Ed in Indy... September 8, 2017

"Do I love you? Do I hate you?  I can't make up my mind. 

So, let's free fall and see where we land."

     ~Ed Sheeran, Where We Land,  
                 from the album 5 (2009)

Ed, I love you!  

I don’t have the words to describe how wonderful it was to hear Ed Sheeran live for a second time.  

THIS time I was prepared.  

I knew his tour playlist. Well, I knew the general playlist, and I do know all the words to all his songs, so I was good to go.   

In March, I had an opportunity to buy tickets to his current Divide Tour,  and he would be playing in Indianapolis.  I was lucky enough to purchase two tickets on the floor. Row 19…hmm, for my first concert of his I was in row 10…clearly, I was feeling snobbish.  What was I thinking!? This time, I would be taking my sister! I would still be close to Ed.  His energy, and positivity would reach me.  

I had foolishly hoped to buy four decent seats at Ticketmaster prices, but I wasn’t willing to settle for seats that would give us “just the experience”.  I experienced that once when I saw Genesis in concert.  I’m not even sure they were really in the same arena we were in that night.  So, go big or go home.  I went big.  

My sister had a birthday in June, and guess what I gave her?  She needed to be my date for this concert.  She needed to be with me because, years before she had been the one who introduced me to Ed. "You should listen to this guy" she said. "He has this song called Lego Houses.  I really think you'd like it." I have to admit, I was too busy to take a even a few minutes to listen to her suggestion.  I was deep into student teaching at that time.  

Six months later however, a guy I was dating played some Ed for me.  This guy had a guitar and he actually PLAYED, and sang to me.  I was smitten!  Not by that guy, but by the music.  The words and melody captured my heart.  I HAD to find out about this young artist.  It was mid-June, and my divorce had just been finalized.  I was suddenly very free, and I was obsessed with a new artist.  Two CD's purchased, my detective hat askew, and I was finding out all I could about the wordsmith who created the poetic songs I was now in love with.  I talked to my sister on the phone one day, “Hey, there’s this singer I'm in love with, and I don't mean like I’m in love with him, he's like 24 and that’s gross, I'm in love with his personality, with his drive, with his word choice, and rhythm, and language. His music is intoxicating! Have you heard of Ed Sheeran?" I'm sure if she was with me face-to-face, her look would have been one of her shaking her head at me while she had that 'I-told-you-so' look in her eyes. I suspect she was rolling her eyes at the heavens as she patiently responded, "Yes (long pause) I told you about him months ago.  He has this song called Lego Houses, remember?" As a Lego lover, I did kind of remember that song name now that she mentioned it.  As a Harry Potter fan though, I also recalled my sister telling me this singer looked a bit like Ron Wesley in the Harry Potter movies. Which I suppose he does.  lol It’s funny how and what our brains choose to recall, and when.  

Well, in my obsession, I realized that just a few weeks later (7-7-15), Ed Sheeran would be playing in Indy, just over an hour from my house.  I asked the guy I was dating if he wanted to go see Ed. He was a fan, too.  He hemmed and hawed, but was noncommittal.  I was all in.  If I was going to this concert, I was going to spend a little money and REALLY see this guy.  I found two tickets close to the stage.  They cost $400, a piece.  This guy I was dating could afford it, but he had excuses.  I wasn't asking him to buy my ticket, just go to the concert with me.  He wouldn't pull the trigger.  I gave him an ultimatum...let me know by a certain time, or I’d buy myself a ticket and go alone.  He didn't respond, so I bought myself a ticket.  Go big, or go home.  I went big.  

Two weeks later, I drove myself north to attend my first rock concert, alone.  My seat was in row 10, dead center.  It was A! MAZE! ING!  I was in awe of the young performer before me.  One guy on stage, making magic happen.  He worked his loop pedal and recreated the tracks I had purchased.  I couldn’t get enough.  

As many others, I became an instant Sheerio.  That’s what Ed Sheeran fans are called.  After the concert, I made sure my music library included all the songs he has recorded.  NOT every song he’s ever written, this guy is a prolific writer.  I just want to own everything he’s recorded.  I check periodically to make sure my library is still up to date.  I believe in buying CD's to support artists, so what ever I can get a disc, I do.  Ed likes to keep things simple and digital.  

I follow Ed on Twitter, and Instagram to see what is happening in his life.  I know he doesn’t manage his official sites, but still, I love feeling in the loop.  I can’t imagine having my life in the limelight as celebrities do.  Yet, I willingly follow him, always wanting to know what he's creating.  There are a lot of wanna bees in the world, but Ed Sheeran is the real deal.  I knew from the moment I truly listened to him that his talent puts him in the same league as Michael Jackson, Elton John, Prince, George Michael, etc.  He IS a big deal.  I hope he’s around for a long, long time.  I love his positive energy and I think the world needs what he has to offer.  

