One more day in the Rogue Valley...

As each day passes now...I see what my life really means to not only myself...but to those that need me. Emotions are on high gear with friends & family...and of course I feel responsible for them as I spend my final days here with them. I haven't written on here for weeks...and this is mostly the reason. why. For me to leave on this journey I need to feel that every one I care about will be okay...even my birds who seem to sense this upcoming absence. I have one more day in the Rogue Valley before I leave. I don't want to spend that day running around, paying bills, waisting precious moments. I want to breathe in the clean air, sit by the creak below my house,....and take in the gratitude that I feel for living the good life. Yesterday was my birthday. As usual, I reflected on all of the joy that I have in my life, and all that is to come. I wrote in my journal for hours....hung out with my beloved daughter Sequoia all day....spent time with my husband, my best friend Nikki, and my Rhiannon, Henry, & Liam. There was a strong sense that I was leaving....almost as if a part of me was actually dying, which it is. But what I felt & have been feeling most is that the prospect of my departure has actually brought me closer to home. I am blessed with people that truly love me despite my imperfections. I will take these goodbye hugs with me....the "I don't know what I will do without you" sayings, the warm & thoughtful cards, emails, and phone calls with me....my community and life is here in this valley. I don't know if I would ever feel comfort in being so far away from here unless I knew that I have the greatest place to call home. Thank you Oregon....thank you friends....thank you my circle of beloved best of friends...thank you my sweet animal companions...one of which is trying to type on my keyboard at the moment.....but most especially I thank Marko- the father of my children and the best co-parent and longest friend I have. Thank you Sequoia & Rhiannon for being so happy & understanding of this need for my adventure. Thank you my husband who I know is having a hard time thinking of life without his crazy wife for almost three months. To my mother ....  who continues to offer advice and support. And also to my higher self. The one within who knows what I need & carries me through. And of course to my ancestors who want me to know them & their homeland. I will come back a better human being....this I know. I won't forget any of you...and I know you won't forget me. Blessings....until we meet again.....
Paddy

Oh....September

     The sun shines a bit differently when I turn the calender page to September each year. I love the sound of the word when I say it out loud...or in my stream of consciousness. When I was a little girl...I always wanted my name to be September. This is the month that I am at home within myself. I find a renewed sense of hope and tranquility that seems to escape my yearning spirit throughout the year. True...I was born in the month of September...and perhaps most people feel these feelings near their birthday....but I am not most people...and I can only express my own heart song in this life. When all the neighborhood kids would tease me as a child about being born in the month that the dreaded days of school began...inside, I found myself singing with the magic of the autumn season approaching.Since I have been journaling since the age of seven, I can turn back the pages of my life and find the same words written on the first day of September that I have ever recorded. It always starts with one triumphant word....maybe not a word at all....but the whisper of a sigh...I have made it around the sun one more time. My journey each year through this life walk continues to amaze me. And as the weeks before the day of my birth approaches...I always reflect on what I have done, what I have learned, and where it is that I am going. This is my final year in my thirties. The year my youngest daughter, starts high school...the year my oldest will be twenty...the year my oldest step-son makes preparations for college...and my little Liam will be in high school too. It's hard to imagine how fast life really does go by when you are a new mom...and your elders tell you...as my mama did...."savor every moment because before you know it, they will be grown". She was so right. I had the privilege of becoming a mother when I was but a child myself. In this...I have grown along with them.  But this year....this year....their is a personal voyage I must take. Every moment in my life thus far has led me to this new year. As I prepare to leave behind the only things that have ever really mattered to me...my children, my husband, my dear friends, and my home...I set out on a path of my own for the first time since I left NYC. As I take the next step on the path before me...I cannot help but look back and see all the wonderful things the Creator has gifted me with. My life is full and complete. I have just finished my first year back in college...something I put off for decades because I didn't want to miss any more moments than I had to of my children's childhood. I am embarking on a journey to the homeland of my ancestors...ready to embrace the unknown and find that missing piece of my lineage. Something has been awakened within me in this last year. A desire so strong... to become all that I was meant to be and more. An authentic need to shed the prison cell I have at times created within my mind...the bars that have held me back....the voices that told me I could never fulfill my dreams...the ghosts of my past that have haunted me...and at times still succeed. Although I have reached this ripe old age...I am still that adventurous little girl who hungered for so much more. The girl who worried her parents sick when she put on a back-pack at 14 and said goodbye. The girl who at times, endangered her own life living in those squalid places of NYC...the girl who bought a plane ticket at 16 and flew to San Fransisco without knowing a soul there...the girl who rode the Greyhound bus across the country twice at 17...the girl who moved to a little tiny town at 18 and became pregnant with her beloved child with her first love. She stabilized  her gypsy nature...not a suppression of will....but a desire to give her children a grounded life. Well...she has awakened...she once again, despite her worries and doubts...puts that first foot forward to reclaim that sense of her individuality once again. What she will bring home with her is that spirit of autonomy that she so desires her children to grasp. Life is painfully short. What other reason are we here for other than to celebrate, love, and enjoy and honor our beating hearts. This is the year of the dream...living the good life....and following our passions. Never knowing how much time we have left...no matter how old you are...how young you are...you never know when your day will come to depart. To quote one of my favorite bands...."When the angel of death comes looking for me....hear the angels sing....I hope I was every thing I was suppose to be..." Here's to life...and a merry month of September to all!

