Amy Jo Hawkins's Blog

During a recent conversation with an old friend, our topic of discussion reminded me of a journal entry that I had written not too long ago. I gave her my best recall effort but promised that I would look for it as soon I had a free moment to re-read it as soon as I could.

After a couple of days of searching through the numerous notebooks and journals on my shelves I finally found my journal. Ironically, the date of the journal entry was 11/5/2019. The day I found it, 11/5/2020. Nah, not freaking crazy in the least.

Well friend, as promised, here it is. I thought you’d want me to share it with the world as well, so here goes.

I hope you all find profound peace and joy during my very favorite time of the year. The time we celebrate all we are grateful for and for all that is to come.

Cheers,

Amy

. . .

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

I just said goodbye and I love you to someone I’ve been holding onto for way too long. She had become like a distant friend over the past years. More and more distant as each year had passed. But this morning, she and I stood at the edge of an island on a cliff overlooking the captivating dark blue waters. I hugged her tight, I kissed her cheek, I told her I loved her, and that I didn’t need her anymore. And then I watched her dive, graciously and gracefully, into the ocean. 

She continued to watch me as I watched her ride the tide further and further out to sea until we both became tiny specks against our different backdrops as our eyes were no longer able to focus. And yet, we could still feel each other’s presence – her red, fiery warmth; my blue calm, coolness.

I don’t want to forget this picture of her and I standing along this cliff. With the sparkling ocean in front of us. It’s vastness, it’s power, it’s calming and soothing comfort. How with each breath – inhale and exhale – she rode the tide. My breath carried her away. My breath was her tide. Closer to me and then further out. My breath was her goodbye.

I felt the closest I had ever felt to her at that very moment.  Acknowledging each other’s strength and power, but also each other’s chaos and rage. I didn’t need her power anymore. I had finally achieved my own sense of strength and power.

I was sad to see her go but knowing that I had sent her away somehow gave me a sense of relief. I was relieved for the strength that I had to do so and that I was now free to move around in my own skin and in my own self. I now had more room to breathe. She tended to control that breath of mine. She would seize my breath for her own. But she has her own freedom now and I have mine. She was rage. She was skepticism and self-doubt. She was worry and angst. She was a fighter – a silent one at best – and successful. She knew just how to pull me back, to harness my spirit.

I believed in her. I admired her control, strength, and abilities. But today I’ve gained my own. She instilled a quality of life that was once upon a time was comfortable and familiar. She was that friend that allowed external forces to define her and then acted on those experiences whenever she felt necessary, and rightfully so. She was a protector. But I no longer need her protection. Today, I have a new quality of life, one that I have defined and determined. One where I allow internal forces to be my source of strength.

Thank you, friend, for all you’ve done and for precisely who you are. For you or me. And you are free. Free from me and now I am free. I will do my best to allow myself to honor the grief I have from letting go of you and losing you, of setting you free, and I free, of one another.

I love you.

Me

It’s obvious there’s an abyss in all of us. That dark place where we fail to explore or simply choose not to. It’s an odd land that rarely ever sees the light. Amidst its depths live unknown species unrecognizable and mysterious. They’re there but they’re most often shrugged off as uninteresting or unfathomable or just plain weird. All of which leads us to tell our selves, “I don’t understand one iota what’s going on with that creature.” Freaking bizarre.

Those species and that abyss are just like all of those emotions we birth that run and hide. Our minds sense the stress and quickly formulate a redirect to move it along, to get it out of our way. It’s often subconscious, like breathing, we don’t even know it’s happening. It makes sense, we have shit to do and no time to deal with that weird and bizarre emotion. Disgusting.

But as a therapist-in-practice, I am keenly aware of the benefit and importance of stepping in before my mind decides to redirect to simply acknowledge (don’t judge, Amy) – the emotion. However, I too get overwhelmed with life at times and my mind in fact takes over. That is until I force myself to slow down and sit. It’s then, and to my surprise, that I realize just how busy my mind has been. Those weird, bizarre species are rising upward in need of light. Which interprets as I am in need to feel. And, well, that could mean a lot of things.

