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I M Perfect lady

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Category: Examples of an Imperfect woman

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We had been to the Badlands when our kids were little. We both remember them climbing over these ball like formations. We never did see what we remembered. The new rules prohibit wandering off the trails.

There were a few small hikes/trails to see a better view.

We saw big horn sheep, mule deer, prairie dogs and buffalo here.

And more snow.

Enough snow to show some cool contrasts.

What a wonder nature is.

These trees are Juniper Trees. The birds eat the berries and drop their seeds and are responsible for planting more trees in these canyons.

I LOVE the fragrance from these Juniper tree. Arches National Park also had the Juniper trees.

My new favorite.

These are the berries.

I was happy going on all the short little hikes to look over the canyons.

Most of the National parks had really nice trails.

I didn't notice these signs until my husband pointed them. Often I would go on the trail and he would read the signs – about the history etc.

I love that these guys were just enjoying the sun and relaxing in it.

Beauty in their ragged uniqueness.

And I loved these bare wild trees. My husband thought they were dead. I hope they sprout leaves this summer. I have no idea what sorta trees they are – but they had character.

Mule deer not caring about the vehicles that drive slowly by.

This was our last spot of interest. After this there were many miles of fields – mostly free of snow. We didn't hit snow on the side of the road until Minneapolis. And of course more trees the further north you go.

We did 5 national parks, a couple of state parks and 6 states. Next time I will research the area we are heading to a little better. Find out fun places of interests and see when they open.

All in all we had a wonderful time and it was good to step out of "waiting for spring".

We returned to Spring in full download.

While it is good to go, it is always wonderful to be back home.

April 13, 2023
Heading East

It was a breath of fresh air to leave the city behind and back to the mountain drives – heading towards the Tetons and Yellowstone.

Soon we were on a desolate stretch of road – miles and miles of seemingly black and white.

Beautiful in its simplicity.

Our intention was to head into the Teton Mountains – Jackson Hole and up through the south east corner of Yellowstone.

We spent the night in a small town heading north to Jackson.

In the morning we continued North seeing more incredible mountain sights.

We could see the traces of recent snows – but the roads were bare and the skies were clear.

I'll be honest, I was a bit concerned to be heading towards the mountains again – and seeing them snowcovered.

The skiing appears to be in town in Jackson Hole. This ski hill was closing on Sunday – we were there on Saturday.

This is the Million Dollar Cowboy bar – that my husband remembers when he was young going to. 40 plus years later and it is still a popular watering hole.

Around the town square they had these antler arches. Very western.

Leaving Jackson Hole heading up to the Tetons, the snowbanks were so high, we didn't explore too much – we couldn't see over them and it was cloudy – so not to much to see.

Thankfully it wasn't snowing – but you can see they had just gotten a whole bunch – which is why the Road that passes through Yellowstone was closed and would be until late May.

They had it open for a few miles; but there wasn't much to see besides the snow.

Just to give you an idea.

And once you left the mountain tops, back to dry roads. It would seem impossible that we were just in snow higher than our car.

So we then decided to hit Custer Park and the Badlands heading East.

April 12, 2023
Stir my Soul More

After Zion, we headed north to the Great Salt Lake. It was nothing like I expected.

The day we were there, many small birds (maybe ducks) were dead on the beach.

The smell alone made it a less than desirable lake.

There was an open pit mine near by – we were a week early – for the three hour tour.

Again, IF you plan – these things you would know. Next time. I will have to do some research before we leave home.

Also by the beach we were at was a Music Venue.

These mountains were in our windshield for miles.

It got a bit crazy around Salt Lake City. We drove through and went to the Salt Lake First

It was a bit hazy – but we got the idea of the lake.

At an average water level of 4,200 feet, the lake is approximately 75 miles long and 30 miles wide, with 335 miles of shoreline.

Rugged Beaches here – there is an Island called Antelope Island, where they have better beaches. We choose not to go drive up there.

