What the....?

I've been having a strange out-of-body experience lately. Or maybe it's more like an intense in-body experience. That's probably a lot more accurate.

I've never suffered from depression, even after I had my kids, which I am extremely happy about. I always said that I was way too busy to have a nervous breakdown or lie in bed for days on end, much as I would love to (not that anyone who suffers from depression wants to do any of that, just so we're clear on that point). But now that I'm feeling better, I think I was probably in somewhat of a depressed state for many of the last, oh, 19 years or so. Nothing too severe, but enough to dull a lot of what was going on around me, which honestly wasn't such a bad thing sometimes.

It was inevitable that I would eventually reawaken and take a good look around, and frankly, I'm a little shocked at what I see! Whose house is this? Since when do I like oak? Why is there wallpaper anywhere, let alone in my kitchen? Whose clothes are these? OMG! Whose thighs are those? You get the picture.

Focus, deep breaths, visualize happy times at the beach... I can accept that this is what my life looks like at this time. Yes, I did choose an impractical, tiny house--I can live with that. At least the antiques are quarter-sawn oak--they can stay. Wallpaper is awful, but I'm pretty good at stripping it off and will be more than happy to do it again. Accessories can do wonders for a T-shirt and jeans ensemble. Right, about those thighs... This is indeed your body, and it is still alive in spite of your gross negligence. Not to worry! That's why you walk and should probably start running stairs right after you finish this post. For every problem, there is a solution. I'm pretty sure that's a law of physics or something.

Hope my lights don't keep you up too late, Sue. I've got a bit of catching up to do.

Love On the Rocks

After 21+ years, it's a little hard sometimes to keep the spark going. A houseful of kids, pets, chores, and work take their toll. For years, Sweetie used to unwind by going for long hikes in the mountains, but I never went with him. The kids were too little to go with us, I had too much to do at home--there was always some reason why he hiked solo. Then he started having lots of problems with his joints, and even he didn't hike anymore.

Last night we had a big Philosophy department dinner at our chair's cabin up at Sundance. It's a gorgeous old place that his wife's parents built in the 40s, right on the creek up a private road. There were so many new faculty members that I had never met and I got to visit with the lovely ones I've known all these past 19 years. We had such a great time, and near the end several of us decided to take off on a hike to Stewart Falls.

I've been feeling so amazingly great lately, especially these last few weeks, that I was more than game for it. Tinkerbell joined us, and Sweetie and I took our first hike together in years. We walked on a private path until it joined up with the main trail, then about 1/2 mile beyond there we reached the falls. By this time it was getting pretty cool out, and the water was freezing coming off the rocks. But after teasing Tinkerbell that I would throw her in, she dared me to go under myself.

Completing this hike was huge for me. My joints didn't hurt at all, not even a little, for the first time in years. I walked across logs to cross streams and didn't fall in, which is also pretty rare, kept up a good steady pace, didn't even get out of breath because I've been walking so much lately. I did not make it all the way up to those falls just to walk back down again. So I walked right into that water and let it drench me. It was definitely cold, but euphoric in a certain respect. Then Tinkerbell hopped under too. Sweetie thought we were both insane and was not tempted to join us.

It was dark by the time we reached the cabin, with a bright white moon coming over the mountain. While our lovely hostess let Tinkerbell soak her cold feet in some warm water, I walked down to the meadow to drive the van closer to the house. The whole way down, the words to Jem's song "Got It Good" kept running through my mind. Having a good attitude is important, but having my health return makes life worth living again. I truly am a lucky girl.

Rock On Drummer Boy

Last night Sweetie and I spent the evening at BYU attending the new student/parent barbeque. It was so much fun! There were thousands of people there--the line stretched from the west end of Helaman Field all the way through the southeast gate and up the street in Helaman Halls, and it stayed that long for an hour or more, no matter how many people went through. Somebody from BYUSA (student government) had good taste in music and was blasting it through some serious speakers. Lots of sun (I've got that summertime glow back again on my neck and face), happy kids, proud parents, energy galore. We even got to see him perform for the first time with the band as they rocked the house. Those 14 hours days have really paid off!