As these intense bizarre creatures make their way to the light, I hear so much. So much, that I needed to write them down…

Come to find out, these creatures aren’t so bizarre after all. They’re mine and they’re uniquely beautiful, inquisitive, and tenacious. They’re full of life and gleaming with desire to be seen and heard for exactly what they are – mine.

Yes, they come with pain at times. And what is pain? An fascinating and wonderful reminder that I am alive. That I am growing, that I am doing hard work, that I love deeply, that I have empathy and sensitive compassion, and that life means so much to me.

Every season that goes by, every accomplishment, every set back, they all leave a trace of that reminder – that an old part has died and new life is abound.

Giant hugs,

Amy Jo

Three years ago I wrote a blog called Bumps in the Road. You know bumps. Those times that all couples face on occasion (some more than others). I talked about how for me, those bumps sometimes felt overwhelming, like impassible mountains, the type that would derail us – our marriage – completely.

At the end of every December I find myself pondering the new year and what goals I would like to work on. But today, I keep coming to a standstill. Is it redundant to say I’m lacking motivation to get motivated for a brand new year, for a new chapter? I keep coming up empty. I somewhat blame it on not being organized, for not sticking to routines, for not writing. What do you think your doing now, Jo??

Oh and I did force myself to write down my WANTS a few days ago.  And not two seconds later there was that voice, you must not want it that much since you have zero motivation. I mean it is fairly easy to put pen to paper to write out a list. It’s the execution part that sucks. Oh, and there it is…my motto screaming back at me #dothework.

I realize there is much more going on. Its not just the new year and trying to figure out what I want for 2018. The entire holiday season has consisted of ‘I’m not feelin’ it’ vibes.  Being a full-time student has a lot to do with this. Its really hard turning off my student brain in order to process and organize all that comes with the holidays; lists, gifts (remembering gift receipts – every dang time I forget), parties, travel, food, drinks, you get the point.  Oh and I can’t forget the business that is always running in the background.

But on top of all of that, there has been so much heaviness that has hit fairly close to home. House fires, tragic accidents, death, breakups, illness and turmoil. All of it has made my heart just plain ache.

And then, its these moments that I am reminded that I GET to be stuck. I get to ponder and think and feel. More importantly, I GET to FORGIVE myself.  Forgive myself for putting so much stress on this NEED to be organized and have 2018 all mapped out. This feeling that if I don’t start off my year properly, like making the bed as soon as you get up (which I highly recommend by the way), it’s going to go poorly.

I set intentions most every day and follow routines and practice good health for my mind, body, and soul – not every single day, but most. Sure there is more I could be doing, but there is also less I could be doing. There is always room for improvement. I think this is precisely what I need to focus on the most.  To remember to FORGIVE MYSELF.  The more I am able to forgive ME, I am quite certain the more all of my wants and intentions won’t be forced into action based on need but instead will just naturally fall into place.

Three years ago I wrote about forgiveness within our marriages and relationships, today I write about forgiveness within our SELF. I’d say that’s a nice improvement:-)

And about those bumps in the road. They’re there for a reason. They are there to determine just how much we WANT to find solutions and improvements. Just how much we WANT to #dothework to overcome and be #betternow.

So I guess I can say 2018 is off to a decent start after all.

May you be encouraged to forgive and may your 2018 be filled with much joy and intentional love for your SELF!

Giant hugs,

Amy Jo

Three years ago I wrote a blog called Bumps in the Road. You know bumps. Those times that all couples face on occasion (some more than others). I talked about how for me, those bumps sometimes felt overwhelming, like impassible mountains, the type that would derail us – our marriage – completely.

At the end of every December I find myself pondering the new year and what goals I would like to work on. But today, I keep coming to a standstill. Is it redundant to say I’m lacking motivation to get motivated for a brand new year, for a new chapter? I keep coming up empty. I somewhat blame it on not being organized, for not sticking to routines, for not writing. What do you think your doing now, Jo??