So, in March…I had an opportunity to buy tickets.  This time I wanted my sister to share this with me.  I persevered, and found two seats on the floor, pretty close to the stage.  I pulled the trigger.  Sold.  Next, we just had to wait for September 8 to arrive.  

The next six months allowed me to do even more research.  What would the playlist be?  Who would be the opener?  Did I really own all Ed’s music?  Did I know all the words to his songs?  I’m pretty sure that if Berlioz and Toulouse could talk, they’d be able to sing along with Ed, too!

When September 8th arrived, I couldn’t believe it.  The day didn’t feel real to me.  I took my first personal day, and left school at noon to head north to Indianapolis.  My sister arrived a few hours later.  We haven’t spent any real alone, sister time together, since I turned 50 back in 2014.  We have stolen away a few hours here and there, but just a few hours.  We needed this weekend.  We walked to the venue, stopping for a drink and an appetizer.  Then it was time to go see Ed!  

When I saw Ed the first time, I knew Rixton was opening for him. I educated myself with their most popular songs.  This time I hadn’t been paying attention to opener James Blunt.  I found out that Ed and he were friends and not surprising, Ed has written several of his songs, too.  I was surprised when Joshua Radin came on stage.  I am not familiar with him, but he was a nice opener for the evening.  Apparently Blunt was sick.  I didn’t really care.  Sorry for the lack of love James, but I was there to sing with Ed.  

I apologized to the people sitting next to me.  “Im sorry.  I will be singing every single song tonight, and I’m not a professional singer!”  

They laughed.  “That’s fine.” They approved.  It mattered not, I was going to sing even if they didn’t.  My sister had been warned months ago.    

In my research, I found a YouTube of Ed singing a song that he’d be singing live…Feeling Good, by Nina Simone.  Last spring I took a history of Jazz class, and this song and artist fell right into that genre. How cool!  Nina started her recording career in 1958.  She was the daughter of a female Methodist minister.  She was also a civil rights activist as well as recording artist.  I was excited to be able to hear Ed singing her song live.  I knew he’d be fusing it with his song I See Fire.  He was commissioned to write that song for the movie The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013). The songs are opposite in mood and message, but melodically they work well together.  I was ecstatic to have my new phone fully charged, and with loads of memory, in my hand.  To see Ed singing Feeling Good/I See Fire in Indy on September 8, click here.  

With my Anna! 

I took photo after photo of Ed, and longed to have my big camera with us.  In the end, it didn’t really matter.  I was in the moment; going big.  I was with my sister, singing with Ed, and having the time of my life.  

I was feeling good.  

The next time I see Ed, I'd like to hear him singing unplugged, and in a small, intimate venue.  I want to hear him sing all his early songs I love from the album 5...Sunburn, So, Be Like You, Firefly, The City, Let It Out, Homeless, Where We Land, Wake Me Up...Oh my, I want it all.  I want to go big!

~Lisa Kroll
     hopelessly romantic, music junkie, Sheerio

Cell phone concert pictures: 

September 8, 2017

Bankers Life Field House

Indianapolis, IN 

Ed Sheeran

From row 19

Gives and Takes....Price Points

Sometimes good things fall apart so even better things can fall together....

I've been weighting the pros and cons to being in a relationship. Nothing is on the horizon, I've just been thinking. I've been wondering why people give up their independence to be in relationships. I'm trying to figure out what the price point might be for whether or not a relationship happens.  I've been told I think too much. Thinking is a gift.    

In a relationship:  

When one enters into a relationship, there are many things gained.  One gains a partner with whom he or she can grow and share life.  Another gain, someone to call or text. There is always someone to come home to; always noise in the house.  Always someone to go do something with, either planned or spontaneous.  There are holidays to share and new traditions just waiting to be created. One always has someone who can do something for them, or the reverse, someone to dote on. One has someone to think out loud with or debate. Chores can be divided.  Money can be pooled.  Kind words can be spoken, and heard.  One can hear "I love you" before they close their eyes at night, and drift off to sleep. There is someone to plan and live dream vacations, or even stay-cations.  Still another gain, one has someone to share a new series on TV, or Netflix, etc. Meals can be prepared and eaten together. Strange noises in the house can be investigated by someone else. One has a partner to cuddle with, and hands are available to be held. 

