Tonight I went to confession! That sentence deserves an exclamation point because I have most likely not been to confession (well, reconciliation) since I was in 4TH GRADE. Or maybe sometime in high school, but still...that's a LONG TIME. But, hey! I like to surprise myself, keep things interesting, etc. and so as I was sitting there after Katie made her first reconciliation today (they do these things in 2nd grade around here these days), the thought popped into my head, and I popped into the confessional.
I was amazed. I had envisioned it being this gigantic thing, as it seemed in 4th grade, or even in high school...but it was more like a conversation with a very nice person, about something that was troubling me. I left feeling like, hey! How cool that my religion offers free therapy! I should do this more often...
And here's where this one thought keeps coming back to me, through other people. First, from Bill (but I never believe him...he's like another me around here and I always think he is too close to the situation to really understand it, or maybe blinded by his affection for his wife to be impartial): "It's not your fault". Then, from my Dad, on his deathbed, in his garbled speech, "It's ok, Pam." Then, from the naturopath, "it's not your fault - even the guilty feeling can be related to biochemistry"...and she even has a homeopathic remedy to help this guilt-situation, which I think is at the same time totally hilarious and not believable, and also totally awesome if it works! (dichotomy! ha!) And finally, from the priest, who clarified that he didn't know the situation, but that sometimes things could actually be just as they seem (not all sunny and love-filled)...which I took as another idea that maybe I am not wrong in my thoughts and feelings all the time. And then he steered me into a different way of thinking, which is exactly what the acupuncturist told me 1.5 weeks ago - she basically told me I may never totally unpack all of the garbage, but I may just decide to leave it and make and follow a new resolution for myself.
So HOW ABOUT THAT. I have collected quite a random sampling of opinions, and they are all leading me back to the same little thoughts. So freakily awesome, the interconnectedness of things, sometimes. (I mean, I know it is all talking about me...but still. I was never even discussing the same thing with each person...but they all give me the same advice.)
I know I am being cryptic here...but the main point in ALL of this, for me at least, is that I don't have to figure everything out, or work all the way through hard emotions in order to come to a better and happier place. It doesn't even matter WHAT the situation is, really - ever. There just comes a time when a person needs to say to herself, "Pam, you're a good girl. [the priest actually told me that I was a good person and needed to focus on what good I do, instead of what not- good feelings I might have]. Who really cares what is going on here, or what is at the bottom of this whole messy thing. Let's just pick up, turn our faces to the sun, and move on with spreading that sunshine to other people. And PLEASE, leave the garbage with the garbage, if it is bothering you that much."
I may just try that!
And now, let me just lodge a few other random complaints and observations, because all of this confessing has left me so sunshine-y and cheerful that I feel like complaining - ha ha!
How weird is it that all of these people are preparing for our Thanksgiving meal, for not very many people, and the sheer amount of things I need to prepare (less than 1/3 of the entire meal) is more than I have prepared for my family in one whole entire week? Either I need to start cooking more (yes, this is true) or people need to eat less at Thanksgiving (also true). Oh, I hate cooking.
I'm looking at my darling 15.5 year old cat, who is staring at me as she ferociously tries to get out of the cat door Bill installed on the door leading to the basement (installed a few years ago). I love that cat, but she is such a huge gigantic pain in the ass and if she PEES ON MY DAUGHTER'S BEDDING ONE MORE TIME I MAY JUST LOSE IT! I'm not entirely sure that it is Maddie, but let's just say this - Annie is gone and the occasional inappropriate elimination continues...and seems to be ramping up, actually. Yes, I do have two cats and until I can convince Bill to install a Cat-cam, I doubt I'll know for sure. And no, I don't want to take her to the veterinarian to see what is going on. (see appendix a, which outlines our thousands of dollars of vet bills over the past year and then see appendix b, which outlines the extensive research I have done both in the field and in other texts to see what can be done in this situation, and appendix c, which is also entitled "Fifty Things Pam Does A Day To Instill Domestic Harmony in Her House Between Her Pets"). Oh how I love and abuse my washer/dryer and carpet cleaner (and vacuum for that matter). I feel so young to be on my 3rd-4th generation of all of those things!
Lastly, whoa am I tired of painting. The de-brownification of the house continues, as I paint the the trim on the main level of the house. I am such a shitty painter, too. However, I don't really care. I have found a way to gain a little zen while painting (flashback to early 2007, when we had just moved into this house, and I could paint for about 4 hours before losing my *&$t and yelling at the whole family...and now I have just spent about 4 eight+ hour days in a row painting and doing other various home improvement projects - thursday, 4 hours, friday, 8 hours, saturday, 12 hours, sunday, 14 hours, monday, 10 hours): I envision myself having touched each square inch of this house, probably 2-3 times (by the time I prime and patch and paint) and I imagine myself applying love to this crazy house. So how can I hate that splash there, and that ugliness there? I was just trying to love this crazy beastly red/brown crapfest of a house! That I love so much! And how many people can say they have touched all 3000 square feet of their house, inch-by-inch? I guess some, but still...I think I should gain some sort of entrance into a secret society of home improvement dorks for all of my efforts.
I did tell Bill that we were certifiably insane when we bought this crapfest...how could we not have known exactly how much work would be required? (We did, I know...everyone did.) However, the crapfest has so much space for dreams, which is so undeniably cute of it. If I want to make a new garden, I have tons of space for it! If I want to learn how to paint trim - here you go! If I want to learn how to finish a basement - here you go, it's already so shitty that you can't mess it up any further...And my latest idea of full insanity is to transform our horrid hollow doors into something at least useful when I paint them - chalkboards or magnetic boards for the kids and their imaginations and lists (the side that faces their rooms).
OK, I was tired over 3 hours ago, so now off to bed I go. Actually, I'll do that just after I stare at my 15.5 year old through the cat door a little more and taunt her. It's my right after she gave me 4 more loads of laundry to do tonight, and a mattress to clean...