the reawakening

just a day. one day. that's all i needed to complete the challenge.

a year and half ago, i bought a book titled Do One Thing a Day That Scares You and i have done, to date, exactly two things. my second challenge was to live without social media for one day. i've done that before, but it was never on purpose. this time, it would be a conscious choice.

and, boy, conscious it was.

typically, i hopped on FB multiple times throughout the day for 5-10 minutes at a time. i'd be in between something and often scold myself for not just letting myself "be" for those moments, but it was an easy voice to shut off. so, on that first day, it was no surprise to have to stop myself multiple times from logging on. i realized how hopping on so many times affected my attention and how often i used this as an excuse to push off starting a project. this would then lead me to stay on social media longer than planned which would delay starting a project, if at all. then i'd beat myself up for letting another day slip by without getting to "that" (whatever "that" would be). at the end of that first day, i realized that i got SO.MUCH.DONE. i then decided to extend the challenge one more day. then, one more. then, one more, and now i'm at 4 weeks.

keeping myself off social media opened up a world i had forgotten about. it also made me realize how social media affected my mood, and living without it has allowed me to feel grief on a level i didn't think possible because i was present with every emotion. 

let me first say what social media i'm on. i have FB, instagram, and twitter accounts. FB was my only social media outlet for most of the last 10 years. i signed up with twitter over a year ago and quickly realized it made my blood boil faster than FB did, so i rarely went on it by choice. i signed up for an instagram account last year and have enjoyed that immensely as i use it for artistic reasons only. 

the internet is such an easy place to spread misinformation, and as much as i would like to lay misinformation at the feet of trump and his supporters, this issue belongs to everyone, even me. i have been called out more than once for sharing something on FB that was false. and, while i do try to take the time before sharing to do a quick search to see what other news sources are saying about a particular topic, things slip. having to research an article's authenticity takes time and that is scarce. lame excuse, but true.

so i went back to reading just the paper that gets delivered. i know i'm getting news that's at least 24 hours old, but i don't care. i'm reading from a legitimate source and i don't have to go research on-line to see if it's true. i trust the journalist at the Los Angeles Times to have already done that for me which is why they're the journalists and i am not. anyone can pretend to be a journalist on-line, and too many do. people also forget opinion is not fact. for this, we can thank trump and his supporters.

even though i'm reading the news from one main source, i still get enraged by whatever idiotic thing trump has done, thought, or said, but i then take that anger and release it by working on, and completing, a project, by playing with my children (imagine that!), by cooking, by going outside and watering my plants and smiling at the butterflies and birds. this is just a small example of what has changed and it has been amazing for my soul. by popping on FB multiple times throughout the day, i've been bombarding myself with all the horrible things that exist in this world. i was angry ALL the time. all.the.time. i felt like the end of the world was happening every day. i worried about the future. i couldn't believe how stupid our country had gotten. all this and more, every day, buzzing around in my brain. for 4 weeks now i have been free of this. do i still worry about the future? hell yes. but it's not all-consuming right now. i find myself more present than before in whatever i'm doing in the moment that i'm doing it.

i've been listening to music more and reading. reading! both for pleasure and academic. i've been writing. i rediscovered photography with my Canon A-1 film camera and, in those "in between" moments, i sit and stare at a wall or cuddle my kids. 

i have also been grieving. hard. i cleaned out closets and approached projects i had wanted to do since we moved 3 years ago and others that i've been wanting to get to for 15-20 years. going through decades of photos tossed me into a whirlwind of emotions. i found letters that my mom left me written by my grandfather and some by my good-for-nothing father. my mom had told me about these letters throughout my life, but i thought they got lost in either the multiple moves my mom made in lithuania or in a flood that she had some years ago. i never realized i had them for the last 10 years, and making this discovery crippled me emotionally for a while. i don't think i would've been able to feel so deeply if i had hopped on FB, nor do i think i would've been able to process my findings for as long as i needed. i'm not someone who hides her life or emotions, but what of it if i had posted about my find that day? people would have read it, commented on it (maybe), clicked "like" (maybe) and then my feed would've scrolled on, the sentiment buried. just like we bury our emotions with all these social media distractions throughout the day. is it any wonder depression has skyrocketed? we hide behind a screen curating our lives to be the best version we feel it should be. most of us hide the ugly, and for those of us who don't necessarily do that, creating a post about the ugly doesn't do justice to the emotion's reality and, so, you're still left kind of empty no matter how many "likes" or comments you get. it took a few days for me to process and accept finding what i thought was lost, and without FB as a distraction, i couldn't bury it all in my feed.

will i be off social media forever? no, probably not, but i went back to instagram about a week or two ago and discovered that i'm spending more time on it than before which made me realize that social media feeds my "all or nothing" personality. it's this "all or nothing" that has gotten me into so much trouble throughout my life. i'm afraid that i will struggle with any attempts to limit my time on social media. 

as a result, i repeatedly ask myself, do i miss facebook? and, honestly? not really, though i have missed communicating with a few people with whom i'd communicate on a daily basis. i've seen that the way the world is now, social media is how we communicate with people. is this good? i don't think so, but i don't know what the solution is. i feel the social media ball is rolling down a hill and there's no way to slow it down, much less stop it. i also don't know how high that hill is, but it's very obvious the more people we connect with, and to, on social media, the lonelier we, as a society, feel. i read somewhere recently that we humans need human interaction and touch in order to function normally. this is one of the reasons it is strongly encouraged to hug children as much as possible; it releases endorphins which helps with development. if we don't get "x" amount of touch per day, we can slip into depression. how much time do you spend behind a screen vs spending time with someone, getting/giving a hug, holding a hand, or giving/getting a kiss? i bet the former gets more time. i know for the last 10 years it did for me.

