Aliki asked me today: "How ARE you?"
This got me thinking about the nature of the question.
In most cases, it can be a pretty pedestrian question.
You could walk into an A&P and ask someone, "How are you?"
You would most likely get an, "I'm fine and you?" in return.
Most of the time, the question is asked without any real answer.
Most of the time, you ask the question and you don't want the answer.
I also know that I'm usually a caretaker-type personality.
I'm usually the one that people are coming to for help, advice, and guidance (in real life).
So rarely am I asked the question.
And that is OK.
Most of the time, I am OK.
There usually isn't much to tell.
I'm a pretty open book.
So, when I opened my gmail and saw the comment (in the form of an email) where Aliki asked the question, it made me smile. It made me stop for a moment and ask myself:
How ARE you?
Rather a simple question.
It shouldn't be hard to answer.
But it is.
Today it is. Well, sort of.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I made a lot of progress this past year letting go of the little girl who was screaming on the inside.
But she's back.
She's back after my mom told me that she is leaving my stepdad.
I'm a grown woman, I know.
But the way in which my mom does this knee-jerk reaction thing and well,
running
just brings back some memories which I thought were long dealt with.
On a less selfish, egotistical note
I'm thinking of the implications this will have on Connor and Gracie.
Rav & I have been dealing with a family issue which I really am not at liberty to discuss here.
While it has certainly taken its toll, it has only helped us to talk through some things and take stock.
The ripple effects are heartbreaking.
I'm going through yet another spiritual awakening of sorts and have
come to some realizations that are wonderful, scary, and comforting
all at once. I'd love to blog about this, but I don't know if it will ever come about.
The biggest thing is that, despite turmoil and stress, I'm staying even. I'm not hiding.
I'm good.
Rav and I are strong in our relationship. We have our days, like we all do. But I am so, so thankful for our solid relationship.
I realize how connected we are and how we are lucky to still have passion.
Ours isn't a perfect life.
Far from it.
But we've made it together.
We work hard at it.
And it's perfect for us.
So, to answer the question:
At the end of the day.
When my head hits the pillow
I am thankful.
And I am good.
Showing posts with label Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Me. Show all posts
7/28/08
10/30/07
My Nature From My Nurture
I wanted to thank all of you for your kind words and your supportive comments.
And the general tone that my post conveyed was that of an existential crisis.
I thought I would take the time to clear up my vague-ness.
The existential crisis hit me in the earlier part of my 20's - shortly after giving birth to Connor.
Giving birth allowed me to look at death with a whole new set of eyes.
It allowed me to further look into legacies and what this whole thing called life is really about.
It left me sleepless and frantic many a night as I looked over in the bassinet at my new baby boy and asked the heavens to keep me alive as long as possible so I wouldn't miss out on anything.
But that is not what I am fighting today. Oh no. In fact, I would take the whole existential bit over what is floating up to the surface right now.
The forgotten feeling I was speaking of is a feeling of emotional isolation and abandonment.
A feeling so ingrained that it has become part of my self-concept.
This was not something that was taught systematically, like teaching a child to tie his or her shoes.
This was something that was learned by non-verbals, observations, and certain choices made over a my childhood lifetime by the adults in my life.
Unfortunately, it is still there.
The thing that is of great discomfort to me right now is that I have been facing the fact that it is happening again to me with other people in my life.
I'm left feeling like the little girl asking herself What is wrong with me? Why am I not worthy?
Over the years, I have learned to shake that.
And for quite awhile I have felt my new, true self take root.
However, the ghost of my youth is back.
And her heart aches.
She's working it out.
I know she is.
It's an icky, messy, painful process.
My adult mind and body has to act as the vehicle for all of these childhood pains to pass through.
Some of you, who have been reading long enough, know the back story. I've shared as much as I can out here. There is more to the story that I simply cannot find the words for tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. I'm just not sure yet.
Joker, I want to thank you for your comment. If you had not said what you said on yesterday's post, I probably would not be doing this one. You read through exactly to what I was trying to say and I found such great comfort in it. Thank you, love. I know that I am not alone.
And the general tone that my post conveyed was that of an existential crisis.
I thought I would take the time to clear up my vague-ness.
The existential crisis hit me in the earlier part of my 20's - shortly after giving birth to Connor.
Giving birth allowed me to look at death with a whole new set of eyes.
It allowed me to further look into legacies and what this whole thing called life is really about.
It left me sleepless and frantic many a night as I looked over in the bassinet at my new baby boy and asked the heavens to keep me alive as long as possible so I wouldn't miss out on anything.
But that is not what I am fighting today. Oh no. In fact, I would take the whole existential bit over what is floating up to the surface right now.
The forgotten feeling I was speaking of is a feeling of emotional isolation and abandonment.
A feeling so ingrained that it has become part of my self-concept.
This was not something that was taught systematically, like teaching a child to tie his or her shoes.
This was something that was learned by non-verbals, observations, and certain choices made over a my childhood lifetime by the adults in my life.
Unfortunately, it is still there.
The thing that is of great discomfort to me right now is that I have been facing the fact that it is happening again to me with other people in my life.
I'm left feeling like the little girl asking herself What is wrong with me? Why am I not worthy?
Over the years, I have learned to shake that.
And for quite awhile I have felt my new, true self take root.
However, the ghost of my youth is back.
And her heart aches.
She's working it out.
I know she is.
It's an icky, messy, painful process.
My adult mind and body has to act as the vehicle for all of these childhood pains to pass through.
Some of you, who have been reading long enough, know the back story. I've shared as much as I can out here. There is more to the story that I simply cannot find the words for tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. I'm just not sure yet.
Joker, I want to thank you for your comment. If you had not said what you said on yesterday's post, I probably would not be doing this one. You read through exactly to what I was trying to say and I found such great comfort in it. Thank you, love. I know that I am not alone.
10/29/07
Cellophane. Shoulda Been My Name.
I'm almost afraid to post this.
No. Scratch that.
I am afraid to post this.
I've put myself out there before in this here spot before with pretty messy consequences.
But I've got to get some of this out in an attempt to clear my mind, in an attempt to work it through and let it go.
I'm hoping that when it's all said and done, I will watch it float away.
A red balloon of my irrational thoughts that I will send out in the void.
I will let them go and watch them float of into oblivion until they are the size of a pinhead and then disappear.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I had a feeling that, after a few quiet days and some physical labor, in the form of intense cleaning and heavy lifting of household furniture, that there would be an internal break.
