Blissfully Blessed.

Sunday fun day was a scheduled family day, here for us.

It's been awhile since we had one of these days- so we made a point to dedicate Sunday just for us, 5 Massies.

First, we shut off the alarm clocks and slept in.

Then we lazily sipped on coffee and worked as a team building  this big ol egg scramble thing.

And as we sat down to eat, the teenage boys got into a little tiff. Today, I can't even remember what it was about, but needless to say- it was bit loud, and a little ugly.  (Living in an apartment on the 3rd floor in North Dakota, definitely has been interesting living arrangements for the hubs, 3 teen kids, and I.)

 After a long walk for the one teen, and a little family meeting, our family day was a little delayed, but adventure was awaiting.

Before we left the dad in this house, told the kids that trip day, was going to be without electronic gadgets, homework, and books. Just us 5, the vehicle, and the road we were about to travel. 

Oh boy.

So, we jumped into Arnie (our vehicles name) and off we headed to the local gas station and daily perks coffee shop for some drinks along the way. 

Thirty minutes west down the interstate is Medora. A touristee town in the badlands. Also, in this town is the Theodore Roosevelt National Park, known for its beautiful views and wild animals- partically Buffalo.

And, that my friends was our adventure for the day.

So, we cruised along the desserted park, counting the mule deer, and laughing at the prarie dogs. After a couple hours, a few wild horses, and one lonely bison, the sun was starting to set there on the badlands. 

And, I had a moment.

I sat back and watched the hubs and our dolly (Leanna,11) take pictures with her new camera, and the boys pretending to shoot the prarie dogs (yes my boys are pro hunting carnivore eating men). 

I sat back, and smiled as big as the sunset sky that was filled with every kind of color. (You know the kind of smile where your mouth hurts from shining?!) At that moment, my heart sang, one of those sweet soft songs that now plays on the local radio. Joy filled me up. I felt it from the bottom of my toes, to the top of my crown. 

I am truly blessed.

Blessed, grateful to have these God  given moments.  Blessed to have an arnie, that can take us on these adventures. Blessed, to have the delicious soy latte taste on my palate. Blessed to have this earthly family, to teach me how and what unconditional love is. Blessed, even for North Dakota to have the pesky prarie dogs to snicker about. Blessed for the sun going down, and the moon coming up. Blessed to have this life on earth.

I've felt this blessed, blissful feeling before. And  darnit I'm working on consciously creating and enjoying more- it feels amazing!

But to be honest, in the past, when I feel this joy-I usually am waiting for the next ball to drop.  I've always prepared myself for the fear ridden what ifs, or the it's too good to be true.  I would spend the time, creating in my mind what could go wrong in the future.  

I mean, how could I just be this lucky?

And, well, I don't know what happened, but it finally hit me that day that all we have is today, and it was our family day.  And, instead of fearing the future, it was time.  Time for me to be grateful for what is, now at this moment.

And, well our family is loud.  We argue on Sunday mornings, we might need to take walks to have space, and cool off. But, we are imperfectly, perfect. I know there will be  many more morning squabbles, and whole hearted adventure days- either way,

Yes, I am blissfully blessed!

Till next time friends, wishing you beautiful imperfectly perfect adventure days!

Xxoo Michelle, the girl who is learning to run with dresses on.

        The one and only lonely bison

 

Climb every Mountain.

I climbed a mountain this weekend.

Okay, honestly, I climbed a big fossil holding badland, in Montana at the Makoshika State Park.

 Let me explain.

I knew I needed to go west this past weekend, and I knew I needed it to be alone. So, Saturday morning I grabbed a latte from the local expresso drive thru, and headed west. I had thrown an overnight bag in the back of Arnie (new name for the new car) and wah la, me and the wind were sailing side by side on the interstate.

There was no planning. Friday, I brought the idea up to my family. Saturday, I knew Montana was calling-just didn't know where. I truly felt like it was time to get in touch with the big sky.

You see, it had been a week. I could make excuses of the waning moon, or the weather, or the fact that I was feeling so very alone...with life, with where I was in life, where I dream to be, with being understood, with, k, get the point? I'll stop there.

So, latte in hand, thoughts in my head, I drove.

A few miles down the road, a bird flew up in front of arnies windshield.  It looked like a dalmation dog, but a bird. White, with dark black spots. I laughed to myself about how alike that bird and I are, mostly white and pure-but with some dark sides. Dark places, black holy spots, shadows, fears- anyways, getting off track here,
but overall it gave me courage to see that the bird was still able to fly.

Soon, I had hit the Montana state limit.  It seemed like minutes later I saw the beautiful big badlands, and a sign for a state park- and  felt called, so I decided to pull off the exit.