Being single:  

Windows in the car may be opened and hair may be turned loose to dance freely in the breeze.  One decides what music to listen to and the decibel it should be heard. And if one wants to listen to Ed sing "What do I know", or "Eraser" a hundred times in a row...she can.  One can stay up as late as they'd like, or sleep in, too.  House windows may also be left open at night to enjoy the sounds of owls and tree frogs. No negotiating for what is on the screen. Binge watching for hours is acceptable. Dishes do not need to be used, or even washed daily IF used.  Chips and dip qualify as a complete meal. Proper sleeping posture is sprawled out, in the middle of the bed. Bed making is optional. There is always enough hot water. One can talk to his or her pets, knowing no one else will hear them.    

I'm sure there are many pros I'm missing for both being in a relationship and being single. These lists are by no means complete.   

A little alone time to think is always good for the soul.  
Being alone can be lonely at times, but it's okay.  

~Lisa Kroll

     I choose love.  
     I choose positivity. 
     I choose happiness.  

Hoping in Tomorrow...

I don't have writer's block.  When there isn't anything posted, it is because I am dumping my thoughts on my private blog, or in my paper journal.  It means I am trying to decide what to share next. My personal goals are to accept how my life has played out.  I need to understand it, and why things happened as they have.  I need to understand my role, my needs, and my desires.  I am moving forward with my life.  If my writings can help someone else along they way, that makes me happy.  Not many truly understand what it is like to live with someone who has a personality disorder.  I didn't even realize that's what I was doing until I started to find my voice and put myself first. Our current political situation in America makes me feel the entire country is living through something very similar to what I have survived. The difference...  I was in the inner circle, and politically we are all at least one step removed.

I have been reflecting on what I have publicly written.  I do not have regrets for writing, but I realize that two posts ago I might have shared more than many people can handle.  As I re-read it, I know it doesn't sound like what happened could have been real.  It was.  I am glad that I documented in the moment exactly what did happen.  What I experienced was something that started long ago, nearly 33 years ago, and gradually built up.  I have been slow to mentally let things go, because I have had a lot to sort out.  It is something that I hadn't realized I had allowed to happen.  What I experienced was intense for someone in the line of fire. I have a little PTSD due to what I lived under, and it sometimes flairs up.  I am learning to recognize my triggers, work through them and not let them set me off.  Experience make us stronger.  There is risk in living, and in relationships.  Friendships are less risky than deeper, personal commitments.  When humans pair up, we trust that other person is on this ride with us, and are not working against us.  We trust they are going to build us up and be proud of our successes, not be jealous, or competitive and try to out do us.  I am a soul who loves deeply. I know people are thinking, "I wish she would move on all ready", etc.  I am, and at the pace I've needed. And I've needed a lot of time! I realize that what I have shared has been incredibly personal.  Sharing has been a necessary step in my healing.  My choice has been to write.

At this moment, I feel as if I have my hand on the door handle to my future.  You know that saying, When one door closes, Another opens up?  I feel like I am just about ready to turn the handle, open the door, AND in walking forward through the door, enter the next chapter of my life.

This is an exciting, yet scary time.  There is nothing standing in my way, except for myself.  Only my own fears are holding me back. I am still a little fearful.

Am I strong enough to speak my voice when I don't agree?
Am I able to let my opinion be known?
Am I ready to let down my guard and really open my heart to another?

Summer is here, and I think I'm ready for another adventure.

~Lisa Kroll
     spreading Love,
               and Understanding,
                      Positivity

Take me to Church...

Chapel of the Holy Cross, Sedona, AZ

Growing up, church was an important part of my life.  On Saturday afternoons, or Sunday mornings my family went to church.  One hour a week, this was our routine.  Church was where my mother's, and my father's family came together.  Polish, Italian and Irish, it was one thing they had in common. My church gave me a sense of place in the community. I was taught the rules from a very early age, and I knew how to belong.  

Annually, there was a church picnic to attend. Most of my spiritual socializing happened after church, as my parents would catch up with other parents/adults they'd only see weekly. Church was a place that was safe, where I worshipped with my friends. Catholic school wasn't something my parents could afford, so I was public school educated.  My formal religious education started when I was 7 years old.  I can still recall that late May day in 1972 when I made my first communion. I wore a short, white dress that had a chiffon overlay.  I was adorned with white, lace anklets, white patent leather shoes and little white gloves.  My first communion head piece made me feel like a mini-bride, or princess of the church.  It was just myself on the alter, and one other little girl.  After making our first communion, we were greeted by the congregation.  We stood on either side of the Priest.  Nowadays, entire classes of children make their first communion.  I attended catechism along side peers who were my church family.  After catechism, there were confirmation classes to attend.  My confirmation discussion class was very small, just a half dozen of us.  Today, I still have a few of those friends in my life.  Clearly, the Catholic church influenced my becoming who I am.

