Life and Second Chances

 I was just shopping for a new SKIN COVER for my laptop and saw this saying:

LIFE always offers you a second chance - it is called TOMORROW.

I absolutely love that and it resonated with me immediately.  It caused me to think in a rapid fire manner about why something so simple seems so profound?  I think it is because of how we view life, in general.

I find we tend to think of life as a bundle of events that WILL happen - we will be born, we will make it through childhood, we will become an adult, we will experiences each decade, we will grow old, we will die.  When we think of things that happen as part of that bundle, we project out our beliefs of the impact of any one event, instead of viewing events as something that happened TODAY and TOMORROW has the capacity to be completely different.

We often believe if I failed at something today, I am also doomed to failure tomorrow, and the next and the next.  It is not ever viewed as an activity that occurred that has the same probabilities of remaining the same as it has of changing. Perhaps it is because of how we are taught to look at our lives from an early age.  In the context of the bundle... not just living each day for today as it may be the only day we get.  

It is the only promise we have.  If we want to do tomorrow differently, we can.  Life beyond today is nothing but second chances.  Or first chances at a new way, a new approach, a new thought pattern... 

When Is Enough Enough?

I moved to Honduras 4 years ago this month.  It was supposed to be for just a year... while I figured out myself and my life.  After 6 months I knew it would be for more than that 1 year.  After 4 years I know I will retain some attachment to this island forever.

Today I had a conversation with an island born Honduran.  We were discussing why I stay... and how he feels I am different.  He said to me, "you understand our heart... and you seem to love this place as we do". It made me cry. Literally.  No more true thing could be said.

I do care about this place.  I care about the people, the culture, the struggle that they have.  I worry about them being taken advantage of by people who come to this island to see how they can benefit off the backs of these people.  

I have made life long friends as well as many acquaintances.  I would do for them, and they for me.  They expect nothing but a smile, a conversation, a moment now and then to share thoughts over a coffee, tea, or beer. 

I have learned to value the small things from these people.  And they make me question our societal values and norms.  When is enough enough?  Every year we try to make more money, buy more things, and we as Americans are overwhelmingly unhappy.  We are not a happy people.

When I leave the island is when this is the most apparent.  Our easy going way of life is not a thing in the USA.  The stress for people is something you immediately sense and feel.  And it makes me want to turn right back around to the island every time.

When is "enough" going to be enough for you?

2026 #1 - Welcome To The New Year

Welcome to 2026 (I say mostly to myself at this moment) - time to change up this blog a little.  As each year that ticks off,  I realize that I have a lot yet to do with this "one precious life" (as a favorite singer of mine loves to say).  I am nowhere near seeing everything I want to see, doing everything I want to do, being everything that I can be.  I feel like I have only just begun.

Someone asked me this month while we were discussing blogs, why I have this blogsite.  My stated reason really has not changed from the get go... to talk about things that matter TO ME.  To reflect on things the way I want to reflect. It is for me to have a record of my thoughts and writing in one spot.  For the convenience of me. And in the doing, if anyone else has even a small moment of personal insight, laughter, joy, or an ah-ha moment from coming across it reading, or following - THAT is great!

I love this because it is a moment and space where I get to be the most authenticate version of myself.  So this year I am planning on posting a blog a week -- on whatever.  They will get categorized as we go.  I am also going to go through and post my most epic moments under water.  I have way too much film at this point to catch it all up, but I do want highlights in a specific place.

Also going to start linking out to my book sites (which I have as yet to create) - but these are my lofty goals for me.  

I am still living in Roatan Honduras.  Just closed out year #4.  What an amazing time this has been.  I am fortunate to have made life long friends with both Hondurans, and ex-pats.  I have learned and experienced so much and with Residency, this will always be a place near and dear to my heart.  

So here's to kicking off another year; another season of life.  Looking forward to whatever it brings.

2025 - Already Almost Done

I realized this weekend that I have not added to my blog site much recently.  When I went just now to see how little I have posted, I was startled to see I did not post this year, at all. And I did not publish last year either, although I wrote one draft.

Writing is something I love.  There is very little that makes me happier than to post some words about any topic I am passionate about. So what happened?  

My silence was brought on by several things.  First, let's talk about politics.  The political environment in the USA started to become decisive, hateful, and extremely heated as we all realized that Trump was going to run again, and likely win.