A flood.
The dams and leveys that have been holding me back were bound to break.
Last night, in bed, it happened.
I broke.
My head ached like I've never had my head ache before.
The pain so intense.
Usually, crying is a bittersweet release.
It only hurt more to cry. Physically hurt.
At one point, I said to Rav
I feel like I am on the brink of madness.
It took me about a half an hour of crying to get out one word.
A half an hour.
To speak but a few words.
To speak the words that I so fought against.
And when I finally had the ability to speak this is what I said ( in a nutshell):
I feel like I am completely forgettable.
Being the nice guy he is and the ever-devoted husband, he of course, argued this.
And it is a nice sentiment. Really. That he says that I am not.
But it doesn't change the fact that someone feels that way.
After an entire lifetime of feeling it.
Some of it may be self-inflicted and as a result/circumstances of an ever-changing life.
Some of it may be my inability to properly cultivate relationships - in real life and out here.
Some of it may simply be residual hauntings of a past life.
Which, despite all of my personal growth and status as a "big-girl", leaves me still feeling it from time to time.
Now don't get me wrong.
I'm airing.
I'm not trying to throw myself a pity party.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
After a few more dull thuds of pain behind my eyeballs and forehead, I managed to get out that I believe this emotional upheaval I've been facing is a direct result of my reiki treatment.
Rav was not pleased to hear me say this. Not in the least bit.
I don't think she did this to me. Quite the opposite. It was there already. But the treatment was like a hot compress to a pimple. It just drew out what was already there.
I began discussing how I feel disconnected from my BFF, from my other close girl-friend, this here blog and the people I've been trying to cultivate relationships with, even Three Dog Night Dad.
I told him how someone once told me the reason people "forget about me" is because I am often too laid back and not demanding enough - I'm not the squeaky wheel.
I'm the one people turn to, IRL, but when it comes time for me to need someone, everyone else has vacated.
And I just hold it all in.
Until the damn breaks.
Which it always does.
And what a mess it makes.
Rav's response to my blubbering purging was that I am fiercely loyal. I am strong, independent - a giver. I give so much of myself and expect so much from myself, so I in-turn, expect a lot from others.
The problem with this, he indicates, is that most people are not willing to give back, equally.
And I see his point.
To a certain extent.
I don't give of myself simply for what I will gain in return.
I don't offer up my loyalties and my friendship hoping to gain any "extras".
I do it because it is me and it is in my heart to do so.
And for no other reasons.
Right now, it is just a lonely place to be.
And I hope that it is just my irrational feelings
that are leaving me with the impressions
of being forgettable.
No. Scratch that.
I am afraid to post this.
I've put myself out there before in this here spot before with pretty messy consequences.
But I've got to get some of this out in an attempt to clear my mind, in an attempt to work it through and let it go.
I'm hoping that when it's all said and done, I will watch it float away.
A red balloon of my irrational thoughts that I will send out in the void.
I will let them go and watch them float of into oblivion until they are the size of a pinhead and then disappear.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I had a feeling that, after a few quiet days and some physical labor, in the form of intense cleaning and heavy lifting of household furniture, that there would be an internal break.
A flood.
The dams and leveys that have been holding me back were bound to break.
Last night, in bed, it happened.
I broke.
My head ached like I've never had my head ache before.
The pain so intense.
Usually, crying is a bittersweet release.
It only hurt more to cry. Physically hurt.
At one point, I said to Rav
I feel like I am on the brink of madness.
It took me about a half an hour of crying to get out one word.
A half an hour.
To speak but a few words.
To speak the words that I so fought against.
And when I finally had the ability to speak this is what I said ( in a nutshell):
I feel like I am completely forgettable.
Being the nice guy he is and the ever-devoted husband, he of course, argued this.
And it is a nice sentiment. Really. That he says that I am not.
But it doesn't change the fact that someone feels that way.
After an entire lifetime of feeling it.
Some of it may be self-inflicted and as a result/circumstances of an ever-changing life.
Some of it may be my inability to properly cultivate relationships - in real life and out here.
Some of it may simply be residual hauntings of a past life.
Which, despite all of my personal growth and status as a "big-girl", leaves me still feeling it from time to time.
Now don't get me wrong.
I'm airing.
I'm not trying to throw myself a pity party.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
After a few more dull thuds of pain behind my eyeballs and forehead, I managed to get out that I believe this emotional upheaval I've been facing is a direct result of my reiki treatment.
Rav was not pleased to hear me say this. Not in the least bit.
I don't think she did this to me. Quite the opposite. It was there already. But the treatment was like a hot compress to a pimple. It just drew out what was already there.
I began discussing how I feel disconnected from my BFF, from my other close girl-friend, this here blog and the people I've been trying to cultivate relationships with, even Three Dog Night Dad.
I told him how someone once told me the reason people "forget about me" is because I am often too laid back and not demanding enough - I'm not the squeaky wheel.
I'm the one people turn to, IRL, but when it comes time for me to need someone, everyone else has vacated.
And I just hold it all in.
Until the damn breaks.
Which it always does.
And what a mess it makes.
Rav's response to my blubbering purging was that I am fiercely loyal. I am strong, independent - a giver. I give so much of myself and expect so much from myself, so I in-turn, expect a lot from others.
The problem with this, he indicates, is that most people are not willing to give back, equally.
And I see his point.
To a certain extent.
I don't give of myself simply for what I will gain in return.
I don't offer up my loyalties and my friendship hoping to gain any "extras".
I do it because it is me and it is in my heart to do so.
And for no other reasons.
Right now, it is just a lonely place to be.
And I hope that it is just my irrational feelings
that are leaving me with the impressions
of being forgettable.
10/8/07
How My Heart Behaves
I truly believe that certain events happen and certain people walk in or out of our lives for specific reasons. We don't always know what they are, but it happens. Sometimes it is subtle sometimes more profound.
I am a firm believer in this.
For example, this morning I got up and made my way straight to the computer (which I usually don't do), I went straight to my blog, and clicked on Oh, The Joys link in my sidebar. There was virtually no thought in it. It was as if I was on autopilot. It was just something I felt like I had to do before I did anything else.
I read her post and thought to myself Thank god I did this. I am so glad I didn't wait any longer.
Granted that her world would not collapse in on itself because she hadn't heard from me yet.
But
I felt that it was so important for me to acknowledge what is going on over her way right now.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
We were in Baltimore this past weekend and not long after we had arrived and began walking our way to the venue, I saw a woman on the opposite side of the street who appeared like she needed some assistance. She was well-dressed, carrying a big purse. And she was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, slouched forward. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She would stumble and sway. I kept waiting for her to just fall right over. People would walk by her and look with puzzled expressions and move on their way.
Included in those people were me, Rav, and the two other people we were with.
I spotted a security guard and was going to alert her to the condition of this woman.
But something else took hold of me and I did not do it.
All night and all of the next day, I would see the woman pop up in my mind's eye and I felt this terrible brick in my stomach for not doing something.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Those of you who have been reading for some time know that I was helping people that I was running into for quite awhile. And my safety may have been jeopardized at one point or another.
And I struggled with how I could do what needed to be done & not be stupid or unsafe.
This problem was compounded even more by the fact that I felt it was happening for a reason.
I felt that I was crossing paths with these individuals for a very specific purpose.
And the thing that I have realized is this:
It feels way worse for me to not do anything and be "safe".
It's this nasty, hard, thick brick in my stomach.
The whole diffusion of responsibility mentality that just doesn't sit well with me.
I think it way worse to not act. To shrug my shoulders and turn my head, close my eyes and
a)hope that the next person who comes along will help.
or
b)be completely cold, empty-hearted, and oblivious.
It's not my style and it just plain old does not feel good.
It feels inherently wrong.
It is a moral issue with me.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I know that I can't cure poverty or eradicate the use of highly addictive drugs.
I know that I cannot cure every ailing soul.
For every one person I help, there is an infinite line of people behind them.
I know that my bagged lunches, my $1 here and there do not solve the world's problems.
I know this. I do.
And I know that it is important for the people who care for me know that I am safe.
However, I know that it is not in me to continue to turn a blind eye.
I simply cannot do it. It doesn't feel right.
And that is just how my heart behaves.
I am a firm believer in this.
For example, this morning I got up and made my way straight to the computer (which I usually don't do), I went straight to my blog, and clicked on Oh, The Joys link in my sidebar. There was virtually no thought in it. It was as if I was on autopilot. It was just something I felt like I had to do before I did anything else.
I read her post and thought to myself Thank god I did this. I am so glad I didn't wait any longer.
Granted that her world would not collapse in on itself because she hadn't heard from me yet.
But
I felt that it was so important for me to acknowledge what is going on over her way right now.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
We were in Baltimore this past weekend and not long after we had arrived and began walking our way to the venue, I saw a woman on the opposite side of the street who appeared like she needed some assistance. She was well-dressed, carrying a big purse. And she was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, slouched forward. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She would stumble and sway. I kept waiting for her to just fall right over. People would walk by her and look with puzzled expressions and move on their way.
Included in those people were me, Rav, and the two other people we were with.
I spotted a security guard and was going to alert her to the condition of this woman.
But something else took hold of me and I did not do it.
All night and all of the next day, I would see the woman pop up in my mind's eye and I felt this terrible brick in my stomach for not doing something.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Those of you who have been reading for some time know that I was helping people that I was running into for quite awhile. And my safety may have been jeopardized at one point or another.
And I struggled with how I could do what needed to be done & not be stupid or unsafe.
This problem was compounded even more by the fact that I felt it was happening for a reason.
I felt that I was crossing paths with these individuals for a very specific purpose.
And the thing that I have realized is this:
It feels way worse for me to not do anything and be "safe".
It's this nasty, hard, thick brick in my stomach.
The whole diffusion of responsibility mentality that just doesn't sit well with me.
I think it way worse to not act. To shrug my shoulders and turn my head, close my eyes and
a)hope that the next person who comes along will help.
or
b)be completely cold, empty-hearted, and oblivious.
It's not my style and it just plain old does not feel good.
It feels inherently wrong.
It is a moral issue with me.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I know that I can't cure poverty or eradicate the use of highly addictive drugs.
I know that I cannot cure every ailing soul.
For every one person I help, there is an infinite line of people behind them.
I know that my bagged lunches, my $1 here and there do not solve the world's problems.
I know this. I do.
And I know that it is important for the people who care for me know that I am safe.
However, I know that it is not in me to continue to turn a blind eye.
I simply cannot do it. It doesn't feel right.
And that is just how my heart behaves.
9/30/07
Sunday (Morning) Song of the Moment
** Edited**
I removed the original youtube video of this song that I had posted after I discovered that it did not contain the entire song....I added a better youtube version.
So sorry this one is a wee late. Today was spent in the delights of crisp blue skies, a quick nip on the skin from just the slightest bite of cold in the morning air.
The air smelled of possibility.
We took the kids to our favorite diner. The kids ate well.
Rav dove into some Pumpkin pancakes that were to die for.
If you were to ask me, at the age of 21, if I saw myself with two kids and a husband at 28, I probably would have wrinkled my nose,shrugged my shoulders and said
You just never know.
I try to, on a daily basis understand this world we live in.
I struggle with trying to make sense of, not necessarily for myself anymore, but for these two precious souls who are in my care.
I've been looking back lately, smiling and nodding at accomplishments and personal growth.
I sometimes cringe at the car wrecks I've found myself involved in.
I remember on more than one occasion wondering if I'd ever make it through.
And I always have.
Sure I might have a few battle scars - visible and not.
And for all that I have learned, there is still so much more to learn.
I'm itching for the journey ahead, whatever that may be.
Knowing me and the way things go
it'll be one amazing, scary, wild, and completely enjoyable ride.
I hope you enjoy the song. It's nothing newly discovered or obscure.
On The Road to Find Out ~ Cat Stevens
It just fits right into a quiet little spot in my heart and mind right now.
And I just thought I'd share.
I hope you all are enjoying this early fall, day.
I removed the original youtube video of this song that I had posted after I discovered that it did not contain the entire song....I added a better youtube version.
So sorry this one is a wee late. Today was spent in the delights of crisp blue skies, a quick nip on the skin from just the slightest bite of cold in the morning air.
The air smelled of possibility.
We took the kids to our favorite diner. The kids ate well.
Rav dove into some Pumpkin pancakes that were to die for.
If you were to ask me, at the age of 21, if I saw myself with two kids and a husband at 28, I probably would have wrinkled my nose,shrugged my shoulders and said
You just never know.
I try to, on a daily basis understand this world we live in.
I struggle with trying to make sense of, not necessarily for myself anymore, but for these two precious souls who are in my care.
I've been looking back lately, smiling and nodding at accomplishments and personal growth.
I sometimes cringe at the car wrecks I've found myself involved in.
I remember on more than one occasion wondering if I'd ever make it through.
And I always have.
Sure I might have a few battle scars - visible and not.
And for all that I have learned, there is still so much more to learn.
I'm itching for the journey ahead, whatever that may be.
Knowing me and the way things go
it'll be one amazing, scary, wild, and completely enjoyable ride.
I hope you enjoy the song. It's nothing newly discovered or obscure.
On The Road to Find Out ~ Cat Stevens
It just fits right into a quiet little spot in my heart and mind right now.
And I just thought I'd share.
I hope you all are enjoying this early fall, day.
9/24/07
29er-Ish
In approximately two weeks, my calendar will turn yet again.
With that approach, I will be hitting my third decade. I will teeter there and wait for three-oh to grab hold.
(Oh, shush. I know you're all rolling your eyes at me. I know that I'm the baby of the "group".)
I feel that as such, this marks the end of something.
And not necessarily in a bad way.
But it definitely has the closing of a chapter feel.
And because of this, I have decided
A) that I need to celebrate this birthday - as I usually don't celebrate myself on my birthday.
and
B) I have been doing more introspection and self-evaluation than I normally do. (which means I've been doing A LOT).
I've been thinking about all that has been wrapped up, accomplished, discovered, and experienced in these two decades.
The roads have been rough, meandering.
Making their way to smoother, more purposeful ones.
I have found pieces of myself that I had thought were long gone and had become useless litter that lined my road.
I have learned how to (more) easily identify that meaningful "litter" that I discarded without knowing any better and the "litter" that is simply just that...trash.
Whether that be unhealthy people, habits, or mindsets.
I have become much more comfortable with this personality of mine, this essence that spans more than the (almost) three decades.
For it reaches much farther back.
It resides in the 1940's.
Completely skips over the 1950's.
And picks back up again in the late 60's-early 70's.
I was born before my time - if that makes any sense.
I'm simply an old soul.
And I've come to accept that as OK.
It's OK that I may be the only 20-something who watched Are You Being Served? and Laugh-In (on Nick-at-Nite with Three Dog Night Dad & Eileen) growing up.
It's totally rockin'(I think)that I get goosebumps when I see 40's era cars, clothing, and hear 40's era music.
Which brings me to the next...
I've embraced my inner geek.
And that's all I have to say on that.
These things I've listed above have always been a part of me.
But this year.
This year
I've grown into them.
They fit now.
I'm much more OK with me than I was ever before.
Not to say that there isn't more work to be done.
I'm still struggling with things.
There is still so much left to do, left to learn, left to explore.
There are inner boundaries that I want to push just a bit farther.
With all of these inner victories that I have won this year
it does make me eager to see what the year between
29 and 30 will bring.
With that approach, I will be hitting my third decade. I will teeter there and wait for three-oh to grab hold.
(Oh, shush. I know you're all rolling your eyes at me. I know that I'm the baby of the "group".)
I feel that as such, this marks the end of something.
And not necessarily in a bad way.
But it definitely has the closing of a chapter feel.
And because of this, I have decided
A) that I need to celebrate this birthday - as I usually don't celebrate myself on my birthday.
and
B) I have been doing more introspection and self-evaluation than I normally do. (which means I've been doing A LOT).
I've been thinking about all that has been wrapped up, accomplished, discovered, and experienced in these two decades.
The roads have been rough, meandering.
Making their way to smoother, more purposeful ones.
I have found pieces of myself that I had thought were long gone and had become useless litter that lined my road.
I have learned how to (more) easily identify that meaningful "litter" that I discarded without knowing any better and the "litter" that is simply just that...trash.
Whether that be unhealthy people, habits, or mindsets.
I have become much more comfortable with this personality of mine, this essence that spans more than the (almost) three decades.
For it reaches much farther back.
It resides in the 1940's.
Completely skips over the 1950's.
And picks back up again in the late 60's-early 70's.
I was born before my time - if that makes any sense.
I'm simply an old soul.
And I've come to accept that as OK.
It's OK that I may be the only 20-something who watched Are You Being Served? and Laugh-In (on Nick-at-Nite with Three Dog Night Dad & Eileen) growing up.
It's totally rockin'(I think)that I get goosebumps when I see 40's era cars, clothing, and hear 40's era music.
Which brings me to the next...
I've embraced my inner geek.
And that's all I have to say on that.
These things I've listed above have always been a part of me.
But this year.
This year
I've grown into them.
They fit now.
I'm much more OK with me than I was ever before.
Not to say that there isn't more work to be done.
I'm still struggling with things.
There is still so much left to do, left to learn, left to explore.
There are inner boundaries that I want to push just a bit farther.
With all of these inner victories that I have won this year
it does make me eager to see what the year between
29 and 30 will bring.
9/6/07
On Yesterdays and Tomorrows
When I think about how to make this world a better place, I instantly look to the generation that is waiting-in-the-wings.
The ones that don't even know that the weight has been placed upon them.
I think about what a load that is for these up-comers to bear. Considering their ages haven't even hit double-digits yet.
That it is completely up to them to rid the world of the nasties.
But that is faulty logic.
We, the adults - the generation of the now, might not be able to fix things but it is up to us to set the examples and to lead accordingly.
I got to thinking about how my compassionate heart became that way. How as much of a spit-fire I can be IRL, I am or try to be, kind. I tend to see things that others might not where other people are concerned.
And I got to thinking about how that came about.
I reflected on the adults in my life that fashioned and molded me. The adults who made the most postive lasting impressions.
You all are probably rolling your eyes and sighing, saying to yourselves Yeah, we know. We know. Your dad and that damned reggae music. Sheesh. Shut your pie-hole, would ya?
And while yes, my dad had the major positive influence on me, my compassion, my kindness, my manners came from my grandmother (my dad's mom).
She was the one that taught me to think of others first.
To always be polite.
To welcome anyone - to try and make them feel at home.
If anything, my grandmother was about propriety. And I don't mean that in a snooty way.
She just strongly felt that you should act a certain way to other people. And that way was always kind and polite.
And many others had their hands in the pot as far as the shaping-of-me went.
There were religious leaders, parishioners of our church, teachers, other relatives, etc.
It certainly wasn't any one person.
There were many.
I see how our society really gears toward the individualistic approach to things and I can't help but to think how sad it is.
And I reflect about how we push our kids to be independent, to not need anyone. Or at least need others as little as possible.
And then how shocked we are when they do find their wings and find their way and gain that independence, we scratch our heads and wonder
Why don't they need us? Why don't they come around?
I think about the gaping hole that would be left behind in my spirit or creative mind had I not been influenced by Mrs. Duncan, my 4th & 5th grade art teacher.
The battered little girl (emotionally) who never asked for hugs, but got them on a daily basis from Mrs. Bridge nee Pokoiski.
Or the feeling of belonging to something bigger at Christ Episcopal Church because of Rev. Lindermann, Mrs. Budd, Mr. & Mrs. Warren, Mr. Mitchell, Mrs. Bright, Mrs. Bonner and all of my friends in my sunday school class.
Or the unconditional love from Aunt Marie, Aunt Vicki, my Dad, Eileen (my stepmom), and my younger brothers and my mom.
The list could go on.
I might be in my metamorphosis stage right now. And I am certainly still working on myself to help better the world. I'm still trying to figure out what that means for me, exactly.
And those people above had a hand in it.
When I feel my heart overflow for someone, it is because of the love and caring that these people have showered on me.
And adults everywhere should be so mindful of the little eyes that look up to us and the little hands that need holding.
While they may be the future
We are the now.
The ones that don't even know that the weight has been placed upon them.
I think about what a load that is for these up-comers to bear. Considering their ages haven't even hit double-digits yet.
That it is completely up to them to rid the world of the nasties.
But that is faulty logic.
We, the adults - the generation of the now, might not be able to fix things but it is up to us to set the examples and to lead accordingly.
I got to thinking about how my compassionate heart became that way. How as much of a spit-fire I can be IRL, I am or try to be, kind. I tend to see things that others might not where other people are concerned.
And I got to thinking about how that came about.
I reflected on the adults in my life that fashioned and molded me. The adults who made the most postive lasting impressions.
You all are probably rolling your eyes and sighing, saying to yourselves Yeah, we know. We know. Your dad and that damned reggae music. Sheesh. Shut your pie-hole, would ya?
And while yes, my dad had the major positive influence on me, my compassion, my kindness, my manners came from my grandmother (my dad's mom).
She was the one that taught me to think of others first.
To always be polite.
To welcome anyone - to try and make them feel at home.
If anything, my grandmother was about propriety. And I don't mean that in a snooty way.
She just strongly felt that you should act a certain way to other people. And that way was always kind and polite.
And many others had their hands in the pot as far as the shaping-of-me went.
There were religious leaders, parishioners of our church, teachers, other relatives, etc.
It certainly wasn't any one person.
There were many.
I see how our society really gears toward the individualistic approach to things and I can't help but to think how sad it is.
And I reflect about how we push our kids to be independent, to not need anyone. Or at least need others as little as possible.
And then how shocked we are when they do find their wings and find their way and gain that independence, we scratch our heads and wonder
Why don't they need us? Why don't they come around?
I think about the gaping hole that would be left behind in my spirit or creative mind had I not been influenced by Mrs. Duncan, my 4th & 5th grade art teacher.
The battered little girl (emotionally) who never asked for hugs, but got them on a daily basis from Mrs. Bridge nee Pokoiski.
Or the feeling of belonging to something bigger at Christ Episcopal Church because of Rev. Lindermann, Mrs. Budd, Mr. & Mrs. Warren, Mr. Mitchell, Mrs. Bright, Mrs. Bonner and all of my friends in my sunday school class.
Or the unconditional love from Aunt Marie, Aunt Vicki, my Dad, Eileen (my stepmom), and my younger brothers and my mom.
The list could go on.
I might be in my metamorphosis stage right now. And I am certainly still working on myself to help better the world. I'm still trying to figure out what that means for me, exactly.
And those people above had a hand in it.
When I feel my heart overflow for someone, it is because of the love and caring that these people have showered on me.
And adults everywhere should be so mindful of the little eyes that look up to us and the little hands that need holding.
While they may be the future
We are the now.
8/30/07
Just Because......
I am absolutely exhausted for no good reason and I felt like doing something tedious, I present you a complete list of artists that reside in my iPod right now. Feel like poking your eyes out with a shrimp fork yet? If the answer is no, just try to read the post below and you will. This post was inspired by a post over at Phenom's World. So you have him to thank for this :)!! (just kidding, don't send him any hate mail)
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
50Cent The88 AC/DC Aimee Mann Al B. Sure All-American Rejects Amos Lee Amy Winehouse Animal Liberation Orchestra Aqualung Aretha Franklin The Beatles Ben Folds Five Ben Harper Billie Holiday Blink 182 Blue Merle Bob Marley Bobby Darin Bonnie Raitt Bright Eyes Bruce Springsteen Cat Stevens Chamillionaire Cibo Matto Coldplay Colm Wilkinson Corinne Bailey Rae Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young Damien Rice Dashboard Confessional Dave Matthews Band David Bowie David Gray Death Cab For Cutie Depeche Mode Dire Straits Dixie Chicks Donovan Frankenreiter The Eagles The Eels Elizabeth Mitchell & Lisa Loeb Elton John Elvis Costello Fall Out Boy Feist Fergie Fiona Apple Foo Fighters Frank Black Frank Sinatra The Fray G. Love & Special Sauce Garth Brooks Glenn Miller Gorillaz Gran Bel Fisher Indigo Girls J-Kwon Jack Johnson James Blunt James Brown Jay-Z John Butler Trio John Corbett John Mayer John Williamson Johnny Cash Joni Mitchell Jose Gonzalez Josh Ritter Josh Rouse Joss Stone Judy Garland Justin Timberlake Kelly Clarkson Keren Ann The Killers The Knife KT Tunstall Led Zeppelin Les Miserables The Little Willies Louis Jordan & Chris Barber Lucinda Williams Ludwig van Beethoven Lynrd Skynrd Macy Gray Madeleine Peyroux Mahalia Jackson Mama Cass Mary Poppins Marvin Gaye Mary Chapin Carpenter Massive Attack Matt Costa Me'Shell Ndegeocello Merle Haggard Michael Buble Moms Mabley My Chemical Romance Mystikal Nat King Cole Ne-Yo Neil Diamond Neil Young Neko Case Nickel Creek Norah Jones Otis Redding Pat McGee Band Paul McCartney Paul Simon Pearl Bailey & Moms Mabley Peter Gabriel Pink Prince Professor Longhair Queen Rage Against The Machine Ray LaMontagne Rickie Lee Jones Riders In The Sky Robert Plant Rufus Wainwright Scott Matthews Shakira Shinedown The Shins Simon & Garfunkel The Smashing Pumpkins Snow Patrol Spinto Band Spongebob Squarepants Spoon Stephen Lynch Supertramp System Of A Down Talking Heads Teitur Tom Waits Tracy Chapman Van Halen Veggie Tales The Waitresses Weezer White Stripes Wilco Yo La Tengo Erykah Badu Sense and Sensibility Soundtrack O Brother Where Art Thou Soundtrack The Meters Alison Krauss Dolly Parton Willie Nelson Andrews Sisters Beach Boys The Beastie Boys Counting Crows Cowboy Junkies DJ Sammy Lauryn Hill Julie Andrews LL Cool J Marilyn Manson Papa Roach Puddle of Mudd Sarah McLachlan Seal U2 Randy Travis Ray Charles Jamiroquai Black Eyed Peas Beck Sia John Lennon Randy Newman Louis Armstrong Will Smith Raffi
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
50Cent The88 AC/DC Aimee Mann Al B. Sure All-American Rejects Amos Lee Amy Winehouse Animal Liberation Orchestra Aqualung Aretha Franklin The Beatles Ben Folds Five Ben Harper Billie Holiday Blink 182 Blue Merle Bob Marley Bobby Darin Bonnie Raitt Bright Eyes Bruce Springsteen Cat Stevens Chamillionaire Cibo Matto Coldplay Colm Wilkinson Corinne Bailey Rae Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young Damien Rice Dashboard Confessional Dave Matthews Band David Bowie David Gray Death Cab For Cutie Depeche Mode Dire Straits Dixie Chicks Donovan Frankenreiter The Eagles The Eels Elizabeth Mitchell & Lisa Loeb Elton John Elvis Costello Fall Out Boy Feist Fergie Fiona Apple Foo Fighters Frank Black Frank Sinatra The Fray G. Love & Special Sauce Garth Brooks Glenn Miller Gorillaz Gran Bel Fisher Indigo Girls J-Kwon Jack Johnson James Blunt James Brown Jay-Z John Butler Trio John Corbett John Mayer John Williamson Johnny Cash Joni Mitchell Jose Gonzalez Josh Ritter Josh Rouse Joss Stone Judy Garland Justin Timberlake Kelly Clarkson Keren Ann The Killers The Knife KT Tunstall Led Zeppelin Les Miserables The Little Willies Louis Jordan & Chris Barber Lucinda Williams Ludwig van Beethoven Lynrd Skynrd Macy Gray Madeleine Peyroux Mahalia Jackson Mama Cass Mary Poppins Marvin Gaye Mary Chapin Carpenter Massive Attack Matt Costa Me'Shell Ndegeocello Merle Haggard Michael Buble Moms Mabley My Chemical Romance Mystikal Nat King Cole Ne-Yo Neil Diamond Neil Young Neko Case Nickel Creek Norah Jones Otis Redding Pat McGee Band Paul McCartney Paul Simon Pearl Bailey & Moms Mabley Peter Gabriel Pink Prince Professor Longhair Queen Rage Against The Machine Ray LaMontagne Rickie Lee Jones Riders In The Sky Robert Plant Rufus Wainwright Scott Matthews Shakira Shinedown The Shins Simon & Garfunkel The Smashing Pumpkins Snow Patrol Spinto Band Spongebob Squarepants Spoon Stephen Lynch Supertramp System Of A Down Talking Heads Teitur Tom Waits Tracy Chapman Van Halen Veggie Tales The Waitresses Weezer White Stripes Wilco Yo La Tengo Erykah Badu Sense and Sensibility Soundtrack O Brother Where Art Thou Soundtrack The Meters Alison Krauss Dolly Parton Willie Nelson Andrews Sisters Beach Boys The Beastie Boys Counting Crows Cowboy Junkies DJ Sammy Lauryn Hill Julie Andrews LL Cool J Marilyn Manson Papa Roach Puddle of Mudd Sarah McLachlan Seal U2 Randy Travis Ray Charles Jamiroquai Black Eyed Peas Beck Sia John Lennon Randy Newman Louis Armstrong Will Smith Raffi
7/2/07
I Am A Mutant
First let me say that I had spent all of this time posting pictures of my flowers and my garden into a semi-interesting post to just have it go to hell.
This post, when I published it, was too much for the rest of my blog to handle it sent the whole thing to go all haywire.
I deleted it & decided to come back to it another time.
So for now, this is all I've got:
Am I the only person on the whole of the Earth that cannot stand the movie Grease?
I understand it has legions of devoted fans.
But I remember seeing it for the very first time at age 10 or 11 and found myself rolling my eyes, plugging my ears with my fingers, and generally relieved when it was over.
And I still feel that way today.
I don't get the big deal about this movie.
I don't know why it irks me so.
It just does.
Sorry to any of you out there that love this movie.
I apologize. We can still be friends just because I don't like it and you do...
I won't hold it against you ;)
I just don't get it is all. What it is about that movie?
And I feel like I'm the only one who feels that way.
Especially considering my gender.
This post, when I published it, was too much for the rest of my blog to handle it sent the whole thing to go all haywire.
I deleted it & decided to come back to it another time.
So for now, this is all I've got:
Am I the only person on the whole of the Earth that cannot stand the movie Grease?
I understand it has legions of devoted fans.
But I remember seeing it for the very first time at age 10 or 11 and found myself rolling my eyes, plugging my ears with my fingers, and generally relieved when it was over.
And I still feel that way today.
I don't get the big deal about this movie.
I don't know why it irks me so.
It just does.
Sorry to any of you out there that love this movie.
I apologize. We can still be friends just because I don't like it and you do...
I won't hold it against you ;)
I just don't get it is all. What it is about that movie?
And I feel like I'm the only one who feels that way.
Especially considering my gender.
6/29/07
Final Say
Today, during a drool fest, or what I'd like to call a late afternoon nap, Rav woke me up to take a phone call.
A phone call from the People who interviewed me for that position at a state-run detention center.
Remember?
I quickly wiped the drool off of the side of my face and my chin.
I mentally slapped myself in the face.
I cleared my throat so there would be no hint of grogginess when I answered the phone.
Blah-de-blah-blah.
I got the job.
Yes. Oh, yes.
I got the fucking job.
I say it like that because I resigned myself to the fact that I didn't get it.
And truth-be-told, I was a wee bit relieved.
See.
The job is 2nd shift.
And with Connor starting all day Kindergarten next year, that means I will see him all of 2 days a week and for a few minutes in the morning before he goes to school.
That also means that during the day, I will have to attend my classes to finish up that degree I've been working on.
As a family, the salary will benefit us tremendously.
But my big hang-up is the absence of seeing Connor.
Oh, and this big kicker.
My return flight from Blogher is Monday, July 30th. I arrive in Philly at noon to one-ish.
And the first day of my two week training?
Yep. Monday, July 30th.
Got to love non-refundable plane tickets.
When I interviewed for the position, the Asst. Superintendent told me that they are "cleaning house" in regards to staff. And that there are a lot of staff which are getting ready to retire. I'm holding out hope that maybe after putting in a few months time, a day shift position will open up. And that perhaps I'll be eligible.
Because like I said, not seeing my boy is going to really be a doozie.
For him.
And for me.
I'm sure by now you've been able to pick up the questions in my voice in regards to my ability to juggle this.
I know moms do this all day. Everyday.
Jobs, kids, home, school.
And they do it well.
I just question my ability.
Will the kids feel neglected/abandon by me?
Connor, being so sensitive, I know will be OK. But. But. He does not acclimate well to change.
How will I be able to complete my school work?
And feel like I'm being the mom that the kids need me to be?
How will I sustain the energy needed to accomplish all of this and not get burnt out?
Seriously, the questions are endless.
A phone call from the People who interviewed me for that position at a state-run detention center.
Remember?
I quickly wiped the drool off of the side of my face and my chin.
I mentally slapped myself in the face.
I cleared my throat so there would be no hint of grogginess when I answered the phone.
Blah-de-blah-blah.
I got the job.
Yes. Oh, yes.
I got the fucking job.
I say it like that because I resigned myself to the fact that I didn't get it.
And truth-be-told, I was a wee bit relieved.
See.
The job is 2nd shift.
And with Connor starting all day Kindergarten next year, that means I will see him all of 2 days a week and for a few minutes in the morning before he goes to school.
That also means that during the day, I will have to attend my classes to finish up that degree I've been working on.
As a family, the salary will benefit us tremendously.
But my big hang-up is the absence of seeing Connor.
Oh, and this big kicker.
My return flight from Blogher is Monday, July 30th. I arrive in Philly at noon to one-ish.
And the first day of my two week training?
Yep. Monday, July 30th.
Got to love non-refundable plane tickets.
When I interviewed for the position, the Asst. Superintendent told me that they are "cleaning house" in regards to staff. And that there are a lot of staff which are getting ready to retire. I'm holding out hope that maybe after putting in a few months time, a day shift position will open up. And that perhaps I'll be eligible.
Because like I said, not seeing my boy is going to really be a doozie.
For him.
And for me.
I'm sure by now you've been able to pick up the questions in my voice in regards to my ability to juggle this.
I know moms do this all day. Everyday.
Jobs, kids, home, school.
And they do it well.
I just question my ability.
Will the kids feel neglected/abandon by me?
Connor, being so sensitive, I know will be OK. But. But. He does not acclimate well to change.
How will I be able to complete my school work?
And feel like I'm being the mom that the kids need me to be?
How will I sustain the energy needed to accomplish all of this and not get burnt out?
Seriously, the questions are endless.
5/31/07
Ya Think?
I found this on AOL's ticker:
Libra (Sept 23-Oct 22)Your traits: diplomatic, idealistic, easygoing, creative and sociable. Your gregarious and trustworthy nature makes you well-liked by all.
Compatible jobs: Your sense of justice and interest in people make you a strong candidate for positions in public service, philanthropy, law and medicine. Libras' imaginative nature also lends them to careers in the arts.
Famously successful Libras: Mahatma Gandhi, Jesse Jackson, Eleanor Roosevelt
Libra (Sept 23-Oct 22)Your traits: diplomatic, idealistic, easygoing, creative and sociable. Your gregarious and trustworthy nature makes you well-liked by all.
Compatible jobs: Your sense of justice and interest in people make you a strong candidate for positions in public service, philanthropy, law and medicine. Libras' imaginative nature also lends them to careers in the arts.
Famously successful Libras: Mahatma Gandhi, Jesse Jackson, Eleanor Roosevelt
5/18/07
Narcissus In Wide Open Laughter
Within the past few years or so, I've realized that I don't have many recent pictures of myself. And even fewer that are good.
Since having kids, I find that most of the time, I am the one behind the camera.
And that is pretty OK by me.
But there aren't many where a sweet moment has been captured with me in the picture.
And that does leave me longing a little.
If you walked into my mother's house, you'd see plenty of pictures of the kids. My cute, lively, little kids. There might even be a picture or two of the kids and Rav. But rarely, very rarely, do I ever make the snapshot. Like I said, I'm OK with that.
Now, I don't consider myself to be a vain person. But the thing that sort of gets to me is that, the handful of pictures there are of me aren't great. Most of them, my face looks funny. In fact, the most recent pictures of myself I don't even recognize the face starring back at me. There are (laugh) lines where there were none before, there are cheeks that are a bit chubbier than I am accustomed to. I have changed and barely have any evidence to prove it.
What is even more sad is the fact that, there is little evidence of me caught in a moment. A moment that happened and a moment where I look like myself, a moment that has caught me making the right face.
Jen said in a comment a few posts back: i think that's how i picture you, head back in wide open laughter.
And when I think of me, when I'm in my element, that's what I see. But like I've said, I have very few photos to prove it. So, here are a few. A few that I knew I had. And the only reason that they exist is because A) They were taken on the day to beat all days. and B) The guy was paid to take pictures of me.
So, Jen....I think this is what you might have been picturing.
Since having kids, I find that most of the time, I am the one behind the camera.
And that is pretty OK by me.
But there aren't many where a sweet moment has been captured with me in the picture.
And that does leave me longing a little.
If you walked into my mother's house, you'd see plenty of pictures of the kids. My cute, lively, little kids. There might even be a picture or two of the kids and Rav. But rarely, very rarely, do I ever make the snapshot. Like I said, I'm OK with that.
