...but I love me most

Up until a year ago, I would look at this phrase and think that by saying such a thing I would be selfish. Was this thinking from being raised in a conservative Southern Baptist church? Was it because of being a woman? Was it because this was the thinking of my mother? Was it because my pride and worth came from putting myself down and looking at others as more valuable? The answer is yes to all of these. My thinking did not happen overnight, but was fostered from years and years of living. No one was to blame, yet at some point I realized I was to blame if I let this thinking continue.

I guess you can call it a conversion experience, but it was not an experience like Paul’s on his way to Emmaus. I did not see God or an angle. My conversion experience was seeing myself; I mean truly seeing myself. For years I had been reading books and studying about the true self, the self that desperately wants to find its way to the surface. I constantly wanted to find it, yet I knew it was a process. I knew it was a process that I had to live. There were no magical steps; yet I knew at some point I would find it.

One year ago last Saturday (June 5, 2009), I found my true self. I found her by saying, but I love me most. I remember the day like it was yesterday. I was on-call at the hospital and my life literally started crumbling before my eyes. Looking back, I realize it had been crumbling for a long time. There is no use getting into the details. All I knew is that living for me meant finally saying, but I love me most. I sat in the chair in the on-call room and knew that I had not been living. I was in a relationship that was stifling me and the only way out was for me to finally start loving me. I could only think of me in that moment. I didn’t realize that the decision I was making was in essence me loving myself most. It has taken a year of living to come to that conclusion.

It has also taken a year to realize that me not loving myself most did not start in that one relationship; it had been happening my whole life. It had prevented me from letting go of my mother for the eleven years after her death. It kept my worry and anxiety high. It kept me away from the peace that I so deeply desired.

I now realize that by saying that I love me most does not mean that I am selfish. In reality, saying this means just the opposite. I have found in this last year that I am grounded in a way that allows my heart to be open to others, life, and God in a way that I have never known. I go to sleep and wake up each day with a peace that does surpass all understanding. I go through each day holding the goodness of my mother instead of being weighed down with the grief of her death. I go through each day knowing that no matter what happens in life, I love me. For me, that is what matters most.

Donkeys on Ash Wednesday

I drive to Mt Airy two days a week for work. It is about a 45 minute drive and usually I do not mind it. The drive is beautiful and it is nice alone time… or time to catch up with friends on the phone. Each day as I turn off to Mt Airy I anticipate the donkeys. There is a horse farm (at least that is what I think it is) on my left. Each day I look not at the horses but to find the two donkeys that also live there. I do not care if I see the expensive horses with their winter coats to keep them warm. I look for the two donkeys. Each day that I see them I smile and know that it is a good day.

I read this on someone’s facebook: "Forgiveness is giving up all hope of having had a better past." — Anne Lamott. I cannot think of having a better past. My past is mine. As much as I would like to change it, I can’t. My past has made me who I am today. I cannot think of the time I lost from not making the best decision in the past. For I know to think about such a thing is just wasting more time. That part of my life has already taken too much from me. I am a better person for what I have been through. I am proud of how I have handled life and how I have grown. I am proud that I put me first. I am proud that I have chosen life and not fear! Oh wow I am proud that I have chosen life and not fear.

I said on Ash Wednesday last year I wanted to give up worry and fear. I was going to give up diet coke. I decided then that God did not want my diet coke, but God wanted me to have peace in life. I now see that to do that I had to make some difficult decisions in life. I said yes to me and life this last year. That is when the messiah came for me; that is when I said yes to me. I don’t know what that theology is, but it is mine. For me Christ’s resurrection was me being resurrecting from the death I was living.

Do we all not need to be resurrected? We die to ourselves all the time. Loosing parts of who we are for other people and other things. It is when we give these things up that we are resurrected and can fully live life. This for me is the mystery in life and this is what I take with me this Ash Wednesday.

I think I know why I love the donkeys so much. They are simple animals. They are true to who they are. Yes they are on the side of the beautiful horses with their fancy winter coats, yet it does not seem to bother the donkeys. They continue to be true to themselves and live their own lives. I would be wise to live like the donkey. It is on this Ash Wednesday that I think of being true to myself through seeing the donkeys.

Ironic thing… I no longer drink diet coke J

A Christmas Blessing

Last Friday, Winston-Salem saw HUGE amounts of snow. Bythe time I had seen my last client at work, it was a little tricky getting home. The snow made it difficult to get traction at intersections. I was thankful to get home, but was worried. I was worried because I had a noon flight out of Greensboro the next day. It was time for my Christmas break and I wanted to go see my family! My sister was picking me up at the DFW airport. We were then driving straight to my grandparents in Roswell, NM.