Oh and I did force myself to write down my WANTS a few days ago.  And not two seconds later there was that voice, you must not want it that much since you have zero motivation. I mean it is fairly easy to put pen to paper to write out a list. It’s the execution part that sucks. Oh and there it is…my motto screaming back at me #dothework.

I realize there is much more going on. Its not just the new year and trying to figure out what I want for 2018. The entire holiday season has consisted of ‘I’m not feelin’ it’ vibes.  Being a full-time student has a lot to do with this. Its really hard turning off my student brain in order to process and organize all that comes with the holidays; lists, gifts (remembering gift receipts – every dang time I forget), parties, travel, food, drinks, you get the point.  Oh and I can’t forget the business that is always running in the background.

But on top of all of that, there has been so much heaviness that has hit fairly close to home. House fires, tragic accidents, death, breakups, illness and turmoil. All of it has made my heart just plain ache.

And then, its these moments that I am reminded that I GET to be stuck. I get to ponder and think and feel. More importantly, I GET to FORGIVE myself.  Forgive myself for putting so much stress on this NEED to be organized and have 2018 all mapped out. This feeling that if I don’t start off my year properly, like making the bed as soon as you get up (which I highly recommend by the way), it’s going to go poorly.

I set intentions most every day and follow routines and practice good health for my mind, body, and soul – not every single day, but most. Sure there is more I could be doing, but there is also less I could be doing. There is always room for improvement. I think this is precisely what I need to focus on the most.  To remember to FORGIVE MYSELF.  The more I am able to forgive ME, I am quite certain the more all of my wants and intentions won’t be forced into action based on need but instead will just naturally fall into place.

Three years ago I wrote about forgiveness within our marriages and relationships, today I write about forgiveness within our SELF. I’d say that’s a nice improvement:-)

And about those bumps in the road. They’re there for a reason. They are there to determine just how much we WANT to find solutions and improvements. Just how much we WANT to #dothework to overcome and be #betternow.

So I guess I can say 2018 is off to a decent start after all.

May you be encouraged to forgive and may your 2018 be filled with much joy and intentional love for your SELF!

Giant hugs,

Amy Jo

I had been hiding for a long time.

Those closest to me at the time knew my struggles and frustration with being a single mom but they also understood and accepted my conflicted yet undying love for my ex-husband (thank God for them). Then there were those acquaintances that watched from the outside with judgement and personal biases that I bought into and often encouraged at times. In order to stay hidden, I engaged in this destructive behavior myself.

Throughout the beginnings of our marriage, I hid.  I was no longer myself.  Neither was my husband.  We had to put on this facade that matched our new titles of husband and wife and mom and dad, even though we had no idea what that even meant.

We were a product of our environments.  We had unresolved baggage from our early beginnings.  And that baggage got thrown out on to the front lawn over and over and over again.  We’d pick up the pieces and shove them back in our suitcases before the sun would rise and anyone would see our mess of dirty garments on the front lawn. It was a taxing process. Constantly pretending all was okay and that we weren’t falling apart at the seams.

What led me to write It Doesn’t Have to be That Way?

Sitting in church, I heard a voice say to me, “tell the story; you need to tell the story.” I brushed it off but it spoke to me a few more times.  Enough to make me pursue it. I couldn’t disagree, the story needed to be told.

What the story wasn’t…

A means to call out blame on anyone or to point fingers; if anything I realized during my writing process that I was responsible for my part of the marriage, even the part that failed.  My biggest fear was sharing my husband’s darkest days and the raw emotion that came from that.

That raw emotion created a sensitive response for some; and that’s okay. Again, while it was not my intention to subject insensitivity to anyone, this story belonged to us.  It was ours and ours to tell.  Maybe the story could’ve been written another way but that would have required me to continue to hide some parts of me.  But that just didn’t feel right.  Especially hiding from emotions or utilizing fear-based decisions.  I had finally learned how to stop doing that so I couldn’t remain true to myself while letting those fears guide the story.

