new Rubbermaid tub and put a new fund into to make that memory. When I’m gone, those who love me will always have that.

  

I don’t hang around in situations that make me miserable. Whether it’s a person or an experience that’s making me feel that way, I eliminate it. Life’s too short for unnecessary grief. I can spot an unhappy person from a mile away. I have my own demons. I won’t bear the burden of anyone else’s.

I don’t need validation. I don’t need you to think I’m pretty, skinny, smart, or successful. Why? ‘Cause who gives a shit, that’s why.

I can make it through days now without tears. Then again, sometimes I will be doing something as mundane as driving home from work or folding laundry and bust out into tears. There’s no rhyme or reason to the outburst. They come when they come. Some days 2 years feels like 2 years. Some days it feels like yesterday. This is just where I am now. In some ways I’m better, in some ways I’m icier, in some ways I’m more giving, in some ways I’m more selfish. It depends on the day. It’s just how I’ve evolved. I had to find my place in a world without Ryan. I’ve had relationships destroyed and new ones take their place. I wonder how he would’ve dealt with all the things mom and I have had to deal with since he died. Had the shoe been on the other foot and it would’ve been me, how would he have handled it? Would he have been more graceful and diplomatic? Would have grieved as hard? Would he have made scenes and become a completely different person like me? I think he would’ve snapped a little just like we did. Those questions can’t be answered and he’s not here to reassure me or tell me where I made a misstep. I feel like if he could come back for just one day he’d most certainly ask, “Where’s my sister? Did she live through it!?!?”

I try to picture Ryan’s reaction if Jason and I both died and he came to collect my things and people I’d known a few months got there first and he had to badger them to hand over my phone, house keys, wallet, laptop, and had already cleaned out all my personal possessions because they assumed he didn't have a relationship with me. I have a pretty good idea of what would’ve happened. I knew an entire life. They didn’t even know a full year and assumed such a bold role. Experiencing that loss and then seeing posted pictures flipping us off and calling us vermin, there are just no words for. I still see tagged things of them and wonder how anyone could associate with someone who would do that to a grieving family. I guess it doesn’t really matter now, though…. It’s over even though it will haunt me forever. I guess I’m not above that, either.

I have to go on. Misty “A.R.” is still evolving but I wish he could meet her. These two years have been hell; a hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I still pass his guitars and strum them with my fingertips. I still agonize that he won’t see my kids grow up.

Yes, 2 years. 2 years since my world came to a halt. 2 years since I realized nothing is certain except one thing; you control nothing. Am I better? No. I’m just different. I can now answer the question “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” without a lump in my throat. He’s still in everything I do. The truest quote I’ve ever read is this: “It’s been said ‘time heals all wounds’. I do not agree. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” – Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy.