I was inspired to explore my feelings about this dream and nightmare from a YouTube video I watched by Electra Dashwood. You should check it out!
Tropical Travel Vlogger Trunk
This Fashion Polly-esque playset-looking trunk may look cute and fantastical, but in my dream, it was full of pure nightmares. This dream sequence was so vivid I woke feeling like my life was falling apart, all because of this Pandora’s box. Definitely the effect of some stressful personal situations I had in my life at the time. I’ve been feeling waves of anxiety lately. Although I deeply disliked this trunk in my dream, in art form I wish I had this little gem to store my fabric because it is delightfully bright and vivid. This was drawn in chalk pastel in February 2024.
Cloud Drawing Messenger
This was another odd dream, with my dad, whom I don’t often dream about because I honestly don’t have that many memories with him. After a big boundary breakthrough, I had this dream in which my dad would only communicate with me through watercolor clouds expressing his emotions about what I shared. This was such a cool dream because usually all my dad and I do if we have an emotional conversation, it is in anger and yelling. But this dream was delicate and uplifting. We communicated, and I wish this dream had been real life. The clouds were recreated in chalk pastel in December 2023.
I have this new widget on my phone, the verse of the day, and what I love about this new widget is that I can’t accidentally close out the notification like I can with the Bible App’s push notification. I’ve done that so many times by accident and it frustrates me because I like having the verse of the day reminder at the top of my phone. Why do you ask? These verse-of-the-day notifications are sometimes like a voice in the wilderness, paraphrasing Isaiah 40:3. It cuts through the chaos, the world’s inhumanity, and all that life throws at us. It reminds me to stop and remember who stands beside me through every moment – Jesus.
Today’s verse of the day is a verse I remember from childhood, it was the theme verse of my Bible cover. It was shortened to include the first phrase of the sentence – “a friend loves at all times” and featured a cartoon-style illustration of a group of kids with their arms around each other like they were posing for a photo. They were united in love for one another. I liked that case because it reminded me that I could feel the fellowship I longed for being an only child with my friends. I could get a taste of the community my friends and cousins had instead of feeling like the odd one out.
It wasn’t until much later, it could easily be my Bible read-through in 2020-2021, that I understood there was more to the verse. There is more to this verse, and the entire second half of a sentence that fills me with emptiness not because I am an only child, but understanding what the verse means – family united. Recently there has been a lot of family in my life again and it has taken me some time to get used to having people around again.
In the last ten years, my family has seemed more like Coyote to my Road Runner.
There has been a lot of betrayal, suspicious decisions, and big divides. When I read that verse this morning I was struck by how I associate friends with the security of family and family with the cloak of the adversary in my life. The villain mostly instead of the place I run to. Am I really that jaded? Cause that sounds jaded and not like a person in a healthy place. I shouldn’t be scared of family, but I am. I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t want to be let down.
A longtime friend and I just ended our friendship and the weirdest part about the whole thing has been the rollercoaster of emotions flooding my mind. I feel grief like she died, but she didn’t our relationship did. I feel like I lost my sister, but ironically what sent me running for the hills in our disagreement was how much she began to remind me of my sister, my dad’s youngest. We have different moms. We have a lot of baggage and the relationship is quite toxic.
In the final days of our friendship, I was freaked out once I saw how much our friendship had grown into a toxic state mirroring my relationship with my sister. The crossover from a safe friendship to a toxic family dynamic frightened me. Ironically since we had to part ways because we couldn’t seem to right our problems, I have been grieved about losing a “sister” figure in that friendship. Even though the friendship was unhealthy for a long time, I felt a sisterhood with her because she wasn’t actually related to me, and I overlooked the ways we were unhealthy for each other because it is safer to cling to this faux-sister thing than to leave it behind. I completely wish my friend well and want her to find a support system that works better for her because the toxic dynamic that we brought out in each other was no good for anyone.
And yet, I find myself feeling like that little kid again with the Bible cover hoping I find a new community even though I do have a community right in front of me, but some of that community involves family. I’m definitely supposed to learn something here.