Glendive Montana is a quant town. It got a whole bunch of bars, a new subway sign, and a bunch of cowboys walking the streets. Typical out west fashion. As I drove, I  followed the signs to the state park in the town.  I pulled in, and it took my breath away, looking at the beautiful bad lands. I hurried out, and headed into the tourist information center, and asked the first ranger who I saw, what were his requests for a good view.

He said up. And, so I went.

Two miles up ahead the road was closed (due to the winter season). and you needed to hike.  My overnight bag consisted of a pair of tennis shoes and a fleece jacket, but thankfully the weather was on my side. Sunny, 40 degrees, perfect. I parked Arnie, and out I started. I can humbly say, I have never really hiked. There were no ski poles or hiking boots. But, there was me, determined to get to the top.

So, I started the hike up.  And, after a few steps, I felt like I was one with the road.  I concentrated on my labor breathing, and my eyes opened up to the beauty all around me. The sound of birds in the distance, the smell of crisp beautiful open air. Ahh, did it feel good, to be alive, and outside. 

A little ways up the road, I came to this beautiful big slate color rock.  As I took my first break, I let go. I cried, not just for me there, I cried for all of  life that have ever felt  broken. And, the rock, well it just hung out there and took it all away. And, as the tears stopped and I was ready to move on, I decided to take a picture.  Forty shots later, I still was getting my shadow (thankyou sun) with the rock. You see, just as I am not a hiker, I am also not a photographer. At the 39th shot, I realized my shadow was supposed to be there, because like the bird flying up in the windshield, that rock-held my dark side.

I got to the top in about an hour. And, it was gorgeous. A few times I had to plunge through snow up to my knees, and a time or two fear came in, reminding me how alone I was in this big park.

But the view from the top, was so worth the wet socks! I felt alive!

Soon, I found a big tree, and gently let my back be supported by it. Once a dear friend told me, if you need to feel grounded, lean against a tree (works every time, FYI)
There I sat, and watched life, go by. Birds, come and go, making there beautiful chirping noises. The badlands, so strong, supportive, and each so different, making me feel so protected. The cactus blowing in the breeze. 

And I thought,

if someone would've told me when I was 33, I would be sitting against a tree, tears in my eyes, overlooking some badlands in some state park by myself in Montana, I would've laughed, out loud. 

But, you see. I soon realized that was why I needed to jump in the car and drive with the wind to Montana in the first place.

I got caught up in the future. I got stuck, fearful-wondering where my life was leading me. I knew my hopes and dreams, I just didn't know how to get there. And, I was stuck, this week, sometimes this month, heck lets be honest, years, thinking in my head how my life was going to turn out.

What path was I taking?

Wait, why does it matter?

And, I realized again, we have this moment, today, this very breath.

Well, that day I decided, I am taking the path that brings me back down the road.

How did I let myself get  to the point of not enjoying the moment? Yes, its liberating to dream big, but to be fearful, of the future, why?  This is my dark side, this is my shadow. And, well its time to embrace all of me. But, dog gon it, the shadow can go hang our with the rock now, or fly with the bird- (see I'm even giving it choices.)

Truly, shadow aside,  its about the now. Surendering to the moment. And, at that moment, I was surrendering to walking down a slippery, wintery, road with tennis shoes, and wet socks.

As I finished the climb, opened the door to arnie and jumped in, I realized.  I am safe wherever I am, I can bring Joy to whatever is in this very moment, and  its time to climb every mountain in life, with or without your dark side. And know matter how long the hike takes its worth it...because the view at the top, is gorgeous.

Till next time friends, keep climbin.


xoxo
Michelle, the girl who is learning to run with dresses on.

The road traveled with my voice..

In third grade I had a favorite person in my little rural school, Mr. Lundin- who was my speech pathologist.

And, while the rest of the class would study spelling words- I would spend 30 minutes behind closed doors with the attentive, big dark mustache- speech man.

I would read sentences and play games concentrating on how I said my r's and s's. Railroad, was wailwoad. Santa, was zanta. After many sessions, and when I set my mind to it- ( I would consciously have tothink about how to speak), railroad was pronounced with the most beautiful R sound out there. And, when the half hour was over I would walk back to class with a beautiful new pencil, eraser, or some precious gadget.

You see, I love to speak. I love to talk. And, from an early age I remember talking so darn fast, (I could have gotten a job as an auctioneer as a little tike).

Fast forward- speech therapy, learning how to slow down and sound out words.

And, then in high school came speech class- my most terrifying, but favorite.

I would practice those speeches staring at myself in the mirror, I would have the note cards written out in the most perfect writing, and then, my name was called to stand up in front of the class and speak. My voice would shake, my hands would tremble, my mind would forget the notecards and the memorized speech, and my heart would take my voice over. If it was a speech on Ben Franklin, or how to make puppy chow- somehow through the nerves, from the heart, the words would come easy.

I don't remember when I quit talking. Anyone that knows me is laughing right now thinking I never stopped! :) 

Your right, I just quit talking bout the big stuff, or I wouldn't talk at all.

You see, the truth is I love peace. And, at times it's been my biggest challenge to speak, knowing I would offend, hurt, worry or scare someone. 

So, I would keep quiet or spend my energy talking about other people, (and fyi- I would call it concern). This person has a sick baby,  this friend seems depressed, this relatives  cousins neighbor is sick with some big illness. That's what I spoke. I would simply forget, to give those troubles to God.

Now looking back, I had it all wrong. 

This blog, is what's putting me on the right track. For, these are my stories, my words, my truth- written with my heart open from the one and only, me.

This being said, I realize some of my words, some of my writing- isn't for everyone, and that's ok. Some, might not understand, my journey-and that's truly perfect too.

You see writing my truth, well it empowers me just as I'm standing in speech class, speaking. And, that is why this blog thing is for me, right now.

So friends, speak your truth in whatever way you can. And, if, the words come out a little too fast- and if railroad ends up wailwoad, well just love you, and the road your on.

Till next time,

Xxoo

Michelle, the girl who is learning to run with dresses on...

*picture shows me and my dolls (daughter) on our road trip last weekend.

Enjoy the road traveled!

Let my voice shake and the light shine in.

At first, let me say. I write this with tears in my eyes and my heart open asking, praying for more light to shine in.  For strength, loving words, and guidance with continuing this journey of feeding my own soul. And, for all my readers out there, who are learning how to feed there's. Let's all love, and support each other. With a grateful heart for all of you, I share my truth.

My name is Michelle, and I have been abused.

Some of my first memories as a young girl are being touched inappropriately by an elderly man. I remember being "scared stiff". I recall him thinking it was funny, the smirk on his face. I remember being confused, thinking, wondering if anyone knew. I remember feeling dirty. Writing this now, I can still smell his aftershave. The loudness of his booming voice, and me...well praying  that all this would just go away. I was young, small, I didn't  know my strength.

Fast forward to this week.  I went to visit another elderly man, in the family tree- and got ridiculed and called fat, with comments about my "chubby belly". I stood there; not able to move-wearing what I thought was my new slimming black coat. And, the same emotions took over,  I was a little girl covered with shame, sadness and anger. I stood there frozen. I wanted to stick up both my middle fingers and turn away, and run out of the door.

But, I didn't. I stood there with a fake smile, and took it in. 

You see, I was raised to respect both of these men. I was told that they were my elders, and I should love them. I was told to shake there hands, mentioning Gods Peace.

And, all my life..I've done just that.

I have compassion.  I can make all the excuses for them, how one was mentally ill, or the other was upset with there own self image, there own "chubby belly". 

Then to flip the coin, and feel, compassion for me. And, the truth is- it's so hard to have. I  know I don't want to be a victim anymore. I want to move on. But, I understand, that these moments, will forever be a part of me, and my story.

I sit here and think- what's the good that can take from this, what is the learning? 

And this is what I came up with.

I can talk to a shrink, take some antidepressants, I can aromatherapy up some essential oils. I can get cranial sacral body work, I can read self help books, meditate, yoga- you name It, but until I, stand up for me, until I use my own voice, until I refuse to be around anyone that isn't for my highest good, well I'm still Michelle, abused.

Because, truth is- I let this happen. Michelle as the young girl, and Michelle as the adult.

 I know it's time to look in the mirror, and forgive myself for not using my voice, for keeping these protective layers on my body, and it's something I promise to keep working on, daily. 

But, why- do I keep putting myself in these situations? Obligation, wishful thinking of some kind of corrupted love, or it's the "right" thing to do?

Well, today, I say. I am done, with all those things.

A wise doctor once told me, ..Michelle, take everyone out of your life that isn't 100 percent for you. 

Thankyou Doc, the best prescription you could give this empathic, sensitive, soul. It's time, to truly fill the script.

 

It's time to unconditionally love me, to do daily what is for my highest good.

 It's time for the Michelle that is a soft feminine lady, that just loves, to show. For, she will no longer need an armour on, because she choses love, not abuse.

And, that soft feminine lady- well she always has her middle fingers, if need be.

So, for now, I'm learning- to use my voice. To love me, stick up for me, to embrace all parts of me that have served me-including  my "chubby belly". 

And, to speak love. First for me. I truly believe your body hears everything, and it's time for my body and my soul to know that I believe, and I'm trying daily to  love, honour, and embrace, and be its biggest fan.

Yes,  friends, now it's time to feed my own soul, by using my voice.

My voice, well it's shaky, but I'm here, I'm ready, I'm open, and it's time...let the light shine in..

Xxoo

Michelle, the girl who is learning to run with dresses on..