it's up to us to change what's not working in our lives. the internet and social media are addictive, and while i don't have an addictive personality, per se, i totally believe i was - am - addicted. my challenge now is to find a balance between being a part of this century and not losing myself. i didn't like being angry or upset all the time or, dare i say, finding myself jealous of friends' posts, but i did often come across useful information that i wouldn't otherwise see. i need to find that balance, and find a way to have more contact in-person and less contact via computer screen. i challenge you to do the same. 

the only constant is change

two years without my mom.

i had been so eager to get to the 1-year mark because i thought i would magically stop feeling the hole in my heart. but, alas, that did not happen. two things did happen after that first year which caught me off-guard. one, i started to feel an emergence from a dark cloud, which i didn't think i would ever feel. it was baby steps, but the emergence let me feel other things again. by the summer, 16-17 months after she passed, i found i was again aware of my surroundings. i could now look around the house we bought 2 years prior and unpack boxes that were forgotten about, hang up art, or think about decorating for any holidays. most importantly, though, i could be present with my children again.

that first year was all about survival for me. it's cliche to say, "My children saved me," but, in a way, it was true. they had to be dressed, be fed, get to pre-school, have play-dates, etc., and it was up to me to do all that when all i wanted to do was lay in bed and/or stare at a wall. i had to put aside any grief and focus on them, and at the end of the day i was too tired to think or feel. but the grief would creep up and it would come on quickly and suddenly; the second thing that caught me off-guard. it would come out in rare moments i was in the car by myself and i would lose control of my emotions. or washing dishes. or folding laundry. and while these moments in the last year came less, what i didn't count on was the intensity of them staying with me for a few days before getting back on my feet. i felt that for every 2 steps forward i took, those intense moments set me back 5. this made the second year of grief to be a lot more difficult than the first. i felt her physically gone in every one of my pores. and being so much more aware meant the holidays, especially Thanksgiving, were more difficult to get through than the first year. any firsts that happened last year were that much more painful, such as walking my older daughter to school on her first day and leading her to her line for the first time, and then saying goodbye just about killed me.

there are many ways in which my mom's death changed me to the core, and i'm still sorting through those changes and what they mean to me. the sense of finality is so ingrained in me now. i have always strived to live by the words, "Live each day to its fullest"; however, being present with someone who takes her last breath made those words grow life-sized and turn into neon-colored block letters for me. i feel those words. they are not abstract to me anymore. i savor more moments in my life. i tell myself to risk a little more. i remind myself more often to be grateful of the life i've had up to this point.

i still struggle with witnessing my mom's passing. i vacillate between being grateful and happy we were able to fulfill her last wish, and anger because i will forever have those images seared into my memory. it is also my last memory of her.

i feel her sometimes and have dreamt of her, and, of course, i miss her like hell. but i see her in my baby niece and that always makes me smile. i hope i keep feeling her close and i look forward to our fleeting moments in my dreams, but i especially look forward to seeing her spirit come through in her grandchildren.

i don't know what to expect from this upcoming year. from what i'm told, the hole never goes away, but its pain lessens. i can already tell this is true. i try to remind myself that our mom wouldn't want me (us) to dwell on things. for as beautifully, vivaciously, and chaotically as she chose to live her life, and despite seeking out ways to challenge the status quo, one thing she was incredible at was accepting things as they were. she would often remind me that i was stressing over things that i could not control, and i've been trying to work on keeping myself focused on that. i saw her battle breast cancer in 1995 and i saw her fight for 12 weeks in late 2015 through early 2016, defying predictions of top specialists at the Mayo Clinic in Phoenix. she shocked nurses and doctors with her will to pull through. her numbers weren't matching the situation she was in. they couldn't make sense of it. but there is always a check-mate and this was cancer's turn. while i'll never know for sure, i think there were a few days of sadness, and maybe even anger, on my mom's part once this reality was presented to her. but 48 hours after meeting with her team where we were told there was nothing they could medically do for her anymore, i noticed her entire demeanor had changed. she was ready to come home and she was no longer in battle mode. she was in acceptance mode. she still had 8 days of hell to go through. we all did. but underneath all of that was the acceptance that this particular life's adventure was coming to an end. out of all that i witnessed and went through in those 12 weeks, this is the one, last, big lesson she taught me. it was also very much in character. so, in honor of her, i've written out the lyrics of the song we played at her request during her memorial - Frank Sinatra's, My Way:

And now, the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

My friend, I'll say it clear

I'll state my case, of which I'm certain

I've live a life that's full

I've traveled each and every highway

But more, much more than this

I did it my way

Regrets, I've had a few

But then again, too few to mention

I did what I had to do

And saw it through without exemption

I planned each chartered course

Each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this

I did it my way

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew

But through it all, when there was doubt

I at it up and spit it out

I faced it all and stood tall

And did it my way

I've loved. I've laughed and cried

I've had my fill my share of losing

And now,...

Buči buči myliu myliu.*

*Lithuanian, "Kisses, hugs/I love you."