What the story was and is…

The story was/is a spark of hope that through awful, unfathomable destruction – addiction, poverty, abandonment, distrust, divorce, and so much more – resolution and healing can happen and our story is proof of that.  Marriages don’t have to fail.  They can be mended. You can be #betternow!

Writing and publishing our story was a means to explore and embrace the greatest obstacle I’d ever have to overcome in my life – my own fears and insecurities – those very things that I let define me and build my self-worth (or lack of) for so long.  I had to be vulnerable and courageous enough to confront, acknowledge and resolve my internal fears in order to transform my external existence.  Many years of counseling had prepared me for this excursion but in no way could it have primed me for all that was to come.  I exposed myself, my heart, my raw and healing but still bruised and damaged heart.

I can’t expect everyone to understand this, for some just can’t and haven’t come to terms with what they are hiding and that’s okay.  My one and only hope in sharing our story is to help them find courage to do so or the courage to want to do so.

Lastly, I firmly believe that each and every one of our stories should be embraced and shared. They should be set free in the world in order to free ourselves, to free others and more importantly, to develop genuine empathy – something this world seems to be lacking in extreme numbers today. You may think your story isn’t that important or worthy but someone else may need to hear it. #setyourstoryfree

Whatever your story is, please set it free.

I had been hiding for a long time.

Those closest to me at the time knew my struggles and frustration with being a single mom but they also understood and accepted my conflicted yet undying love for my ex-husband (thank God for them). Then there were those acquaintances that watched from the outside with judgement and personal biases that I bought into and often encouraged at times. In order to stay hidden, I engaged in this destructive behavior myself.

Throughout the beginnings of our marriage, I hid.  I was no longer myself.  Neither was my husband.  We had to put on this facade that matched our new titles of husband and wife and mom and dad, even though we had no idea what that even meant.

We were a product of our environments.  We had unresolved baggage from our early beginnings.  And that baggage got thrown out on to the front lawn over and over and over again.  We’d pick up the pieces and shove them back in our suitcases before the sun would rise and anyone would see our mess of dirty garments on the front lawn. It was a taxing process. Constantly pretending all was okay and that we weren’t falling apart at the seams.

What led me to write It Doesn’t Have to be That Way?

Sitting in church, I heard a voice say to me, “tell the story; you need to tell the story.” I brushed it off but it spoke to me a few more times.  Enough to make me pursue it. I couldn’t disagree, the story needed to be told.

What the story wasn’t…

A means to call out blame on anyone or to point fingers; if anything I realized during my writing process that I was responsible for my part of the marriage, even the part that failed.  My biggest fear was sharing my husband’s darkest days and the raw emotion that came from that.

That raw emotion created a sensitive response for some; and that’s okay. Again, while it was not my intention to subject insensitivity to anyone, this story belonged to us.  It was ours and ours to tell.  Maybe the story could’ve been written another way but that would have required me to continue to hide some parts of me.  But that just didn’t feel right.  Especially hiding from emotions or utilizing fear-based decisions.  I had finally learned how to stop doing that so I couldn’t remain true to myself while letting those fears guide the story.

What the story was and is…

The story was/is a spark of hope that through awful, unfathomable destruction – addiction, poverty, abandonment, distrust, divorce, and so much more – resolution and healing can happen and our story is proof of that.  Marriages don’t have to fail.  They can be mended. You can be #betternow!

Writing and publishing our story was a means to explore and embrace the greatest obstacle I’d ever have to overcome in my life – my own fears and insecurities – those very things that I let define me and build my self-worth (or lack of) for so long.  I had to be vulnerable and courageous enough to confront, acknowledge and resolve my internal fears in order to transform my external existence.  Many years of counseling had prepared me for this excursion but in no way could it have primed me for all that was to come.  I exposed myself, my heart, my raw and healing but still bruised and damaged heart.

I can’t expect everyone to understand this, for some just can’t and haven’t come to terms with what they are hiding and that’s okay.  My one and only hope in sharing our story is to help them find courage to do so or the courage to want to do so.