This is another section, you can get to the water easily; but the smell of rotting birds made it less desirable. We take for granted the pristine beauty and clarity of Lake Superior. I can't imagine swimming here – but the gentleman who took our Park Fee – said he does. And, that you can tell where you have a little cut, the salt gets into the wound.

This was the music venue. There was a gentleman there watching the gate – expecting crowds of young folk.

We then drove to the mine – to discover we were a week early – so we decided to explore the Mormon Church. We didn't find the mega church; but found the city block where an older church was and their business offices and conference buildings. They take up at least a whole city block.

It was weird to have the church surrounded by a fence – not real welcoming.

Yet inside there were young folk willing and ready to talk about their religion.

I was intrigued enough to enter and see what was behind the fence. The flowers were the most welcome sight. They smelled so delicious.

They are a little beaten down – they were recovering from the latest snowfall.

Nature is my religion – and the church felt like a dismal place after the garden – let alone all the wonderful landscapes in the national parks.

This is the church on Temple Street. There were young girls – so innocent looking – doing their duty of sharing the message.

One of their church's business offices/conference center. The religion is a big business -

"Citing some former employees of the fund, the WSJ report at the time said that the Mormon Church's investment fund, Ensign Peak Advisors, had assets worth about $80 billion to $100 billion as of 2019, which easily surpass some of the biggest funds in the world such as Harvard University's endowment…"

This was in a dome shaped building next to the church. More young girls ready and willing to talk. A man was playing an organ. The stage and lights seemed out of place.

I am glad I saw it. It was Easter weekend, so perhaps they were getting ready for a show/service.

I know I am so jaded when it comes to religion. But the contrast between nature and religion and what parts of it stirred my soul. I felt breathless and inspired by nature – and the Mormon church and city block of buildings that supported it – left me feeling its pretense.

They say that less than 50% of the folks who live in and around Salt Lake are Mormons and the numbers are decreasing.

Knowing how a child can be made to follow any cult they are born into – and its costs. I was relieved to have the city in our rearview.

It was refreshing to see city spaces – of art.

For some reason these expressions stir my soul more.

April 12, 2023
More Left to Come Back For.

After Bryce, we drove to Zion. This park the road goes through most of it. At the Western end you can then take a shuttle to see deeper in to the park. They no longer allow traffic to just drive through this section – unless you are a guest at their lodge and perhaps camping.

What I didn't know, until we got on the shuttle, was that you couldn't just hike when you wanted. The hiking reservations had to be made one day in advance. So, needless to say I didn't hike.

There was one I wanted to see – the Narrows. I wouldn't have hiked in the water, but would have liked to see the beginning of it.

I had bought a lifetime pass for National Parks and this really came in handy – for all the parks were now free. Or we got our money back – more or less.

Again nature was so incredible. It was actually hard to take it all in.

This tunnel was 1.1 miles long. There were windows here and there. I tried to capture the windows in the side of the huge rock mountain – but I was shooting into the sun.

Just above the green is one of the windows. It is crazy to think how they made a tunnel and how it doesn't collapse with the weight of the mountain on it. This too gave my nerves a bit of worry. I just kept being curious and the nervousness took the backseat.

It was a nice day for a ride through Zion.

These goats enjoyed climbing the rocks.

It was simply amazing to see such sights.

I can see why these parks are crowded and how they have to start limiting the folks who are out and about on the trails etc. Yet at the same time, we who road trip without reservations and go where our curiosity takes us – get caught missing out.

At least there still was plenty to see from the car.

There is much to see in this part of Utah. More left to come back for.

April 11, 2023
Our Car Moving Forward.

We left the kids and headed south into Wyoming – on our way into Colorado.

There are a lot of fields to travel through between South Dakota and Wyoming.

Dropping into Colorado, the fun began.

It felt good to be in a snowless place – or almost. I did a short hike along the path and over the river.

This was a neat art installation at a park along a river – on our way to Estes Park CO.