Christmas at my grandparents is wonderful. I missed it last year and there was no way I wanted to miss it this year. My grandmother has every Christmas thing that sings and dances. The tree is perfect and there is always the decorating of Christmas cookies. As my sister pointed out, our traditions with the grandparents are the only things that are the same as they were before our mom died.

All these thoughts flooded my mind as I sat in my apartment watching it snow more and more. Everyone was rejoicing with the beauty of the snow, but I was crying a little more and more inside each time another flake fell. I did laundry and packed with the hope that I would get to keep my plans. I was not worried about the flight making it, I was worried that I would not be able to get off my street to make it to Greensboro!

I went to sleep that night, but did not sleep well. I was happy to see at 5 am, that it did not snow 10 more inches! It still looked bad, but I was hopeful this could work. By 8:30 I was up and dressed. I went to start my car so it could thaw out! A nice man shoveling the sidewalk encouraged my efforts. I even got my swiffer out to knock all the snow off my car. I got weird looks from my neighbors as I was loading my gigantic suitcase in the car.

The time came to get in the car and leave. I knew if I could get to the highway I would make my flight… getting off my street was going to be questionable for I live at the bottom of two hills. They are not big hills and I would never really even say I live at the bottom of two hills if they were not covered in snow and ice! I got in trusty Coco (2003 Corrolla). She took off!!! It was a miracle… but wait she got stuck. I put her in reverse to see if I could get more speed to hit the hill… nope it did not work. I was trying to tell myself not to cry, but all I could think about was being stuck in NC while all my family was together (yes I know it was a little dramatic).

I continued to do the forward and reverse thing for a few minutes. A truck was coming the opposite direction as I went in reverse into a pile of leaves covered by snow! I waved for the truck to go by. Instead of going by a young man got out of the truck. He walked over to the car and asked which way I was trying to go. He let me know I had gotten myself in a mess (this I did know). He then proceeded to tell me to put it in reverse and he would push at the same time. I did this, but not much happened. A woman that had been in the truck also got out and helped push my car. Once they got me straight, they got behind the car and pushed me up the hill!!! Once at the top it was all good. I easily made my way to the interstate and onto the airport. I made it to DFW that afternoon and was nice and warm at my grandparents that night.

I could not believe the compassion of these two people. I have no clue who they were. I could not stop and get names and addresses for a thank you note. These two individuals gave me hope and peace during this Christmas season. They showed in one action the meaning of Christmas that is forgotten in the materialism that now defines the season. I was blessed that day. I hope I can slow down in my daily life to help push a stranded person up a hill.

Thankful Thanksgiving

As I was driving to Charlotte to catch my flight home for thanksgiving, I was doing some thinking. Lowen & Navarro were playing in the background (a new band introduced to me that I am loving!) and the sky was absolutely amazing. I couldn’t help but smile and actually be a little giddy with the thought of how blessed I am.

I had no clue that I would be where I am today. I would have thought you were crazy if you told me I would be living in Winston-Salem working as a counselor! This is where I have landed and I am thankful for the way life happens even when we do not expect it.

One of my favorite quotes is by Rainer Maria Rilke

"I beg you...to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for answers, which could not be given you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday, far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer..."

This last year has been filled with more questions than I could ever imagine, but as I pause and reflect, I realize my life is the answer to so many of the questions. I was lost in making decisions of where to live and in the midst of the fog; the clarity of staying in Winston-Salem was undeniable. I struggled with job hunting. Out of nowhere came a dream job that I did not even know was a dream. The ending of a relationship was scary with the loss of support to which I had become accustomed. Without even looking, amazing girlfriends popped up to love me and walk with me. My supportive family loved me through every decision!

I do not think I have ever been this thankful. Life is so good and I am blessed beyond words.

Cecilia J Bigbee

Today would have been my mother’s 56^th birthday. It is hard to believe that I have not celebrated with her the last twelve birthdays. I guess she will forever be 44 in my mind. Some birthdays I reflect on mom for hours and others it is merely a passing thought. Some years are filled with tears. This year feels strangely different, different in a very good way.

Today really is a celebration of her life for me. So often I have focused on her death on her birthday, but not this year. I remember the wonderful mother she was. Like when I was in first grade. I was a very picky eater. We had forgotten to look at the school lunch menu before I went to school. I got there and it was stew (which I hated)! When mom got home she looked and saw this, so she went to Burger King and brought me lunch. It meant the world to this first grader.