Right now, I find myself wondering where does my heart belong?  Is the Catholic church still right for me, or have my beliefs changed?  Do I believe in the rigidity of the Catholic church, or more in the ideology of belonging to a church? I know I have become a more aware, spiritual being as I have aged.  My life experiences have been anything but rigid or predictable, and they have influenced my thoughts.   

On February 12, I sat in church and listened to the words being spoken. I felt I was being spoken to directly and I can't shake the feeling I received from the message that day.  I felt a pain in my religious being; as if a nail was being hammered into the coffin of my soul closing me off from the church. I was made to feel that I was a sinner and beyond redemption.  The gospel reading dictated what was being preached.  Rationally, I know the gospel is a group of words from a very long time ago.  Surely humanity has grown and changed in it's beliefs?  Yet in 2017, many churches continue to read old words, and repeat history.  I suppose that is to be expected because the old words in bibles, etc have given so many comfort, and a certain amount of wisdom.  There are lessons to be taken from history.  Sometimes, history keeps people bound to old ways.  Change is not encouraged.  For me, the effects from that Sunday are making me rethink what having religion in my life means.  More precisely, what the Catholic faith means to me.  The full gospel reading was Matthew 5: 17-37.  What struck me first, were the words spoken on the alter that morning to start mass...'you should strive to: "be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect."' (Matthew 4:48)

When I hear the words 'be perfect',  I feel that means you need to live up to some set standards that have been defined by someone else.  My history has shown me that I cannot be someone else's idea of perfect. I feel I'm being set up to fail.  

The second thing that caused me pause, was how much of a misfit I feel in my own church. I truly feel like an outcast.  Matthew 5:32 "But I say this to you, everyone who divorces his wife, except for the case of illicit marriage, makes her an adulteress; and anyone who marries a divorced woman commits adultery."

As those words were read, I felt a bright, scarlet A was suddenly floating over my head, and I was sure all could see it glowing.  How can I even think of being perfect in the church's eyes?  Those exact words are in the bible.  Written when?, but spoken today...in 2017.

When I returned to the Catholic church several years ago, I returned after spending years feeling I was disappointing my mom.  I was married in the Catholic church, but I didn't raise my children to be Catholics.  Their father was not and I thought I could raise my children to be good Christians who understand there is more than one way to worship, to love and to care for all.  I believe in my heart I have been successful in achieving this goal.  But in the rest of my history, my mom first told me when she found out I wasn't attending church at all, "any church would be better than no church" in my kids life.  I agreed.  So I chose the church that my husband attended.  The pleaser in me wanted to make everyone happy.  The church that we attended, I found inspiring.  I became an active member.  It was a Christian based church - Geist Christian Church, Disciples of Christ.  I recall one time asking my mom if she would buy a raffle ticket for our church hog roast.  She told me she wasn't into supporting other religions. Ouch. Later in my child raising years, my mom told me she felt she was going to Hell because she failed as a mother.  Enter Catholic guilt.  "Two of my three children didn't turn out Catholic," my mother told me.  My response was she still had a chance with her youngest child.  My sister is the reason my mom went to Heaven.  Not my brother, and certainly not me.  My returning to the Catholic church was after my mom died.  I'm not sure I even believe in Heaven or Hell.  I'm more of the kind who believes spirits are all around us.  I do believe my mom was at peace when she passed away.  She was an incredibly, wonderful soul and I'm sure she found her place in Heaven.  Maybe my returning to church was to appease God on her behalf.  I know I did find comfort in the rituals and routine of church.  It was something familiar that I returned to.  Maybe I needed that familiarity to help get through the challenges in my life that would soon follow.

I tried to talk with one of the priests early in my deteriorating marriage, my husband had made it clear we were not something he wanted any more.  The priest told me he could see there was still love in my heart for my husband.  He told me I would find a way to make it work out. He said all would be fine. 

Months later, I tried attending an over 50's group potluck at church.  I was looking for support.  When I walked into the potluck, I realized it was not billed accurately. It was really a couples group.  They said "everyone was welcomed", but it was a couples group, and I was clearly the odd man out.  Call me Esther. Upon first walking in, I was asked if I was really over 50.  When I jokingly said, "do you need to see my drivers license," I was told yes.  I laughed uncomfortably, but did not reveal my license.  Minutes later I met the Deacon.  His first question was, "Where is your husband?"  I felt like a leper. There were single women there, but they had lost their husbands to death.  They were to be pitied.  They were accepted.  I understand that being divorced in the Catholic church means something very different in the church doctrine versus in the congregation.  The Catholic church offered me no support through my divorce. There was a divorce support group offered at another Christian based church in town.  I reached out, and I went there. I attended two rounds of a 13-week program. During those 26 weeks, my eyes were opened a little.  But I told myself, you're Catholic. That's your home. That's where you belong.  