It was fun seeing the mountain goats – near Rocky Mountain State Park. (Which was closed due to snow)

It was exciting to see this Elk – he was with a few ladies.

I walked down a few streets in Estes Park and happened upon a cool gallery. I LOVED the colors and the wonderful pieces of glass.

I can see how these would be super fun to create.

It was just fun to be in the presence of some cool art things!

We had a nice dinner at a Nepal Diner that evening. I had planned on going into town again in the morning, but….

We woke up to this sight out of our Hotel window. The night before you could see the mountains in the distance – now it was hidden behind the falling snow.

Falling snow.

And we had opted to take off the winter tires before leaving – so with summer tires and mountain roads. My option was to stay put. To weather out the late spring storm by exploring town and maybe going to see a movie.

My husband's idea was to drive out of it.

And, so we did.

Down the mountain roads winding and climbing – with cars and trucks racing past. Oh my heart. It was bad enough on the flat interstate – I had been in terror. Now. Now on the mountain roads. It was so insane- it was hysterical – funny but so not funny.

You never knew what was around the corner. More slush, more snow coming down, too many vehicles etc. Plus it felt to me – like we were all racing down the mountain. I purposely didn't look over to see how fast my husband was going. I tried to breathe calm into our car.

When there were snowbanks, I actually felt better. Something between me and the edge of the mountain. I would not have dreamed we would run into this sorta weather again – after the Fargo Bismarck stretch.

What was so triggering for me, was the unknown and weird way it would be. We'd go from dry roads and then back to slush. Just when I would think we'd be out of it, up over a summit we would go and more snow and slush.

Driving down from Estes Park into Boulder and down to Golden was all on slushy roads. Winding turning. We did not see the beauty that I am sure is there on a nice dry clear day. But, I was happy to be down – more or less. Well – I thought I was done with the snowy roads. They followed us through Vail and pass what I am sure are delightful sights – on a clear day.

West on I-70 we drove – with little surprises of snow along the way. But, we also saw some incredible mountains – when it cleared.

We stayed in a cool mountain town and I was feeling relaxed that the snow was behind us.

Lots of the western towns have incredible street art.

Cheyenne, where we stayed the first night after leaving the kids – had wonderful murals on its buildings. We also toured the Train Museum which was neat. To see how the railway opened up the west.

After a day of mountain roads and snow – was longing for the hundreds of miles flat plains we traveled through.

My husband said it takes you two days of driving before you start to see some spectacular views.

By the way riding with a retired snowplow driver – has its advantages and downsides.

He appeared to have no fear of snow, mountains and speeding vehicles.

And on a side note. The mountain road we came down – a semi truck went off the road coming up. His cab was hanging off the road – his trailer and not sure what else kept it from going all the way over. We saw more cars in the ditch, more accidents happened. There were travel delays on the opposite side of the road.

Oh, and this is an interstate. So we had two lanes going down. Cars would fly by you – with confidence of a fool.

An experience I will not soon forget – and I am grateful for my husbands ability to keep our car moving forward.

April 11, 2023
Beyond Retirement

Life is interesting when you get into your retirement years. The time opens up and responsibilities fade away – and you now get to choose what you want to do.

While freedom sounds good – I feel that it is also complicated.

I believe I was able to hide behind responsibilities and that it is easier to just get in line and do a job. It is much harder to not waste a life.

A part of me wants to make a difference in my life. I want to live a life I don't regret.

This first year I learned I am a homebody.

I can let time slip by being lazy.

I don't want to coast my last years of my life – I want to be intentional.

I want to have dreams and then fulfill them.

I don't even know though, what my dreams are.

I think dreaming was a luxury, I never entertained.

I first need to learn how to dream and seek out things that will add color and texture to my life.

I have been responsible for others for so so many years. Responsibility overshadows dreams.

I don't know if I was taught not to dream; but I wasn't taught to dream.

It seems fanciful and nonsensical.

Like life wasn't meant for dreams but built for responsibility.