My mother was also a person who took bread to the shut-ins. She talked to everyone and wanted them all to feel welcome. Fun was part of her life and she taught me how to let go and laugh. We played and were silly.

More than anything she wanted Mandy and me to be strong and independent women. She wanted us to have a college education and to be able to be on our own. I can’t help but smile to think of where we both are today. Mandy is an attorney at a school district. She just bought her own house (with a pool)! Mom is so proud, I know this.

I just started a new job… a job that I have because of mom’s death. It was through her death that I decided to go into counseling and more importantly desire to pursue the integration of religion and counseling. I have stood up and been strong in ways that I never knew were possible this year. Through it all, I can feel mom’s strength through me.

Frederick Buechner in his book Telling Secrets talks about a relationship with a person is not over when they die. The relationship changes though. This fall my relationship with mom is changing after her being gone over 11 years. Her presence is alive in me like never before.

Happy Birthday Mom!

Dreams

So it has been an incredibly long time since I have blogged... almost two years. So much has happened in two yeas that it is hard to know where to start, what to include, and what is unnecessary. I sit in my new apartment close to downtown Winston Salem. I would have never dreamed that I would be here on this day, but life has a way of surprising me. My wonderful dad says that life is learning to handle plan b... more and more I think he is right.

I moved two weeks ago and I can say that I finally have my apartment feeling like my home. Part of this process was hanging pictures on my wall. I see it as making it my own. When I graduated from seminary my dad and Peggy gave me a dream sign (with money tied to it). Since then they have proceeded to buy my things that say dream. I always like looking around my space seeing a reminder to not just go through life, but also to go after my dreams.

When I was moving from Greensboro over a year ago, my favorite dream sign broke in two. I tried to put it back together with glue, but it did not work. I kept both pieces... I don't know why. I felt the need to keep this one dream.

Needless to say the last few months many of my dreams broke. I called off a wedding and with that came the breaking of so many dreams. I know it was the best decision for me, but nonetheless, the dreams broke in two.

As I was decorating, I decided to try to put my dream back together. I used tools and forgot the glue... and before I knew it, my dream was back on my wall. I look at it everyday and it is such a visible reminder of my dreams. My new apartment is the first step in me going after my dreams once again... dreams that I do not even know about at this moment, but dreams that are deep within my soul waiting to come to the surface.

The last three months I have found parts of myself that I had lost somewhere along the way. As a great friend of mine told me it is like saying "self, welcome home."

The quilt of my life

Last night Justin and I were watching the Dallas Cowboys, but when it was certain they would win we decided to do something different… we watched home movies. That is right!!! I let him see me not only as an adorable kid, but also as the awkward middle school cheerleader. It was so much fun and we laughed so hard. Since it was a little chilly last night I got the quilt off my spare bed. After the home movies were over, I asked him if he had seen my quilt. He hadn’t so I started telling him the story.

It is a t-shirt quilt, one that my mom and I started making a few months before she died. Mom had decided that we should take all my t-shirts from high school and turn them into a quilt. I thought it was a wonderful idea so the work began. We laid out each shirt and looked at the way the rows would be formed. Great care was taken into measuring and cutting the shirts for we couldn’t make a mistake! After all the shirts were cut, mom started sewing them into rows, she got through two… and then she left, she died. The quilt was left unfinished, incomplete.

When dad was going through the house after mom died, he came across the pile of t-shirts. He decided to have the quilt finished for me as my Christmas present that year. I remember opening the quilt that Christmas and crying. It was amazing. It was like me having part of my mother back. I treasure the quilt. I use it at times and am always terrified when I wash it.

After I finished telling the story, Justin looked into my eyes with the saddest expression. He then asked how my mom could leave before the quilt was finished. I looked at him and stated that the quilt was not the only thing left unfinished. My mom being part of my life was far from being finished, but she left, she made that choice. Just as there were many pieces of the quilt left, so were many aspects of my life. I stated that just as my quilt was put together by someone else, so has my life. In some way, the pieces of my life have been sewn together even without my mom present. Just as her imprint was left on the quilt, so is her imprint on my life.

It doesn’t make sense at times, but all I know is that my life continues to be a quilt added to and made into something beautiful. Although one of the two who started the quilt of my life left, it in no way means the quilting stopped. In her absence others have picked up a needle and thread. They have sewn in times when mom was not there, but I needed her. At times I doubted if the quilt of my life could be put together with her gone, but at each of those moments someone has stepped into my life. As I look at the continual progression of my quilt, I could not be happier. I also think my mom would be happy at the progression of the quilt of my life.