Being honest, I have not felt like there is a place for me at my church.  I do see familiar faces when I enter the sanctuary.  There are 'regulars' I sit near, greet and know by name.  Many families and couples fill the pews around me.  I have enjoyed the ritual and routine of church.  As I rediscovered my love for music, singing the traditional songs at mass has also been nice. There is comfort in knowing the routine, and in knowing the expectations.  Is familiarity what I am looking for?  Or am I looking for acceptance? 

The old school mentality in the Catholic church cannot live forever, can it?  Surly the unrealistic demands on the rest of society will fade and change as the population demographic changes.  I do not think I can wait for the church to catch up to me.  My church is physically hurting my soul.  Maybe the message that followed the gospel reading that morning was one of acceptance and change.  Honestly, I was trying to stay focused on keeping my silent tears at bay so I didn't fully hear what was being said.  I was really sure my scarlet A was now attached to a large arrow pointing directly at my head.  Right here, it was saying.  Adulteress.  Right here.  I know I didn't do anything wrong.  But I am divorced and attending church.  I do not have plans to get my marriage annulled.  I was married for a long time. I made a commitment, and was honoring it.  I didn't make a mistake.  My children were created out of love, even if it was only love on my end.  I will not make them bastards, as my grandmother, rest her soul, would tell me they will become if I annul my marriage.  In the back of my head, I faintly heard the homily preaching family values.  It is important for core family values to remain strong in the Catholic church.  I understand their position.  Families need safe places they can go, as families.  But, I am divorced.  Yes, I heard something mentioned about gay marriages now to consider. The rest of what I heard was delivered without the conviction that love is love, or that we should love and accept one another. And not once was it said that we are perfect just as we are.

What I am realizing about myself is that I am not only discovering who it is that makes up me in my emotional life, or discovering who I am physically.   I am also discovering whom I am in my spiritual life.  This transformation I am going through is truly a complete transformation.

Spiritually, I think it's time for me to step away from my Catholic roots, at least for now.  I cannot attend a church that continues to endorse old norms.  I cannot attend a church that doesn't nourish me.  I cannot attend a church that hasn't changed as I have changed.  I cannot attend a church that doesn't grow.  I am perfectly me.  I'll admit, I don't quite see it yet, but I am.  I am a divorced person who is still capable of love, and tolerance, and acceptance, and who needs a church who preaches the same, while being able to nourish my soul.  I need a church who doesn't belittle her flock, but instead builds them up and makes a difference in this world.  We only have a short time on this planet.  I need to feel I am making a difference. I don't need to feel that I am less than acceptable.  

Change may be good, but change IS hard.  It's hard to break from the familiar and go to the unknown.  I've spent the past several years charting a new course for myself.  I didn't expect to be alone.  This has been hard, but it has also been good.  I wake each day feeling rested, happy, and grateful for another day on this wonderful planet.  

Not too long ago, this was not how I woke up.  I used to wake up being anxious.  I silently wondered what would I do today that was wrong?  I went to sleep each night feeling I needed to stay on a certain amount of the bed, not make any noises, and control all else.  Literally I needed to control ALL ELSE..things beyond my control: water dripping from the faucet, a dog barking at night.  As I closed my eyes to sleep, I would silently cry and wonder what was wrong with me?  I would physically lay on my stomach and tuck my right hand between the mattress and the box spring.  If during my slumber, I inadvertently rolled over my two foot limit (I sleep in a queen sized bed), I was shaken awake and told my offense.  If the toilet was stuck and running a little or a faucet was dripping, I was shaken awake and asked, "don't you hear that?" If the dog was barking at something out in the back yard at night and I didn't hear it, I was hostilely told "That god dammed dog was barking again last night.  I can't believe you didn't hear him." And if W happened to be barking before I fell asleep, I knew I needed to go and try to hush him.  If I didn't, the passive aggressive mannerisms, heavier than necessary footsteps to the basement and back, reminded me that I was at fault, yet again. Behind closed doors.  Emotional abuse.  Unseen by all, but felt deeply by those in it's path.  I am learning to let this go.  I am learning to recognize the patterns and put myself first.  I have felt crazy, but I am not.  

Again, change is hard.  Initially, I knew the crazy in my life, I knew my place, and I thought I knew how to manage it all.  I was willing to sacrifice to keep things as status quo. I hadn't realized there might be something different out in the world, or that the different might be something even better.  Daily I prove to myself, that I am capable of surviving the challenges and changes that fill my life.  I am not only surviving, but I am healing and happier.  Maybe it's time for me to reevaluate the place a church holds in my heart.  If I have been able to experience such positives in one area of my life...maybe I can feel those positive in other areas too?  Hm.