In my DNA

So....I am writing an essay for my International Studies class about Italian culture. Looking through my collection of books, on-line periodicals, and such I had another one of my epiphanies. Since I have yet to stand on the soil of my ancestors all that I really have to go by is the imprint of Italy in my DNA...and the things my grandmother taught me before she died. I use to wonder if my family was just unique and weird...all the little mannerisms and rituals I thought of as superstitious. What I now can only begin to comprehend is that my Nana brought the old world to America with her...instilled it in her eight surviving children...and passed it on to me. I think one of the true misfortunes of being born in this country as a second generation American is that we...I....have lost so much of the knowledge of the old world. I have friends older than me who's grandparents are still alive. I envy them and wish I would have been more aware as a child of how precious time really is. I would ask my Nana  many questions if she were alive today. I never had the honor of meeting my Papa either. But what I do know is that heritage is not about patriotism. It is about cultural roots that help to explain who we are on an ethereal level. One of the many things I wish to do while I am in Italy is to find out more about my family roots. I have relations there that I have never met..I keep dreaming about climbing large trees and I think it has something to do with my lineage...finding my relations and discovering something more about myself. I already have the sense that although I will inevitably experience culture shock...I do believe I will feel a sense of belonging like I never have before.

The minutes seem like hours when faced with finals this week. Though I try to maintain some sort of equilibrium through it all....I am always on my knees begging for mercy. With everything on my plate right now...hoping that those that rely on me will be watched over and protected while I am so far from home...I tend to want to pull out my superhero card and make the many sacrifices even I don't notice I succeed in on the day to day level bare some weight at this moment. Being tested for my intelligence level during finals makes me want to scream at times. Possibly this is the main reason I put off finishing my degree for so long. What I have been faced with is this untold concept of a woman's duty...as mother, as wife, as friend. A book I read a long time ago titled Slaying the Mermaid...Women and the Culture of Sacrifice...brought up some issues for me when I used it as a reference in an essay I wrote recently. Author Stephanie Golden states, “Women’s propensity for excessive self-sacrifice is so well known it’s a cliché, a staple of magazine articles and self-help books. We’re so used to it that we take for granted much behavior which, viewed from a normal perspective (that is, try to imagine a man doing it), appears morbid.”

This is an issue that I have been struggling with greatly in the middle of the night...leaving my family to embark on a quest I put on hold when I became aware that I was one of those statistics of becoming a teenage mother. As stated before...I am so far from perfect...but despite the trials and tribulations I have experienced...the glue that has held together my desire to live a good life has always been my children. And then...I was also blessed with three "step-children" who have always felt like my flesh and blood. I have to say the one drawback with being a "step-mom" is that you aren't gifted the opportunity to prove yourself worthy of that connection. There is always that label above you...and mostly- at least in our era...that role is not considered significant enough to allow you the opportunity to just be. So I fret...I worry...I continually doubt myself. Yet the promise of becoming a better person through all of it makes this quest a mandatory element to not just my own self-growth...but to truly allow the inspiration that I will feel to positively enhance the people I hold most dear. I hope they remember that when they are frustrated with my absence. I hope that they too will grow from this and that I come back a better human being than I ever thought was possible. Connecting with one's cultural roots is an essential part of understanding our full potential. This prayer I carry in my heart tonight...and hope that everyone finds their personal strength to make their own dreams a reality.
P
 

The next stage....

Back from the river...the orientation...and then the river again. As each day passes, the concept of me stepping outside of my bubble becomes more apparent. Good times with the family on the river this weekend made me realize once again how lucky I actually am. I also drove up to the capital of Oregon....Salem...for an orientation to this Italia program yesterday. It made this experience even more real....talking to others just as unsure as myself. The skin is shedding, no matter how unwilling I am at times to let it go.The sound of the river flowing reminded me that life is about change...growth... transformation...and authenticity. I am one lucky woman to have so many people to support this molting I am experiencing....this molting that will make me someone different to my loved ones when I return. This is my epiphany for the weekend. I am ready now for this change....finally!

Rogue River...or bust!