Lastly, I firmly believe that each and every one of our stories should be embraced and shared. They should be set free in the world in order to free ourselves, to free others and more importantly, to develop genuine empathy – something this world seems to be lacking in extreme numbers today. You may think your story isn’t that important or worthy but someone else may need to hear it. #setyourstoryfree

Whatever your story is, please set it free.

My Dearest King-

This past week, even the past two weeks, have plain sucked. Work issues, rumor shit, new diet (with no cocktails), social crap, burst pipes, etc. etc. These issues created a place for you to crawl back into. I was separately finding myself in a dark space of my own. The distance was there. We ignored it and gave extra effort into putting focus on each other. It was strained. We didn’t kiss as much as normal this past week. We bickered and poked at each other. It felt so unnatural. I didn’t find myself worrying at all; just at times concerned for you and your heart. I wanted to take you away from it all. But more so I wanted to turn off all that was racing in your head. I feel like our conversations were few. Phone calls and texts from others were constant. Work was busy. People were in and out of the house. We had to put our clothes back on:-) I think that may have been where some of the discomfort came from. We were feeling so free and sporadic with being naked – amazing how shedding our layers frees us so! Oh, the meaning there. Nonetheless, our week was something out of the pits. We handled everything as best we could but at the same time the distance was there.

After hanging up with you on my way home from orientation tonight, my eyes filled with tears (and are now) as I thought about your voice and hearing you talk to me and well, just how much I am so in love with you. I realized that my annoyance and distance this past week was due to our summer coming to an end. My last free week is over. Back to school.

I then thought back to those times in counseling when the focus would be on me and my fleeting thoughts of going back to school. You would sit next to me on the couch, with your arm around me and just look at me with that look, the “Yeah, it’s time to talk about you and your hopes” look. Back then I was so worried about doing anything for ‘me’ – anything that would take me away from you. I was worried that it would create a divide of sorts. I had no desire to just do my thing and you do your thing-separately. I didn’t want to abandon you and I didn’t want you to abandon me. I was worried that you would feel like I left you if I went to school. I worried that you’d want to do your own thing without my involvement.

Well, here I am, here we are, going into my third year of college. And you’ve been in it every part of the way with me! I started running, you’re there at my races; then school started, you listened to me read my rough drafts, you took surveys for me, you texted me in class, you quizzed me. In no way has this journey been just me doing my own thing. We’ve said it numerous times, quoting Finn from Great Expectations, “Everything I do, I do for you,” and it couldn’t be any more true.

I am where I am, right here, right now, today, at this very moment, because of you being in it every step of the way with me. You have led me through this journey by encouraging me and reminding me to spread my wings and fly. You have pushed me to keep going – to keep running and you’ll be there checking in on me and tracking my pace and more importantly, be at the finish line recording every moment. You’ve made it so I don’t even think about many steps along the way because you’ve got them covered somehow. And at times you’ve left me be – to reflect and write and breathe. And that again you do, by not separating from me, but through keeping watch over my solitude.

We are one. You are my protector, my leader and I am your nurturer, your roots. Together we breathe a type of life that is hard to put into words. A life that many don’t understand. At times we don’t understand. Then again, life is hard. But I wouldn’t want it any other way – with you.

You are my everything.

I love you!

Your Queen

My Dearest King-

This past week, even the past two weeks, have plain sucked. Work issues, rumor shit, new diet (with no cocktails), social crap, burst pipes, etc. etc. These issues created a place for you to crawl back into. I was separately finding myself in a dark space of my own. The distance was there. We ignored it and gave extra effort into putting focus on each other. It was strained. We didn’t kiss as much as normal this past week. We bickered and poked at each other. It felt so unnatural. I didn’t find myself worrying at all; just at times concerned for you and your heart. I wanted to take you away from it all. But more so I wanted to turn off all that was racing in your head. I feel like our conversations were few. Phone calls and texts from others were constant. Work was busy. People were in and out of the house. We had to put our clothes back on:-) I think that may have been where some of the discomfort came from. We were feeling so free and sporadic with being naked – amazing how shedding our layers frees us so! Oh, the meaning there. Nonetheless, our week was something out of the pits. We handled everything as best we could but at the same time the distance was there.

