Acceptance or Resignation……..

 

These are the two words that have been  drifting through my consciousness for the past few months.

Accept by  definition means to accommodate or reconcile oneself in regards to a situation whereas resignation means the act of resigning a submissive attitude state or state.  These words seem so similar in meaning yet acceptance seems to me to be more “go with the flow” while resignation implies a sense of quitting –a giving up.

So the question begs to be asked have I accepted the now or have I merely resigned myself to the fact the life I had dreamed on will never be?

Since mid November I have been unpacking, moving putting away, throwing out and re-evaluating every aspect of my life.  I love the house I have moved into.  It’s huge and spacious.  If I could take this house and plop it beach side I would be in heaven. But I miss the ocean.  Is this it for me?  I dreamed on living in a house on the beach and drifting off to sleep to the sounds of the ocean waves crashing on the shore and I am living in the desert in the middle of nowhere and in the evenings I am lulled by the sounds of the frog community that lives in the empty lot next to my home.  I am not someone who just randomly moves. I lived in Long Beach for seven years, before that I lived in the valley in the same apt for 15 years.  I tend to stay put so other than winning the lottery and becoming an instant millionaire and buying that  beach house I will be out here for quite a while.  So, yes I have been wondering is this the end of the line for me?  Do I die in the desert rather than ocean side?

 

It is not just the move that has me reflecting but the reflection I see staring back at me in the mirror.                                  

 

And I’m not talking about age as in getting old but age as in wow yesterday I was only 25 years old where did the time and my dreams go?

 

So you see, it’s not about “aging” but about the dreams that have gone unfulfilled and that most likely will never get fulfilled and so they start to fade from memory like a classical film becomes faded and torn with time.

I look at the vision board that sits on the corner of my bedroom floor and all I want to shout at it LIAR-LIAR -LIAR!!!!  I created that vision board about the time I started this blog.

That vision board hung in my bedroom in Long Beach.  I would look at it upon awakening and before going to bed.  I had so many dreams just five years ago and I was still hopeful that they would come to pass.

As I look upon the images which were carefully chosen and placed on the board I have to accept/resign that some of those dreams have faded into nothingness.  Five-seven years ago I was still hopeful of meeting someone and starting a family. Even if I meet someone tomorrow and a relationship developed I don’t think it would be possible to start a family.  And even if it were possible for me at the age of 52 or older to have a child, would I even want to at this age?

But the dream of child and family carries with it the ways I would have celebrated Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter and all the holidays.  Gone are the dinners that will not get cooked, the cookies that will not get baked and the mother’s day cards I have always yearned for.

Ok so maybe the age factor is playing a bit into all of this contemplation.  My body is changing and not in a good way.  When I was younger I used to say that I looked forward to menopause because my periods were so painful and now as I sit at the precipice I am not so sure I am ready.  There is a line that is crossed at menopause and nothing says old lady more than the onset of menopause.  Truthfully I can’t even say that I have crossed over into that phase of life but it certainly has been on my mind lately.  I do not have any of the classic symptoms of menopause.

“Symptoms of menopause can include abnormal vaginal bleeding, hot flashes, vaginal and urinary symptoms, and mood changes.”[1] Yes, my periods have gotten sporadic but they still occur.

Crone mother is knocking at the door waiting to be invited in but how can I let her know when there is still so much that I yearn for, long for? I look at the face in the mirror and I ask, “Who are you? ” Why do you torment me when I want to hang onto dreams that will never be?”

 

 

And she responds by the glistening appearance of silver in my hair.  I have not dyed my hair in months.  I want to know what she knows.  I want to know what my real hair color looks like under the remnants of the last dye job.  Truthfully I am tired of the effort it takes to color my hair.  What is the point of looking younger than I am?  You see coloring the hair is almost like telling a little white lie (yes pun intended).  It allows me and you to pretend that I am a different version of me.  And each time I color my hair and the dye goes down the bathroom sink I wonder where does it go? Out to the ocean?  Am I polluting my beloved ocean merely for the sake of vanity?

Yemaya and Crone Mother are knocking at my door waiting to be let in.  But how can I allow the crone to enter when mother I have not been?  A maiden I have been. And maidens become mothers which ultimately transform the feminine into divine wisdom. I do not know if I am ready.  I hear them but chose to ignore them in my silence.

A friend said I will look older if I allow the grey to be.  A fellow actor said I might book more.  I think there is a peace that women achieve when they reach the stage where they open the door to the wisdom of the Crone.  I am not there yet.  I want to be all moved in with everything in its proper place. Furniture fixed and painted and looking new, well at least looking matched. I’d like to see the art back up on the walls but there is this fatigue that overcomes me.

I have had health issues since October 2013. I have lost my sense of taste and smell or rather I have a distorted sense of taste and smell–which has limited what I can eat. And I have this constant fatigue-that never seems to go away. My right hand is slightly crippled from the dog bite and a couple of months ago I slammed the same right hand with the car door. My middle finger is still swollen and not totally healed.  So you see there is much that keeps me from entertaining Mother Crone.  But she is there like a shadowy ghost beckoning me, to follow her to take the leap for what follows next in my life.

Is there an in between for me that can fill the gap of non-motherhood. Can I redefine Mother Crone into a Wisdom Goddess that truly reflects who I am and who I have been?

 

So I have to wonder have I resigned myself that certain dreams will never be or am I accepting that life has many stages and the time has come to move on?

[1] http://www.medicinenet.com/menopause/article.htm accessed on June 28 2014