On our way out to my favorite river in all of the world with some of my most favorite people.Blogs...and all that will not be a part of my unwinding. How we all manage to make it through the grind of our lives is beyond me. I have two more weeks left of this term and promised myself today that I would never go to school during the summer again. Too much glory in the woods and rivers happening for me to sink my head in a book. I hope you all have a fantastic weekend. Wherever you are...may you find some connection to the life force around you.

There's No Place Like Home!

     The mundane of my existence-that which usually goes unnoticed on a day to day level-is beginning to wear me down. Even simple chores like doing dishes, or getting the laundry done- seems so benign compared to the larger essence of life. It's not that I don't care about today....I am just living in a different realm. The kids are all gone, and Eric is not home-so I am distracting myself on this blog, while I have the hardest essay I have ever possibly written left undone on my computer. I just read Zora Neale Hurston's book, Their Eyes Were Watching God, and I am suppose to write at least a six page analysis for a literature class I am taking. What is holding me back is that I have one of the most brilliant professors I have yet to meet as my instructor (his literary analysis is very much akin to my own) and to top that off he did his dissertation on this novel. I am a perfectionist...this I know. But this brilliant novel is so aligned with so many aspects of my life that I find myself in at the moment....that my essay is becoming extremely personal instead of professional. Hence....I just keep deleting. I am sure many writers find themselves feeling insecure while reading the literary geniuses out there. But I do feel distracted by my own thoughts at the moment, and figure I can contribute to my side "homework" while in this state. I continually strive to understand the deeper meaning of words. This blog to me represents a sort of freedom about caring (or not) about proper grammar, punctuations, and works sited. I can express myself without the concern of all of this...so no criticism if I misspell...it may be intentional! After school on Thursday I am going to camp on my favorite river...the Rogue. My husband's family comes down every year to gather and connect with one another. Before dawn on Saturday, I am driving up to meet the other students who will be in this program with me in Salem. One of my fears I suppose with having to live in a dorm like setting is that I NEED my space from humans. This is part of the reason I live in this dinky ass little town. Hopefully I will get a room mate that spends a lot of time on the town. So...back to my essay I suppose. I am required to write on this blog once a day, but until I finish this term.... I can't see how that is possible. One great thing about this evening is the thunder is rolling over my head...and I realize how small I actually am. I love this valley and will miss the incredible expression that mother earth shows to me everyday I am alive here. To quote my daughters when they are making fun of me...."Bring it on Mama!" Sweet dreams my peeps!

Five weeks, four days, nineteen hours, five minutes

Time is an illusion. This I know. In less than six weeks I will embark on the biggest journey of my life. Living in the Rogue Valley these last twenty years has both grounded me, yet stifled my growth. I am ready for something bigger- something beyond my comfort zone- something that will stretch me in a way this valley no longer can. I have my fears- I have many doubts. What I do realize is there is no other moment but now to embrace this life that I have been given. I received a scholarship which paid for the majority of my expenses. And though I question god at times (no offense if you are really there)....what I have realized over these last few weeks is that something beyond my understanding- bigger than I can ever comprehend- wants me to go. I awake during the night sometimes and wonder if I feel this way because I will never return. Those moments....I know you all have them....when you realize your mortality and wonder why you have survived for so long. Though I doubt, though I question why I am doing this, though my concern for my children and my husband at times outweighs my independent nature, I know if there is a God- He/She/It/They want me to go. They are pushing me to do this. Even my own blessed mother, who gave life to me, supports this decision- and she is usually very conservative when it comes to adventure. The conversations I have been having with my sweet little Italian mama these last few weeks has....for the first time in my entire life- been urging me to step outside of my box, and see the world like I never have before. What I have realized is that my preconceived notions of my mother are completely false. She has the spirit of adventure in her. She has traveled to Europe many times despite what her family advised her to do. She followed her heart and found that part of her that was missing. I remember my nanna- Italian in every sense of the word- tried to teach me to proud of my heritage. I am only beginning to feel connected to my Italian side....always felt more drawn to my father's Irish roots. But...despite my issues with my mother's family that I was exposed to....I deeply love my mother and want to embrace the warrior/amazon that she is. She is a beautiful woman with more strength than her children could ever be aware of. She holds within her the DNA that I come from and I feel an obligation to understand that while she is still on this planet. I lost my beloved father many years ago, before I got the chance to ask him stories and facts about my ancestors. Now....I live through my blessed Mama....and hope to come back with a small amount of what she has given me throughout the years. This journey ahead of me has shown me so much about how incredibly awesome my ancestors were.Unlike my grandparents, I am crossing the Atlantic with an assured destination. They had no idea what or where they were headed to. This journey I am about to embark on is in dedication to them- Irish and Italian. But mostly I dedicate this vision quest to my mother- for giving me life and for excepting me for who I am. The older I get, the more I realize how dynamic my parents were/are. This is for you Mama! Thank you for giving me life, courage, and support....though I know my free will has tormented you. You are a strong woman in every sense of the word.
P