So, why am I sharing all this? When I saw this verse pop up on my widget I was struck by how serious this is for our communities and our world. Family should not be the ones who hurt us, but they can and they do, on varying levels of seriousness, some being very, very serious levels. God gave us the structure of family and of friendship. They are inherently good things. But we use them for bad because we are fallen humans. We are capable of creating unrepairable damage, where I stand with several family members and it sucks knowing that we may never be able to repair this on Earth.
I think being a Peacemaker, as God calls us to be is more than just finding reconciliation, I think it’s also about filling those gaps in society. Some people have family members who have done evil things and their actions and continued choices have made it impossible to reconcile on Earth as it stands, it’s all in God’s hands for now. Being a peacemaker does not mean forcing insincere apologies, or forcing families back into dangerous, even deadly situations. Being a peacemaker challenges us to bring God’s kingdom here. To love, to comfort, to fill the gaps, and to show who God is and what He freely gives to us all if we accept Him. None of us have earned it or deserve it and that’s not the point. The point is to glorify God and allow Him to transform our lives and our world. Being a willing vessel is what is important.
I was watching a documentary last night called Jonathan & Jesus, it’s on Amazon Prime, and in it, Jonathan Roumie met with the leader of Civil Righteousness, Jonathan Tremaine Thomas, and spoke about what being a peacemaker is and I was struck by how much daily myself and the world around me misses the point of what that means. Especially for me, I think of my family. It’s like we have divorced ourselves from acknowledging that is part of the Christian life. But in the early church, Christians were the peacemakers, the outposts of hope in dire situations like plagues. There are a lot of things, I remembered, that we are missing the plot about. Some days it feels overwhelming to think about creating change, even in my own life not just in my community, or my country.
This verse of the day really humbled me. The documentary humbled me. The words of Jonathan Roumie, Brandon Flowers, Alice Cooper, Jonathan Tremaine Thomas, Francis Chan, etc humbled me. But also filled me with hope and purpose. A reset. I’m resetting a lot this month, I guess between my schedule and my focus. That’s why I love the verse of the day, God speaks through this app and through documentaries, His voice is everywhere as long I listen.
December is a weird month. I like Christmas and in the same breath, all the holiday joy reminds me of loved ones who aren’t with me anymore. The darkness of winter, the time change, and dreary gray days have felt like my mind washing over my environment when I get sad.
My grandma passed away on December 18, a few years ago now. Before she passed, our family holidays moved from being at home to being celebrated at a nursing home because my papa had broken his neck and wasn’t able to recover fully from the injury at 80 years old. The season has felt a little empty now for seven years. It hasn’t been all bad, my husband and I have created new traditions and I’ve found a lot of joy in rejecting the tradition and finding new ways to enjoy the season. Making things and being generous to others, whether in my community or social circle, has been the best way to make this month joyful for me personally.
Potato Technology’s A/W 2022 was about this exact point, I wanted to make things for the people who showered me with love and encouragement as I found my way back from grief to a new normal. The last Christmas season before the pandemic, we made cards for a local nursing home and that is still one of my favorite Christmas memories of the last seven years.
That was the same year my brother came to visit me on Christmas. We never spent a holiday together in our 26 years of being brother and sister. It was cool and also hard to process. I think there will never be enough time or enough normalcy to make my relationship with my brothers feel whole because we didn’t get the chance to have that and had to make our own traditions with our separate moms. My sister’s existence with another mom makes the entire thing more complicated, as I have been both shoehorned into that nuclear family even though I don’t belong and have been passed over for the normalcy of my sister’s two-parent home.
My dad and my stepmom don’t understand boundaries. If I put up a boundary, they tear it down. They even weaponize this time of year to make me feel guilty. Before I cut off contact it was guilt to be at their house in south Georgia for every Thanksgiving and Christmas on my dime. This irks me because they are incredibly rich compared to me and most people in my life and it’s unfair to place these financial and emotional expectations on me. Since I have cut contact because I got tired of the toxic environment, I get a reminder of my failure with a Christmas card and sometimes a present. The card used to come from my dad but as I have not done as he wished, it now comes from his wife and has become more cutting.