Why was I silent?  Did I not have an opinion? Was there nothing I felt needed to be said?  Neither of those things are or were true.  The reality was, it was easier to just lean back and blend in.  The peacemaker that is the core of my being did not want to deal with hateful rhetoric and speech from people I not only know and care about, but respected. I really just wanted it all to go away.  Disappear.  Go back to a place that did not touch my world in very real and scary ways.

All of a sudden, 24 is past us and we are full up in the thing I feared the most.  2025 is here and we are a country now governed by individuals I can never even begin to see eye to eye with.  We are making decisions on a daily basis that hurt people in other parts of the world.  I am mortified, I am embarrassed, and I now have no acceptable words or explanations when they say, "Why?"

I feel the pain being created for those that are not white middle and upper class.  The change is real... the pain is measurable, and I am again without words. Responding to the level of insanity that we now have is overwhelming at best.

Mostly, I just want to crawl in a hole and hope it is all over.  Soon.  But not sure it ever will be. And this creates the need to have real and serious discussions on everything.  Can we align ourselves with other humans whose goal is destruction of those not like them? 

So the political environment is hard, complex, destructive. I am willfully silent because I am lost, and afraid.  This is number 1.

The second thing though was self-reflection gone sideways.  I decided without ever discussing this or verbalizing it, that I was not worthy of speaking publicly.  I decided if my life could not be perfect, then I had nothing worth saying.  The last 2 years were exceedingly stressful personally, and I made some choices I could have lived without.

I decided that the political hideout I had created had plenty of space to be a personal hideout as well. And this is where I have been.  Hiding out. Acting out. Pretending. Placating. 

This season is now ended.  I blew up the hideout the other day. And when the smoke and dust settled, there it was --- my voice. Good as ever and ready to go back to doing what I do best - speaking my truth. At home, at work, wherever I may be.  

The silent season was important.  It helped accomplish what was needed.  Now moving on.

Aunt Mary I Am Starting To Understand

My Dear Aunt Mary,

If you were still here to talk to, I'd  tell you all about my last few months.  But the thing I would want you to understand is that my eyes were opened.

So let's get everyone caught up.  By the time you moved to Texas, in your 60's, you had to now live with several handicaps. These, brought on not by age, but by an illness that nearly killed you.  But you survived.  You went from being a very lively social worker who jogged in the mornings, volunteered at every event you could, and caretaker of a throng of cats and humans, to a woman who needed help.  You had to use a walker to get around.  You had to work hard to communicate with people. You needed help now and could not be 100% self sufficient any more.

I loved that you were so close to me now, geographically.  I benefited from your move as I got the chance to get to know you,  your sister Adrianne, and all her kids and grandkids, my cousins.

Every week I would drive to Cleburne, sometimes with my then partner Jackie.  We would grab the to do list from the fridge and whip through it checking off every item you needed help with.  And while you greatly appreciated it, the thing you wanted most was for us to slow down, and sit.  Get a tea or a coffee, and just sit and chat.

We were "busy with life", and so we often cut the visit part short, patting ourselves on the back that we had done our part to help. But the "doing" was not what was important to you... it was the human interaction.  It was the time you got to talk and communicate in a meaningful way, the time to have discussions about life and the events taking place in our world, the time to share happiness and joys, and frustrations and anger... it was these moments that you placed the most value in.

Always, you wanted to go eat somewhere and I realize now that it was never about the food.  Eating out was a way to keep us around for just a few more of those moments. Even if you were not doing the talking, the joy on your face and in your eyes revealed how much you cherished every moment of time spent with us, with me.

I finally get it. I sit here writing with tears in my eyes because... [I had to walk away because the tears were coming so hard and fast I could not continue... better now]... I sit with tears because I know I did not always provide what you needed the most.  I made sure the chores were all done, but I sometimes ignored your soul, and what it needed.  And I want you to know I am sorry.  

I know how if you were here, you'd say "Honey, don't cry.  I loved every moment I did get to spend with you... and everyone else that spent time with me."  You would be gracious, and grateful,  and loving.

The last two months I have been at battle with my body.  I contracted double walking pneumonia that just does not want to leave.  I am starting to believe it lingers because I am not getting the non to subtle message from the universe for me.  The message to slow down.  The message to focus on what is important.  The message to pay attention to the souls in my orbit.

I am learning.  I am listening. And I am acting.  I know you are sitting and looking down, and nodding in approval.  Proud that I finally understand.