After hanging up with you on my way home from orientation tonight, my eyes filled with tears (and are now) as I thought about your voice and hearing you talk to me and well, just how much I am so in love with you. I realized that my annoyance and distance this past week was due to our summer coming to an end. My last free week is over. Back to school.

I then thought back to those times in counseling when the focus would be on me and my fleeting thoughts of going back to school. You would sit next to me on the couch, with your arm around me and just look at me with that look, the “Yeah, it’s time to talk about you and your hopes” look. Back then I was so worried about doing anything for ‘me’ – anything that would take me away from you. I was worried that it would create a divide of sorts. I had no desire to just do my thing and you do your thing-separately. I didn’t want to abandon you and I didn’t want you to abandon me. I was worried that you would feel like I left you if I went to school. I worried that you’d want to do your own thing without my involvement.

Well, here I am, here we are, going into my third year of college. And you’ve been in it every part of the way with me! I started running, you’re there at my races; then school started, you listened to me read my rough drafts, you took surveys for me, you texted me in class, you quizzed me. In no way has this journey been just me doing my own thing. We’ve said it numerous times, quoting Finn from Great Expectations, “Everything I do, I do for you,” and it couldn’t be any more true.

I am where I am, right here, right now, today, at this very moment, because of you being in it every step of the way with me. You have led me through this journey by encouraging me and reminding me to spread my wings and fly. You have pushed me to keep going – to keep running and you’ll be there checking in on me and tracking my pace and more importantly, be at the finish line recording every moment. You’ve made it so I don’t even think about many steps along the way because you’ve got them covered somehow. And at times you’ve left me be – to reflect and write and breathe. And that again you do, by not separating from me, but through keeping watch over my solitude.

We are one. You are my protector, my leader and I am your nurturer, your roots. Together we breathe a type of life that is hard to put into words. A life that many don’t understand. At times we don’t understand. Then again, life is hard. But I wouldn’t want it any other way – with you.

You are my everything.

I love you!

Your Queen

My hyper-protection was a means to overcompensate for the lack of real protection I was able to give. I kept you fed, clean, out harms way, away from people that I thought would ‘contaminate’ your innocent being. I didn’t want to leave you with others in fear that they may harm you like they harmed me (when I was your young age).

Having a child, while a miracle of life in itself, filled my heart with abundant, unconditional joy and love; it subconsciously reminded me of my child-like self that lacked some essential needs and that scared the shit out of me. I wanted to shield you from the world. But our little world was a million times more destructive than what was going on outside those walls. God, I wish I would’ve known that back then. We weren’t there for you. We failed your basic emotional needs – trust, commitment, confidence, stability, safety and guidance.

You were such a good baby, sweet, loving, charming, creative, smart, talented, you never wanted to do wrong. We praised you for these things. Selfishly your being so smart and talented and praising you for that made me feel like I was doing something good or right as a parent (ah, I could do something right). I worry that these failures led to too much stress in your later years. That praise may have become a burden placed on your shoulders to achieve more and therefore, defining your worth through those achievements. It may have pushed you into a path of perfectionism that, well honestly isn’t a thing.

Nothing can be perfect especially us humans. Instead, perfectionism is a way to stay isolated. It’s a means to deflect shame and hurt. Your heart deserved – deserves – to feel that you are enough. As a young child, I prayed for your safety and health and that you would be surrounded by good souls. My prayer for you today is that you can sink into the belief that YOU, just you, are absolutely enough!!

And please know that I failed, as a woman at those times in my life not because you were given to me, but because I never believed that I was enough. Not one day, not ever, did I or do I not thank God for you!! You’re a part of me. You’re a part of your dad. We created your life and your life has recreated mine. And, for that I will be eternally grateful.

Love you more than you know,

Mom