The Lost Year of 2023

“If you’re “too much” for them….. they’re not enough for you.” – Coffee Cup Mantra

The other day I received an email from WordPress with statistics of my year in review.  Although I had visitors and many views, there was no new content.  Much to my surprise I never wrote in 2023.  Wow can that be true?  Yes, I know I have been hit and miss over the past decade, but not one entry?  Combine this fact with the recently discovered 2023 planner that was completely blank.  The opening page stated “How will you bloom?” and solicited the planner to create a mission statement for their ideal year.  Why was my last year void and what the heck happened to 2023?

The list is long, not much fun, very cumbersome and at times full of negative energy, but the answer was simple; I got lost in 2023.  Not fully a surprise. I recall a morning drive in July and having the realization that I didn’t have the same relationship to music.  The joy I found in little things, a song on the radio, a great bite of food, finding the groove in a project, these were all nonexistent in my daily ritual.  Instead I was caught in a hamster wheel of trying to keep all the balls in the air while pleasing the masses.

Now I am not placing blame or not taking responsibility for my current state of affairs, this is more getting down to the foundation and assessing the situation.  Letting my economic background take a hold of my brain,  I started looking at the variables and limiting restraints in my life.  Pretty much my entire landscape has changed.  My X’s and Y’s were foreign.  Living more miles than I care to think about from family and friends, no familiar surroundings, and lets just add it to the mix.. life with a dog (I do love Louie but he is a major change) nothing in my world has been the same.  Allowing my environment to hold constant I need to improve my X to get the greatest return of joy out of Y.

What were the successful pieces in the past?  Accepting that my function didn’t change overnight, let’s examine the timeline.  In January of 2019 there was the phone call from the mammogram department at Sharp requesting I come in for additional testing.  From that day forward life seemed to keep handing out new variables of constant change (including the fun filled adventure we all experienced called “Covid”).  Now 1,825 days later, the variables have altered so many times that I feel more like a finished 2,000-piece puzzle that looks nothing like the box cover. 

Then it dawned on me, I have been here before.  Many, many moons ago I experienced much of the same feelings of life kicking over my apple cart and jumping all over my fruit.  When my surroundings were different, the people weren’t my friends (at first) and the subject matter was very new and extremely scary.

When I was 11 years old, my parents divorced.  My brother and I found ourselves outside our normal, small town of Templeton (800 people at the time) world and thrust into the hip, beach community of Carpinteria.  Living in a condo and not on our farm with all our livestock was culture shock.  Most frightening was walking into a 6^th grade classroom with 20 plus strange faces looking back at me. 

You see I started kindergarten with the same group of kids that I had shared a school room with for the past half dozen years.  There were no surprises, I knew where we all stood in the world of grammar school politics.  I can tell you that Jack Greer and Marty Gonzales would get chosen first for teams, that Eddy McGill was the fastest boy in class and most importantly that my desk would always be next to my very best friend Shawna Moore. 

Yet on this October day just shy of Halloween, my mother marched my brother and I into Main Elementary School.  I can picture that first day  like it was yesterday.  I had to sit in the office while my mother finished our paperwork.  Talk about being in a fish bowl.  Kids’ faces would cruise by the window all looking at the new girl.  Soon I was whisk off to meet my new class mates.  Mr. Carrillo was my teacher and he was a big guy.  He ran his room in a loose but structured style.  I soon learned that many of my classmates lived in the same neighborhood.  But I also was quick to discover that some of the students did not welcome strangers.  I was threatened and even ran away from school one afternoon.  Lucky for me I had a great teacher and librarian that saw the need in a lost little girl and decided to choose my first friend for me.

Lisa Gray was the daughter of the local dentist, had a very similar appearance to me and loved to read.  The school adults saw something in both of us and very silently placed us together.  Reading groups, going to help the librarian, working on projects she was always by my side.  And the magicalness of adolescents turn us two brown haired girls into the best of friends.  She made my new life bearable and soon helped me find my groove in a new place. 

Lisa and I both made other friends and shared mutual groups of interest, but I can’t even begin to count the numerous adventures, secrets and memories we created.  Lisa was enough for me and I was never too much for her.  And the funny thing is that I know if Lisa, Julie, Candy and others were to sit down with me at dinner tonight we would pick up right back where we left off. (cue the end of The Way We Were).

I moved back to Templeton my junior year and graduated with many of the faces that I begin my academic journey with 18 years earlier.  But Lisa and a handful of other friends never left my thoughts.  I use to note that at the time, I down right hated having to move, but looking back I gained so much from being in a new environment.  From learning experiences to different styles in clothing (who knew there were jeans outside of Wrangler?) and being exposed to a larger community helped shape my life and inner growth.  And if it wasn’t for Mr. Johnson my high school agriculture teacher I wouldn’t know Parli Pro or how to play cribbage. 

Discovering the lessons as our life changes and why god has placed us on a path isn’t always easy.  It can be downright challenging.  Using all the tools in your chest of “self help” can take time to repair the road our journey travels.  My fall back in any situation is to use the simplest form and go back to square one.  Cleaning a mess of closet, empty it completely and start over.  Challenge at work, what is the first step in the right direction?  So that is what I have done.  And writing this blog is the first step to a new tomorrow.  I am not going to promise that this will be the year that I actually write more and more, but who knows maybe the door opening is a sign for that adventure to unfold. My other big news is that I am teaching again.  I am officially the instructor of Equine Marketing at the University of Louisville for spring of 2024.  It has been great making my mind use channels of thoughts that have sat dormant for a few years.

Here is to 2024.  A planner full of notes and lists.  A blog review that surpasses any other year.  Life is a journey and as history has shown all trips have their ups and downs.  Look for the foundation or that one solid variable. Be it a person, place or thing, find your Lisa Gray and the equation will solve itself.