Blue Moon

I'm going to soak up the August 31 "Blue Moon," and treat it as a marker in time. The next Blue Moon will be July 31, 2015, and I am determined that my life will be very different by then.

Reading that old '92-'97 journal has been eye-opening. I should have done it a long time ago. Over half of my life has been spent on a hamster wheel, doing the same things over and over again, reliving the same painful experiences like Groundhog's Day, basically living the life of a rodent.

Todd threw another tantrum today. He's just so darn moody. One of the girls called it his "man period," and I found myself thinking, If only it were so regular and predictable and limited to one time a month.

Anyway, as he pushed me to enter into an argument, I walked away. I had to take my daughter to class anyway, so I had an excuse. It felt good driving away, and while I was out I got a call from a director I've wanted to work with for some time. He was offering me a job--a small job, but nonetheless, something creative and collaborative. After experiencing another man-period tantrum, it's so nice to talk with grown-ups who are... grown-ups. 

I've been going stir-crazy, stuck in this house, watching Todd. This project will do me good. True, I'll still be working from home and still keeping tabs on Todd, but I'll have a purpose that stretches beyond the days, weeks, or months that I'm counting down until I'm free of this role -- something that will have a positive effect on where I'll be on July 31, 2015.

Once in a blue moon we get glimpses of a future that is different than the ruts we've become entrenched in. It's kind of like how, on a road trip through a deeply wooded area, occasional gaps in the trees allow you to catch glimpses of expansive vistas that have been within a stone's throw all along, obstructed, but there. Sometimes we have to travel through pain and even destruction to get to the most memorable of views. 

I remember driving through Yellowstone National Park not too long after a major forest fire had ravaged the place. I had been hearing people grieving over the destruction and all that had been lost, and yet -- time and time again -- the beauty that captivated me was peeking through leaf-less gaps between charred branches.

This may seem a bit too romantic for a gal who has foresworn romance, but consider the application that a person can be the "love of [his/her] own." I've let too many blue moons slip by, not loving myself enough to get off the hamster wheel and start living already, subjecting myself to abuse that kept me from smiling.  



This blue moon's reminding me to love myself... and smile.