I’m not sure if it will come this year but it hangs over my mind as I feel grief that my dad can’t be in my life without hurting me, and if I take a step back from the dysfunction for my own sanity, I receive nasty cards reminding me how it is all my fault. Merry Christmas, you’re failing us as a daughter. In reality, the situation is complicated and I am sure at fault for things but the sheer inability to acknowledge that it takes two people in a relationship to make it or break it baffles me.
I think all this baggage could be why, I am utterly distraught that my friendship with a friend I met in college which was honestly always dysfunctional, and probably better for both of us to go separate ways, has ended abruptly. Even though I saw it coming and was honestly on borrowed time, the fact that it fell apart at this time of the year is bringing me quite low. I don’t understand how it all happened as quickly as it did. Because I’ve lived so many years now with those nasty Christmas cards, I can’t help thinking this is all my fault and that I didn’t mean much to her anyway. Which is crazy because I know that our friendship did mean a lot.
Man, this time of the year is not as holly or jolly as those songs claim. It is complicated because it can’t be perfect like the movies tell us it will be. If you are having a hard time, know that I’m here for you and I’m sending you love through my keyboard because I am not doing well either. Thank you for spending a bit of your day with me.
What do you do when you feel out of control? I used to just blast music in my headphones until I could push the emotions down. For the sake of my poor eardrums, I’ve been trying something new.
I am a Tornado
If you knew me in real life, you would know that I am not a great housekeeper. I am more of a tornado of creative chaos, whether it be in the kitchen or in my workspace, there will be messes and clutter. As a creative person, sometimes I honestly don’t notice the chaos or clutter around me, I just see what I’m working on and if I have completed my project according to my vision.
It’s not a good way necessarily to go through life, but it is my authentic self. As a kid, this led to a lot of nagging me to pick up and friction with my mom and grandparents because I was not organized or faithful in straightening up my room. The same with vacuuming, dusting, or remembering to do the dishes before my mom got home from work. Now as an adult, it’s an internal battle I wage with myself between the chaos tornado and the desire to keep things tidy.
Over the years of working from home, I’ve learned that a chaotic space is not a productive space, as they said many times before, and yet I’m still a bit slow to do something about it. It wasn’t until watching Business Proposal that I began to connect the dots.
Kang Tae Mu
While watching Business Proposal earlier this year, a now beloved classic in my house, I related to a lot of the main characters. The one I did not expect to feel a kinship with was Kang Tae Mu. He is a young president of a company, he is rich, polished, and in control. The opposite of me. It wasn’t until the mask of perfection cracked and I saw the vulnerable moments of his character, the heartbreak and stress of his childhood, and his perfectionism as a coping tool that I realized we are not so different.
There is this moment, that truly endeared me to his character and opened my eyes to my own poor coping skills. Tae Mu and his friend Mr. Cha go to Mr. Cha’s apartment after work (Mr. Cha is his assistant) and Tae Mu cleans everything. Mr. Cha just steps back and out of his way, while Tae Mu works out all the emotions rattling around his mind in chaotic fractures by cleaning, and later cooking. His character decompresses by putting things back into order when he feels out of order and out of control. I never thought of cleaning that way before.
Gellers and Gilmores
I had seen it portrayed less healthily in the show Friends through Monica’s character. Monica’s character does this in a more unhinged and controlling way. But Tae Mu’s cleaning is so much more relatable. I mean it makes so much sense that tidying things can be a productive way to release the frantic energy of big emotions. In the show Gilmore Girls, emotional outbursts are normal. The characters rant, they yell, they express their emotions with big displays and that is usually how my feelings come out. In big messy paintbrush strokes over my relationships and my little house. I don’t like that anymore. I want to be kinder, gentler, a positive person to those around me.
I know I’ll still have those moments, but I’d like to minimize them and cope in better ways. Like not pushing the emotion into a box and tossing it to the back of my mind or feeling stressed and tense. So I’ve been trying to clean, when I really feel like I’m stuck.
Cleaning to the Beat of Wonderland & Item
I was feeling down in the dumps today, it was just an amalgam of bad communication with my husband, a cold, some other not feeling good things and discouragement. A lot of little things kept going wrong and my highly sensitive personality was feeling overstimulated. I was messing with my ability to focus on my current mitten project, my NaMo WriMo start, and planning blog posts.