Live like you are dying becomes more real after retirement. You enter into the stage of the end. There isn't another big milestone after retirement – this is it – until we exit the stage.

I want live live.

To do things that have meaning.

and depth to me.

As I exited out of my dysfunctional family – I was very engaged in doing what was best to leave a legacy that was less toxic. What I may have failed to do was to show how to live a fanciful life.

A life of dreams, adventures and joy and love.

How now to fancy up my life and add tone and texture and glitter.

It was important for me to live my truth, to find my authenticity – to drill down to the core of who I am and heal my brokenness. And, it is equally important now to have fun. To live joyfully and dream of fun things.

I get a catch in my throat of how responsible I have been and how dreamless.

There is a feeling of guilt even contemplating fanciful just for me. Or gifting me and myself nonsensical adventures.

I don't yet know who I will be when I grow up.

Perhaps we have dreams – dreams for our children and our grandchildren. We have dreams of being an example of a mom who does hard things. Just not fancy dreams.

Instead of retirement years, we should call these dream years.

Retirement means to stop working. There should be another word for it – when we now have time to dream.

I looked up the word dream and the second part is this "indulge in daydreams or fantasies about something greatly desired. "she had dreamed of a trip to Italy."

Indulging in daydreams or fantasies isn't something I have done – especially just for me.

Just for me does seem indulgent.

I am going to become indulgent and dream.

Learning to dream beyond retirement.

March 8, 2023
Be Yourself

"Every year you make a resolution to change yourself. This year make a resolution to be yourself." Author Unknown

My granddaughter and I were in the basement creating – there is a chair that is painted with a collage of words – "Be the Real you" is one of the phrases. She asked, "Grandma what does that mean?"

I said, "When you feel sad – just be sad – don't pretend to be happy." She says, "Oh".

(Here I am at my display of my art therapy quilts. Being Me.)

I know that sounds simplistic – and I also know it isn't always easy to just be your real self. However, life is so so much more simple when you can.

It may be my age – but the older I get the less patience I have pretending or hiding.

Making a resolution to Be Yourself – will be life changing.

It reminds me of the year Martha Beck had – where she didn't lie. Even the little ones – where you say you're okay, when you are not.

(This was posted on Instagram – capturing me on my way to a ladies camping trip.Totally winning at summer!)

At first it may seem uncomfortable, especially if you are used to hiding your real self – but over time, as you become more real – your life will be more comfortable for you to be in it.

As I look back over 2022 – looking through my photos, which are many – I had another wonderful year. Family, Friends, Art and Adventures. Life is good.

I tried new new things and look forward to learning some more.

I had way too much fun – Days of joy = a year of fun.

I am not one who is happy to see this year go – I will hold on to so many memories that I made.

And look forward to making more.

Exploring new rivers.

And Bike paths.

And, hiking trails.

Sharing my Art and finding new friends.

As the new year approaches, I look forward to more of what I love.

May you have a year stuffed full of what makes you You.

Thank you to all who shared your time we me this past year and I look forward to more moments that bring me smiles as I scroll through my photos.

Your year will hold every choice you make – I hope you say yes to doing more of what the real you wants to do.

May your New Year's resolution be – Be Yourself.

December 31, 2022
Sees her Child

My annual correspondence arrives.

"Have a birthday doing what is important to you.

I treasure the memories of your years with our family.

You were a great help and I was proud of all you accomplished.

I am your mother always and my love is forever.

Hugs

Mom"

She pops in every year – a ghost from my past proclaiming her title and love.

Each year it is about how I affected her life, and never about how she impacted mine.

I don’t even know where to begin to begin to process this.

There is always a little girl inside of me that is wanting to be seen.

She holds treasured memories – of the years that wounded me.

Reading her words without knowing the full story, you would think I left a loving mother behind.

This is what disturbs and unsettles me and confounds my mind. Our drastically different perceptions of our relationship.

Surviving my childhood created a woman who was brainwashed and lived in denial. A woman who was unable to see her own children and their needs. A woman who sought approval and was a people pleaser. One who went against the feelings in her body and chose to be a great help in an abusive family.