Chapel of the Holy Cross, top side, Sedona, AZ

I plan on praying over what the correct option spiritually might be for me.  I think I might take a sabbatical from my Catholic faith.  Maybe I'm becoming a spiritual vagabond, or maybe I'm becoming more enlightened.  

In 2013, I traveled alone on a walkabout that was the kick start to me discovering who I was once again.  I went out west to the Grand Canyon and Sedona for just under two weeks.  While in Sedona, I visited a church that was built right into the side of the rocks.  I can tell you, my spirit was touched and filled with peace and happiness while there.  I felt welcomed.  There were no set expectations on me.  I was allowed to just be me, and to shine as brightly as I could.  

Maybe it's time I stop trying to fit myself into defined, and confining boxes.  

*****

Ed Sheeran came out with his third album yesterday.  It's called Divide and I am overdosing on it.  I currently have his songs "What do I know?" and "Save Myself" on repeat.  

From the wisdom of Ed...

          "Remember life is more than fitting in your jeans, its
          Love and Understanding, postivity.  

          Love can change the world in a moment, 
          But what do I know."  

Maybe I need to go to the church of Ed Sheeran for awhile.  :)
I know I do need to allow myself to fall in love, completely, with all I do.

          ...."And before I love someone else, I've got to love myself"

~Lisa Kroll, 
eating, praying and still learning to loving this person who is me. 

Blogging music:  
When I first wrote this pots, I was listening to the music of Amos Lee, from his album Spirit.
My editing music has been from Divide, by Ed Sheeran.  
And, although it's a tad sacrilegious...SNC singing "Take Me to Church". 

Humor has a place in my soul.  
The power of words through lyrics 
and stories 
inspire me 
and help me dream.

Castle on the Hill

Lyric excerpts from Castle on The Hill, by Ed Sheeran

"Found my heart and broke it here
Made friends and lost them through the years
And I've not seen the roaring fields in so long, I know I've grown
But I can't wait to go home

I'm on my way
Driving at ninety down those country lanes
Singing to "Tiny Dancer"
And I miss the way you make me feel, and it's real
We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill
...

One friend left to sell clothes
One works down by the coast
One had two kids but lives alone
One's brother overdosed
One's already on his second wife
One's just barely getting by
But these people raised me and I can't wait to go home

And I'm on my way, I still remember
This old country lanes
When we did not know the answers
And I miss the way you make me feel, it's real
We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill"

......

Reminiscing.
Reconnecting.
Realizations.

Sunset over the Castle in Chicago

Shared pains.
Growing up.
Kindness.
Being Real.
Accepting.


Friendships are precious.

What does a boy of almost 26 know of reconnection's?  Recently, Ed Sheeran released two new songs, his next album is due out on March 3rd.  When I initially listened to both songs I was immediately drawn to the sure-to-be number 1 dance song, Shape of You.  Upon further listening...it is his song Castle on the Hill that touches my soul. It's a song about returning home.  

In January, I reconnected with a few of my high school friends.  We spent the better part of a long weekend in Chicago.  What a blast!  I grew up in a community that was nestled in the cornfields of northern Indiana.  Most of these people I shared the weekend with, I first met when I was 11 years old.

Back in our high school days, we branched out from the safety of the cornfields once in awhile, and headed to the big city of Chicago for fun.  I recall thinking Chicago was ginormous.  My parents wouldn't let me go there without an adult present.  Thankfully, we had teachers who realized, high school students who live among the cornfields, needed to be exposed to culture.  IN MY DAY...teachers could drive a carload of students places without worry of accusations.  More likely accusations happened, but the teachers really knew the families of the students they were putting in their cars.  I think I grew up in a smaller world.  

We had an English teacher who would periodically take a group of us into the city to eat pizza at the Rathskeller, or Gino's.  We would also go to see Second City.  That was in the day when comedians Mary Gross, and Jim Belushi were on the main stage.  Occasionally, we'd head to Chicago to see a musical or eat an authentic meal: Mexican or French depending on what language one was studying. My love for live theatre was born when I was in high school, as I recall seeing both Evita and Annie live. I am thankful for the English, Spanish, French, Music and Band teachers I had growing up.    

The take away from my teachers...respect other cultures, and the Arts are important.