I realized the only thing I could authentically change to set my day on a better path was to do some cleaning that had fallen by the wayside while I had been sick. With my earbuds in place and a playlist of Stray Kids’ 5-Star and Ateez hits I set to work on a kitchen deep clean. It is incredible how the first five songs of 5-Star changed my mood. The pacing of the music woke the dopamine centers of my brain back up and I was jamming through my stovetop scrubbing. By the time I switched to Ateez, I felt this weight lifted off. The stovetop was shining, the kitchen floor was lemony-fresh, the dishes were sorted into the drying rack, and the laundry was done with its spin cycle.
My environment was different even if my problems and little irritations from the day still existed, I was less stressed because I was able to do something to release my tension. Something active and productive. I felt like I was running my day, not my day running me over.
This year has been weird, weird because I tried something new. I took a step back and let something that had felt out of my control for years be out of my control. I stopped pushing, trying, fighting, and shape-shifting. Instead, I waited. I took my hands off of my relationship with my mom and submitted it to God. I was at rock bottom, our relationship hit an all-time low in January. We were no longer Rory and Lorelai, we were Emily and Lorelai careening towards Emily and Gran. Things were bad. Our communication was broken, and both of us seemed to be unbothered by the problems, allowing it to be the status quo. For just shy of a decade our relationship had been in a bad place. My life took a wrong turn when I was in college and never righted its course. We were no longer pals, but secretive enemies.
I thought this was the final destination for our relationship. I was not hopeful. I put it down and left it. For months I barely spoke to my mom. For six months we did not see each other. It was the longest break we ever took. Even when I moved 14 hours away, we saw each other within 5 months. The distance was too far. This year it felt like I lived on the other side of the world. It pushed me to be still to process what I was doing wrong and to realize what I wished our relationship could be like.
When my mom had surgery this summer, the thought of a complication taking her away woke me up out of this experiment in distance. I visited her and it was strained, but doing a normal thing, like visiting your mom after surgery, seemed to bring a little normalcy back to our unbridled mess. As she recovered our relationship ebbed and flowed like tides. One day we’d be comfortable, warm, and friendly. The next it was cold, distant, irritating. I began to wonder if the small bit of hope was just that a small taste. That maybe it was what it was, and I needed to adjust my expectations. Could we get along in my adulthood? I was uncertain and began to think that maybe my mom was my best friend as a kid because I was young and different. Like my personality and needs have changed and that was how it was. I began to encourage myself to accept it, but I didn’t like it.
But then August and September came and something changed. They came to visit us, and we went to visit them. We stayed for the weekend and went to a familiar fall haunt, the Antiques in the Woods show in Ohio. I had fun, I remembered the past times we had together at this event, and I met a friend of my mom and grandma’s who told me how much they loved my mom. They told me stories of moments I missed over the past decade when I was not interested in spending time with my mom and painted a portrait I hadn’t seen in a while. They reminded me of who my mom could be and why I was always so proud to have her be my chaperone on school trips or invite friends over to my house because my mom can be really cool and a sweetheart. All the baggage of grief, growing pains, family fights, moves, it had all clouded my vision. I was seeing through the eyes of pain and past, I wasn’t seeing her in real-time.
We hung out with them again recently and went to Erie Bluffs State Park. I remembered how much I loved traveling with my mom. When the trip began my plan was to show her Erie in hopes that she would like a place I was considering moving to, but instead, I felt this pull to not leave again. I felt this peace to remain where I am and be comfortable in the familiar and close proximity to home. To not be afraid of staying close to home and not be scared or ashamed of my roots. I’ve learned a lot this year and I feel immense gratitude for the process of how I learned because if I had not fully walked away, my eyes may have stayed clouded in the lens of the past instead of looking toward the future and appreciating what is right in front of me. My Lorelai to my Rory, my home that still remains, the ideal mom-dad-dog-plus a husband that fits like a missing puzzle piece, the family I always wanted. I just needed to wait and be open to things getting better.
Will we probably fight again? Oh most definitely, but have I learned you can repair what is broken. Yes. And that is what I am grateful for. That might be the most important life lesson because it teaches resiliency.
One Rabbit Riot 