I was talking to a man behind us in line who also has a son in the Cougar Marching Band. I mentioned that I keep having to remind myself that this college experience is what we've been working for all these years and not a sad thing, so I don't get teary. He smiled at me and said he has been telling his wife the exact same thing. I'm sure I went to school with many parents there that I would never recognize now. We all looked the same! Sun damage, crow's feet, gray hairs here and there--all with stupid grins on our aging faces. It was hugely validating and inclusive, in an odd way. Further reinforcement that time has marched on was the tent where they sold shirts commemorating the 25th anniversary of BYU's 1984 national football championship season. I went to every one of those home games with my boyfriend. 25 years?! But we were just there!

So off he goes into the dorms this week. My wonderful kid is moving out. When he was a baby older moms would urge me to enjoy every moment with him because the time would fly by. I took their advice to heart, even though there were days that felt like an eternity all by themselves. I have loved every minute of being his mom! I'm enormously proud of him, and everyone who meets him thinks I'm totally justified. I will definitely miss having him here every day, but he's just up the street really. He is my partner in crime when it comes to our music tastes since no one else has an appreciation for 80s music and Michael Jackson around here.

You rock my world, Chris!

Song of the Day

Oftentimes a blog post will be inspired by a particular song I've recently listened to, though it's just as likely I guess that the post itself will inspire the song choice. With that in mind, I've created "Diane's Song of the Day" over on the sidebar. It's just another bellweather of the state of mind I'm in when I write, which is fun for me to revisit.

Or sometimes I think the song really rocks and I just want to share. I'm really generous like that :)

Happy Birthday to Me!

For my birthday present, please leave a comment. Even if you never have before for whatever reason in the world, I would love to hear from you.

I'm so curious to see who reads my blog!

Wild Child

I had a great day Sunday. I couldn't sleep, so I snuck out of the house early in the morning, cranked up Jem on the CD player, drove all through Provo Canyon, and ran away for the day. I drove fast on winding roads, got lots of sun and fresh air, had an amazing chair lift ride up the mountain, ate a crazy good sandwich at Sundance, and had a fabulous time. It was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Tomorrow is my birthday, and I'll be 46. Not that 46 is old--I've heard that 50 is the new 30 after all, so I'm really only going to be about 26. But even so, I've been around awhile now. Some days my 20s seem like just yesterday, and others so long ago that I think they were just a dream. When opportunity smacks you upside the head and gives you a chance to look your past square in the eyes and reconcile it with your present--that, my friends, is an eye-opener. You may not be where you want to be in life, or look the way you want, or a host of other things, but do it anyway. You have to take those opportunities when they come, because if there's one thing that growing older has taught me, it is this: those chances don't always come back around for a second try. Carpe diem.

I had so much time up there to think and work things out, and I really created a fresh start for myself. Look at your true self, see where you are, reassess, correct your course, and move on. I'm not going to beat myself up anymore for what I did or didn't do. I keep looking at the past from my current position, and of course everything I did looks insane! That's why we get better with age (in most respects). But at the time, I struggled with things, made decisions one way or the other, and tried to make the best of whatever the consequences of those decisions entailed. Is that something to regret? Of course not!

So it's all good, things have a way of working out, and I am embracing it and being happy.

A Love Letter To Sweetie

Many years ago I met a brilliant, funny, intriguing grad student. He wasn't like other men I'd met. He liked to talk about art, film, and literature with me, subjects which I knew next to nothing about, but which he enthusiastically taught me. He cooked for me, we went for long walks together, and stayed up late talking and talking. One October night after a particularly hard day, he searched all over Chicago to find me daffodils and dutch iris, my very favorites. He was so concerned with making me happy, that I actually started to be again.

But there was a part of me that was still unhappy, and that part would leave the rest of me and race around the cosmos, frantically searching for something it didn't understand or recognize. And he took care of the rest of me during these voyages until that part came back for a moment or two. I knew he loved me, because he showed me every day, but I still wasn't sure if I was ready.

Then one night he read a poem to me, and it changed everything.

When You Are Old

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

--W. B. Yeats

I knew that he understood me, and that if I wasn't careful I would lose out on the opportunity to share a life with this wonderful man.

So I fell in love with him, and my pilgrim soul came home to rest.