Asking For Help When We Are Broken

 November 19, 2023

On November 5th I wrote:  On Halloween this year I underwent my third Rotator Cuff Surgery on my right shoulder.  The second year in a row in Honduras.  Having just turned 59, believe it or not, I am in the best shape of my adult life.  I take no medications, my blood pressure is fantastic, my resting heart rate is low.  I am super active diving 4-6 times a week, and attending a body sculpting class two times a week. I walk at every opportunity.  Over the past year and a half I have lost 60 pounds.  And yet, today, I woke up feeling very broken.

On November 14, I went back to the surgeon to get the staples out and find out what his challenges had been, and get my instructions to start PT.  I came home from that appointment and had, as my mother would say, my once a year "mother endorsed" pity party (you only get one).  The reality of being even slightly disabled, of having to ask for help, and have the ever present fact that I am growing older tossed in my face, felt so sad.  I shed a few tears over all of this.

What has come out of it are some healthy realizations, which I will share here now.  First, as always, a story.  My Aunt Mary was one of my idols as I grew up.  She was so much larger than life.  Part of that was due to the fact that I did not get to see her much as I aged, so my beliefs about her were a lot of speculation with facts plugged in here and there.  But what was true was that she was a vary active adult... like me.  She worked in a "people helping field"... like me.  She loved people and interacting with them... like me.  She was always super supportive of whatever crazy thing I announced was my next "thing".  Then one day, and it seemed so sudden, health issues with cancer and cancer treatment took her down.  She almost died. What came out of that was a woman who was clearly disabled; a woman who was forced to swallow her pride and ask for help on an almost daily basis.  When I would drive to her house on a weekend day, we would talk of this often, and how hard it was.  In my mind, I understood what she was saying to me... but I had not walked in those shoes yet... so while I could nod my head... I did not really KNOW what it felt like.

Oh my Aunt Mary!  I now KNOW.  And I had a few moments of regret that I was not MORE compassionate when you were with me!  And that I did not do MORE.  I know you would pat my hand and tell me you love me and that I have done more than I probably should have done... And I take comfort in that fact. I now understand how hard it was every single time to just keep asking... and how relieved you were when we finally just settled on our weekly chore list so you did not have to ask! I am now putting on maybe just your slippers... I do not claim to walk in your shoes, but I finally understand.

Aging with grace is definitely not something that is coming easy to me... I feel that the lessons have just started!  And I am, perhaps, in for quite a ride!

Forever I have been a helper, volunteering to help my friends do the worst, hardest, dirtiest tasks that they had... moving people, family, myself... always pitching in physically. And those days are mostly over.  I can no longer do that.  Once I am rehabilitated, I will have to learn to not just throw myself out there, at least not physically.  I will have to learn to change my focus and figure out how I can help in other ways. And I will have to always and forever ask for help when great physical exertion is necessary. Beliefs I have held regarding myself for quite some time now, have to be adjusted and altered.  A task I may be at for a little while.

Allowing others the blessing of helping is an even more necessary quality that I must quickly learn the art of.  Asking without feeling the need to reciprocate... without setting up reciprocation in advance... Oh this lesson is oh so difficult.  In fact it may be THE HARDEST of all the lessons.  Ask, let them help, say thank you.  The End.

To my friends who just keep asking, even though I say no more than I say yes, THANK YOU.  From my heart you have no idea... just no idea what this means to me.  I will continue to say yes more, and thank you for not giving up on me and dealing with my crazy stubborn ways!

The Secret Creature - Finally

My first published short story is out and available on Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/Secret-Creature-Angela-Wilcox-ebook/dp/B0C8GWFRKN

As I told a friend today, I started this book three decades ago... As a way to kind of talk myself through the follies of having this huge life secret and keeping that to myself.  And the absolute inability when one has done that to be happy.  I quickly realized that for other people, they also had secret creatures that did not look like my own... So I wanted this story to make adults think... And aspire to the benefits of community and growth... And for younger people, I wanted to create a conversation piece for their adults to talk about communication...  and sharing... The art Arlene did is magnificent... Her ideas were so awesome like giving the girl and the creature the same eyes (because really, the girl and the creature are one). It is just full of fun nuggets.  As an allegory, it is more like The Dark Horse or The Precious Present or The Boy, The Mole and The Horse vs like Pilgrims Progress. So don't be scared when I say it is an allegory.  It is so much more.