Today I am that "adult present" my parents long ago required. I drove my own car north into the Windy City from my little Southern Indiana town.  I was one of seven high school friends who came together for a mini-reunion.  We came from Northern and Southern Indiana, Southern Illinois and California.  We dined at Gino's, then headed to The Second City Main Stage.  Some history is worth repeating.  One in our group announced to our waitress that we were celebrating our high school reunion.  He told her if she could guess how long it's been, he'd give her a one hundred dollar tip.  Seconds later there was a loud, collective burst of "Oh My Gosh!!!!" when she said, "thirty-five." Amazing!  Or was it?  *wink, wink.  She did get that one hundred dollar tip.  

The show was a blast.  When it was over, 10:15 seemed too early to end the fun even though I know personally, my life as a first grade teacher finds me ready for bed shortly after I get home each night.  It was suggested we should go to a nearby (Uber ride away) bar, called The Original Mother's. Apparently Rob Lowe was in a movie that featured this bar.  Sadly, he wasn't to be seen on our visit.  We did play a non-traditional game of Beer Pong where we did not consume beer.  Two of us sang a karaoke duet to "Summer Loving," from Grease.  There is a video, but it's not blackmail worthy.  Both singers had a blast, with one having his own doo wop posse. 

The next day was filled with shopping at The Water Tower Place, followed by a decadent late afternoon lunch at the Ralph Lauren Club.  

When it was near dinner time we weren't anywhere close to being hungry.  One in our group made a small mention that her daughter is managing a hotel nearby.  Off we went on another short Uber ride; we all wanted to meet this beautiful young offspring of our childhood friend. As it was still too soon for dinner, we decided to catch a show before we dined.  This weekend was filled with many firsts.  

We headed to the world famous Baton Show Lounge that features female impersonators.  Holy crumbs, were they great!  Despite the group next to us embarrassing themselves with a party member who had too-much-something before they arrived, we had a wonderfully, entertaining evening.  All of the females in our group commented how intimidated they felt by the performers. The performers were sensual, curvaceous, owned their bodies, were flirtatious...and, yes a little outrageous!  As we were leaving, I stopped to tell the owner how much I enjoyed the evening. When we arrived that night, playing on a large screen over the stage was a video loop. The video explained how The Baton got it's name.  The owner, Jim Flint, twirled baton 47 years ago.  Well, so did I.  On a whim, I asked if he twirled and competed against another fairly famous Indiana baton twirler.  He had!  I knew it!  So had I!!!  I recall just one boy in the area who twirled when I was growing up...not including my brother and friend, Gordon, who were made to take a year of twirling due to complaining and competing with their sisters.  I am sure it was likely Jim.  Small world!

As we left The Baton, the male in our group was asked if he was follicly challenged?  Gathered on the sidewalk was a bachelorette party, on a scavenger hunt.  They needed to take a picture of the bride-to-be kissing a bald head.  My friend is such a good sport!  Payment came in the form of small jello filled cups for all.  Have you seen the movie, The Hangover?  I was sure one of us was going to end up sleeping on the roof of our hotel!  Strangers, on the streets of Chicago, offering Jello Shots out of a plastic Wal-Mart bag.  Oh my goodness! This evening really was to be filled with firsts.

At 10:30, we were now ready for dinner.  Off we headed to The Purple Pig where we shared, gourmet tapas plates.  Perfection!  Laughter filled the rest of the waning evening.  We opted to walk back to the hotel so we could enjoy the global warming effecting our January visit to the Windy City.  The walk home was filled with questions and curiosities about the performers from The Baton.  The costumes were very revealing...

Our weekend came to an end the next morning.  We shared breakfast at another wonderful eatery, the Tempo Cafe.

*****

What I have failed to mention is that all weekend long, there were little conversations that happened.  Sometimes two of us would get a chance to have a private conversation and rediscover who our former friends had grown to become.  We re-discovered...we are all beautiful human beings, and discovered we all survivors. We are survivors of the challenges life has offered.  In our presence was kindness, authenticity, acceptance, and maturity.   There was a realization of deeper connections that happened over those few days we shared. When you are older, and reconnect with those you knew growing up, you realize you didn't really know that person as a 17 or 18 year old.  How could you?  That person wasn't finished become the person they were meant to become.  Or maybe, they hadn't yet been colored by life.  They hadn't had the time to develop into the layered, intellectual soul they were meant to become.

Some people have things happen when they are young that does color them.  Most of us are able to survive our teens, and twenties without much damage.  I think it's typical that one hits 30, and life becomes more challenge filled. Not Adulting is NOT an option after a certain age is reached. (adult used here as a verb) By fifty, many are married, may have kids and/or possibly have gone through a broken relationship.  Our parents are starting to age, and their, or our, own health issues may be starting to rear their ugly heads.  The realization that one's career/dreams are not being reached means we start to re-evaluate what it is that we are really chasing.