A woman who had no idea what love was, how to love – even herself.

The years she treasured – were the same amount of years I lived codependent.

Years I lived in a cult-like religion – without a voice or a choice of my own body, mind and soul – she treasures years that I see were void of me.

The past 18 years of our separation have been to undo the damage – of all those years.

It cost me dearly to be in her family.

And, it cost me dearly to leave.

However my journey has not been for naught.

My children and grandchildren really will have years they will treasure in homes of love.

They have parents to feel proud of - instead of shame.

I love that their hearts can be bursting with love.

It is my hope of all hopes they won't ever have to live the shame of being raised with abuse.

My heart weeps that they will not have to leave their families – and live an awkward life of estrangement.

They won't have to feel the empty spot where parental love should live.

They will instead enjoy years of sibling friendship and memories of real treasures.

Not memories tainted by abuse and toxic dysfunction.

They will know love, real love, forever love by the actions of family who puts a child's welfare first. A treasured love from parents – that is so unfamiliar to me.

A mother's and father's love protects a child; always and forever.

She speaks of my help and accomplishments in the years I was with her family. She speaks nothing of my years after leaving.

She was proud of me then.

She actually loves a version of me that is no longer alive.

Who I am today – is not someone she knows, loves, or even acknowledges.

She is a mother to the girl in her mind.

For that girl – she is her mother always and her love is forever.

But for this me, this girl. The daughter who walked away – I am invisible to her.

She is incapable of seeing me and the reasons I walked away.

What matters most is – I see Me.

The older I get, the more I realize I am one of the lucky ones.

I was able to see.

You cannot change what you don't acknowledge.

I am so happy I don't have her legacy – I have my own.

I am a mother who sees her child.

December 20, 2022
Who Feel Like Home

I was challenged today about not trusting christians. I promised to write it out.

This is my third draft and I think I figured a few things out.

First I will be using my abusive childhood to help illustrate for it shows the dramatic changes of heart.

My last conversation with my mother was her telling me, that we had two different perceptions of my father.

I recall hollering back to her, there is only one – he’s in an orange jumpsuit in the Houghton County Jail. Meaning he no longer is a father – he changed my perception to an abuser.

Is it really possible to see the same thing so drastically different?

At first I thought those who are defending religion were like my mother – defending – her views against mine.

But, then I realized they were more like me, or like I used to be.

I was sold on family and religion. I believed in both – and looking back – I don’t know how I didn’t know.

I also thought that I was the loving one – that I brought love to my family. But that isn’t true. I didn’t know love. I only knew what love wasn’t.

Did my family and religion change?

Or did I.

What I believe to be more true is that I discovered love. I learned to love me. I learned about boundaries and what my own truths were – I questioned my own values and perceptions – I watched my own actions how much I lived my own truths and spoke them out loud.

I believe that my definition of love changed.

My family and my religion did not.

I changed my perceptions.

About love and about my self.

In my world, and in my heart of hearts – I feel I am one with reality.

As for not trusting christians. I am still doubtful.

I would change it to being skeptical of most.

I am grateful for those who shared their words, their faith, and love of religion. You have added a gradation to my painting a wide sweep – there are tones. So not all the same.

I see myself in you.

I also see my old habits of black and white, with us or against us – sentiments showing.

A bad habit of mine.

For I do see the world more nuanced.

With a heap of skepticism on religions.

Perhaps our definitions of love are in various tones as well. We all decide what love is.

I still feel the uncomfortable space that opens up when I am asked about God and Religion.

Equally when I asked about family. Being estranged isn't the common path.

Many who have not left church or family will not be as sensitive to the phrases, questions of others. How a simple statement – excludes you.

Do I trigger doubts in them or do they trigger doubts in Me?

I didn’t try to change my childhood family – instead I began changing my own legacy within my home. By loving me – it is my hope that love will be passed down.