Now, I don't consider myself to be a vain person. But the thing that sort of gets to me is that, the handful of pictures there are of me aren't great. Most of them, my face looks funny. In fact, the most recent pictures of myself I don't even recognize the face starring back at me. There are (laugh) lines where there were none before, there are cheeks that are a bit chubbier than I am accustomed to. I have changed and barely have any evidence to prove it.
What is even more sad is the fact that, there is little evidence of me caught in a moment. A moment that happened and a moment where I look like myself, a moment that has caught me making the right face.
Jen said in a comment a few posts back: i think that's how i picture you, head back in wide open laughter.
And when I think of me, when I'm in my element, that's what I see. But like I've said, I have very few photos to prove it. So, here are a few. A few that I knew I had. And the only reason that they exist is because A) They were taken on the day to beat all days. and B) The guy was paid to take pictures of me.
So, Jen....I think this is what you might have been picturing.
And no, I was not drunk. Not even a little buzzed. These shots are probably a photographer's worst nightmare. Who wants to stare down someone's pie hole? But they are me.
This week, I've been trying to be kind to myself. And share parts of myself I don't always get to. That's the deal with this post. It's a tad vain. I know. But there is beauty in each of us. And we don't often stop to appreciate it.
5/15/07
Room Inside For Me
I was recently asked to reflect upon the things that I love about myself and the things that are unique about me.
I can't help but feel a tad like running head first into a brick wall.
See, I don't think I've ever thought about it.
And truly it isn't something that I would typically blog about.
But the person asking me to do this is quite special.
And I know there is a pretty good reason that she has asked me to do it. And she cared enough about me to ask me to do it.
The thing(s) I think I love about myself would probably be that I'm not what people would expect. I'm very short - all 5' 1" of me. I used to be pretty thin. Before Gracie got ahold of my body, anyway. And I've always looked rather young. I'll probably get carded for some time to come, though the crow's feet around my eyes may give me away pretty soon. I think what people would expect from my compact package is a limp noodle, a wee maiden, a demure, quiet, lamb.
But I think I'm pretty strong. Physically. And I do thoroughly enjoy manual labor. I like dirt. I like working in dirt. I like being sweaty. I like working until my hands and fingers burn from fatigue. I like a challenge. I like working at something difficult and getting it done. I like operating heavy equipment. I drool over brand new Bobcats and tractors are sexy.
I also am a bulldog when it comes to something I believe strongly in. I'm passionate, steadfast, and stubborn. I'm animated. I am full of life. I am sunshine. I am light. (Despite what you may think or what you have heard.)
And I love that about myself.
I love that when my friends or my family need advice or are having a personal crisis, they call me. They open up and they count on my opinion/thoughts. They know that I will always be there to listen.
I love that I am an open book. I have nothing to hide. I love to share. Be it my thoughts, my experiences, my food, my home, my belongings, my emotions. All of it.
I love that I am in love with the world.
I love that I am perceptive and that I can feel what someone else is feeling. I love that I can see through things to what will happen, what someone will say, what someone will do. I'm not going all out and saying I'm psychic. But I just know things. And I love that my ability to feel what other people are feeling allows me to have the wide-open heart that I do. I love that I want to fight for those who can't fight for themselves - or who just need a cheerleader.
I love that I know how to embrace dark times, as well as, light, happy times. The dark times leave me feeling washed up, but that is when the biggest and best changes occur. I love that I can take them for what they are, make my way through them, and move on to enjoy the good.
I love my name. I used to hate it when I was a kid. But I have come to love my name. And I love that my Dad named me. Because I know that it means something to him. (And no, he didn't choose it because of Bewitched).
This was really, really hard for me to do. And I'm not sure that it came out the way I wanted it to. It's not eloquently written like I wanted it to be. It's just me. In black and white. But these are the things that I love about myself.
I really needed to hear myself say them.
(I almost feel like Stuart Smalley)
:)
I can't help but feel a tad like running head first into a brick wall.
See, I don't think I've ever thought about it.
And truly it isn't something that I would typically blog about.
But the person asking me to do this is quite special.
And I know there is a pretty good reason that she has asked me to do it. And she cared enough about me to ask me to do it.
The thing(s) I think I love about myself would probably be that I'm not what people would expect. I'm very short - all 5' 1" of me. I used to be pretty thin. Before Gracie got ahold of my body, anyway. And I've always looked rather young. I'll probably get carded for some time to come, though the crow's feet around my eyes may give me away pretty soon. I think what people would expect from my compact package is a limp noodle, a wee maiden, a demure, quiet, lamb.
But I think I'm pretty strong. Physically. And I do thoroughly enjoy manual labor. I like dirt. I like working in dirt. I like being sweaty. I like working until my hands and fingers burn from fatigue. I like a challenge. I like working at something difficult and getting it done. I like operating heavy equipment. I drool over brand new Bobcats and tractors are sexy.
I also am a bulldog when it comes to something I believe strongly in. I'm passionate, steadfast, and stubborn. I'm animated. I am full of life. I am sunshine. I am light. (Despite what you may think or what you have heard.)
And I love that about myself.
I love that when my friends or my family need advice or are having a personal crisis, they call me. They open up and they count on my opinion/thoughts. They know that I will always be there to listen.
I love that I am an open book. I have nothing to hide. I love to share. Be it my thoughts, my experiences, my food, my home, my belongings, my emotions. All of it.
I love that I am in love with the world.
I love that I am perceptive and that I can feel what someone else is feeling. I love that I can see through things to what will happen, what someone will say, what someone will do. I'm not going all out and saying I'm psychic. But I just know things. And I love that my ability to feel what other people are feeling allows me to have the wide-open heart that I do. I love that I want to fight for those who can't fight for themselves - or who just need a cheerleader.
I love that I know how to embrace dark times, as well as, light, happy times. The dark times leave me feeling washed up, but that is when the biggest and best changes occur. I love that I can take them for what they are, make my way through them, and move on to enjoy the good.
I love my name. I used to hate it when I was a kid. But I have come to love my name. And I love that my Dad named me. Because I know that it means something to him. (And no, he didn't choose it because of Bewitched).
This was really, really hard for me to do. And I'm not sure that it came out the way I wanted it to. It's not eloquently written like I wanted it to be. It's just me. In black and white. But these are the things that I love about myself.
I really needed to hear myself say them.
(I almost feel like Stuart Smalley)
:)
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