When connecting with old friends, one can reminisce about events from one's youth, but the real connections begin when one realizes that none are completely comfortable in their own skin.  That doesn't mean we aren't comfortable.  What I am trying to say is that what others may presume to be true, may in fact not be true. Before I met my friends that weekend, I was thinking...these people were so beautiful when we were young.  Today they are even more beautiful AND successful. How can I even compare?  What ended up happening was I shared my weekend with real people.  They ARE beautiful and successful, but they are also very human.  I didn't really know that before.  My definitions for beauty and success are so different now than what they were when I was young.  For some reason, I was stuck with those old definitions in my brain.  

There is a certain safety in returning "home".  I ask again, how does a boy of almost 26 know of such reconnections?  Ed Sheeran, I admire your insights.  

~Lisa Kroll, healing with the help of my friends. 

Tonight's blogging music:  
Inspired by Ed Sheeran's, Castle on the Hill single to be released on his new album called Divide. Due out on March 3, 2017.  

Editing music: Music from the album Spirit by Amos Lee. 

DIY: How to Love...Click Here For Details

Wouldn't it be great if learning to love was as simple as following steps on a Do It Yourself tutorial?
Click Here for Details...ha!  Not so simple. No link today my friends.   

I know this sounds like a big subject.  
Love, is big.  

Personally, I find that I can give love, I just don't know how to accept love back.  At least this is how I feel. I can give love in certain situations; I do love my children, my siblings, my nieces and nephews, my students, my job, my pets, etc.   The one person I have trouble loving...myself.  

On-line advice suggests to love yourself first.  Coincidentally, my therapist told me this same thing when she was in my life!  That sounds a bit narcissistic to me.  In order to really love, I must forgive. Forgiving oneself is hard.   

This year I will forgive myself.  

I realize the past is the past.  

I did the best I could at that time.  

I do not regret loving.

I am ready to truly love me.  

I am a happy person.  I am happy with how my life is turning out.  

The next step for me is to forgive me.  

It would be nice to have that DIY right about now.  As with all things in life, this is a process, and I must go through all the stages/steps.  (NOTE: There are lots of on-line sources detailing how to forgive yourself...NOT linking to any.) 

It's easier to forgive someone else, than it is to forgive oneself.  

Self-forgiveness...have I mentioned this is hard? 

I am guilty of not thinking of myself enough.  

So starts my process...  

I love writing, but I have not made my time to write a priority.  

About six months ago I changed that, I now carve out time weekly to write.  

I love music...all kinds.  

I have made a point of seeing artists I want to see, when I want to see them.   

It was AMAZING to see Ed Sheeran live last July.  

Straight No Chaser is a December must do for me.  

Expressing myself through dance is something else I have always wanted to do.  

I spent years and years being on the sidelines as my daughter danced.  I did not want to be a ballerina.  I did want to feel the rhythm of the music fill my soul, 

to twist and to turn, 

to glide and to sway.  

I have musicality.  

I want to be connected to another, as we both feel the music pulse through our veins.  

I do not have aspirations to be a world famous dancer. 

However, I do aspire to share the language of music and dance.  

I love sharing time with my friends!  

Again, who knew I had so many friends?  I did.  I just didn't allow myself the time to share with them.  Breakfasts, dinners, trivia nights, dancing, game playing, book clubs, texting, chatting on the phone, planning weekend get-togethers...the list is broad and endless.  

My breakfast buddy!  We have a few favorite spots in town.

************

I typically write on Saturday nights.  

Yesterday I had errands, and didn't get to my spot until late.  My mind was filled with thoughts, but I didn't get all I wanted out of my brain. Pressure!  My blogging spot was closing for the night.    

I was also feeling stuck in my thoughts.  

...and then today...

I found that DIY/How to manual on love in a place I hadn't expected.  

While sitting in church, a familiar reading started...

1 Corinthians 13New International Version 

13 If I speak in the tongues[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,[b] but do not have love, I gain nothing.

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. 12 For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

------

My priest's lesson went on to say that one needs to forgive in order to experience love.  'Forgiving oneself is similar to a having a surgeon remove a tumor.  You know you will be better off without the tumor in your body, but it is hard to let it go because it has been a piece of you, and quite possibly you nurtured it.  Still, in order to be completely healed you MUST let it go.'  

I understand the analogy.  I'm thinking of trying to come up with an analogy the suits me better. Still, I get the message.  Once I forgive myself, I can work on trusting again.  Allowing myself to be vulnerable means I will risk being hurt again.  Being loved and giving love is the greatest gift we as humans can offer one another.  

~Lisa Kroll 

2016  

forgiving myself 

discovering what I love  

learning to trust again

  

faith, hope, love

Blogging Music:  25 by Adele