I am redefining what love is – to me.

How love feels and how it engages with others.

I vowed not to let the legacy of abuse define me. What it actually was was a vow to find love – be love. My greatest legacy to pass to my children is love.

A love that is accepting, kind, peaceful, joyful, allowing – natural love without constraints of any sort.

I believe my childhood family believes in their definition of love and they find it there.

As for religion – I have zero desire to find a new religion.

It isn’t a place of love for me.

My church is where love is.

While the sentiments of my previous post is about religion and christians – What I believe the source of both is – is love.

Each person and the church they follow – has a definition of love – a sentiment that has standards and morals. Your love matches.

The old adage, "Birds of the feather flock together" has relevance. The flock is what they called parishioners in the past. Who you fly with matters.

My flock is small – misfits – who find themselves outside of what is called normal – the imperfect souls.

The tagline of this blog "I M Perfect and it is impossible not to be.

We fly with those who feel like home.

November 30, 2022
A mask I wore

I think the value of a christian is more in the eye of the beholder. It appears quite different from the outside looking in.

I feel I am less in the eyes of christians.

And more in my own.

Back when the label fit me – I wasn't that kind – nor was I loving.

I was judgmental and had a value system based on my limited beliefs. I categorized people based on the rules I believed in.

Rarely did I see the person, or their life and pathway they walked.

Okay I didn't really see anyone other than those who believed like me.

I disregarded many or felt them to be less.

My worth was not in question – theirs was.

What is so interesting to me sitting on this side of Christianity – is how I see myself. Or more how I weigh myself and who I am.

When you are part of a group, you become lazy in yourself. You are on the team and do what the team does.

Especially in the strict religion I grew up in.

There was little free will.

Making a choice for myself was unheard of – all actions sifted down through the veil of our religion. What to do and what not to do. Who to be with and who not to be with. Where to go and where not to go. We followed.

On the outside of religion is a vast land of possibilities and choices.

Each person who comes along is no longer seen through the veil of the church.

But they are seen as I see myself.

It feels good to me to be without the burden of being a christian.

I wonder what label carries the most weight with me?

Who do I identify with most – which part of me is mostly me.

Sitting here I don't feel any label over another.

Who I am seems to change from moment to moment and who I am with.

I feel this body – even more now as it ages.

I feel the sense of self inside.

I don't have a name for it.

I feel the accumulated past of me.

I don't know how I would now label me or others anymore.

What matters to me most perhaps is truth, authenticity, realness – just being yourself.

I value a person who wears no masks.

A person who is comfortable in their skin and in their lives.

After leaving the church, it amazed me how some people are lost behind their religion. That there is not a separate being. Just as I once was lost – to me.

When I left, I had to find out who I was.

It was thrilling and terrifying.

The other side of christianity – feels like love to me.

Unconditional – accepting.

The god I learned about was not unconditional or accepting – let alone loving.

The christian god I learned about – didn't feel loving.

Hence, I don't feel like being a christian is a good thing.

I don't know what to say to someone who identifies as a christian.

I don't know what that means, truly to me or how they move in the world.

What I know to be true in my experience, is that a whole bunch of good christians knew about the abuse in my childhood home, blessed it away and moved on – repeatedly.

It is no wonder I don't trust christians.

Their religion told them what to do.

I too learned the ways of blindness, of forgiving and forgetting, of seeing the world through the dark drape of the cult. Christianity didn't serve me well.

When I meet someone who claims they are a christian, I try to see if there is a separate being. A person behind that label.

Who are they?

How do they love?

How do they see others?

How do they see me?

I wonder what other label carries as much weight or worth as a Christian.

It has more value to other christians than those of us who are not.

I feel free, kind and more loving being a non-christian.

A concept that some are terrified of.

Interestingly, the religion didn't actually give me worth nor was I less for leaving.

I found that christianity wasn't who I was – the real me lay dormant – underneath the brainwashing.

To me christianity was a mask I wore.

November 28, 2022

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