please do not let your struggle become your identity
you are so much more than your
pain sorrow trauma fear
there is such vibrant vitality
within each of your souls
do not be defined nor boxed within the confines
of your past
you are more than just a sad story
you are a psalm
you are poetry
I think all of us have a feeling of “I WANT TO SAVE THE WORLD!” in us.
I think that is an amazing attribute.
How wonderful it is to see someone or something worth saving and finding a way to do so.
But I hope you know that it is perfectly okay if you are only able to save one person.
And it is even more okay if that one person…is you.
Sometimes, we are our only salvation.
Have you ever seen babies take their first steps? It is rather hilarious to watch these tiny beings stagger around like mini drunk people! But while we have all chuckled at a baby plopping on its diapered behind, we probably also noticed something else.
People never get angry that they fell on their bottoms…they praise them.
Babies are encouraged and hugged and smiled at through the whole process.
You do not criticize their fall. You do not shake a finger as their chubby legs go out from under them.
If you did, well, that would make you a complete twatapotomus!
What you do is help them back up.
You clap and encourage and hold their hands and work with them till they can walk on their own.
I think as adults we need remember this. We need to relearn this lesson.
We need to stop criticizing the falls people take. The falls WE ourselves take.
We need to hold hands with one another and help each other as we each take our staggering steps in life. We need to look at a person as a whole being and not simply focus on one bad moment. That one bad moment should not completely negate them as a person. (Unless they kicked a puppy then they should be beaten!)
Let each of us spend more time applauding our small steps than criticizing our falls.
Encourage one another to keep taking the small steps because each small step will take you to something bigger. Do not put someone down for making progress regardless of how fast or slow it may be. Instead encourage and applaud and rejoice with them. Some of us do not have many cheerleaders in our lives. Some of us do not even know how to be our own cheerleaders. Help one another be the best person they can be.
Because how we react to another person’s endeavors says more about us than it says about them.
Help one another! Cheer one another on! Hold each other’s hands!
Life can be hard at times and we are all very human and we each make mistakes. Stop reminding people of those mistakes. Stop pushing people back down if they stumble. Help one another up!
Remember that a true queen helps fix another person’s crown without telling the world that it was ever crooked in the first place.
Be true queens, my lovelies!
Hello everyone! (Waves at screen, then realizes I just waved at the laptop and slowly puts my hand down. I really need to stop doing that.)
It has been an extremely long time since I wrote on my blog. I was in a rather unhappy spot, you see. My beloved Lulu had just passed and with the loss of my precious Boji earlier in the year, I was feeling quite lonely.
And a lot of other words that I really am not up to writing at this moment. Suffice it to say-I was a hot mess. Still fabulous! But a fabulous hot mess, none the less.
I have spent the last few months in my own head and heart and house. All tucked away and quiet trying to come to terms with life. I had been hiding because in life, “hiding from” is so much easier than “dealing with”.
I suppose since this was Easter Weekend-the time of resurrection and new life-I felt I needed to resurrect my own life. Resurrect my purpose. Resurrect my love of writing.
I lost a spark within me when Lulu left and went on “vacation.” And I have not found that specific spark again. That fire within me that had been there since my childhood. That driving force that often had me awake in the middle of the night needing to put pen to paper, thought to fruition, story to life. That fire was blown out.
So…I decided to find a different spark. Got my own damn matches out and set shit on fire!
I am back at it again! Words are flowing-slowly yes-but flow is flow.
For all of you who have stayed with me and encouraged me and whispered words of wisdom and strength to me, I must thank you! You believed in me when I was unable to believe in myself. I have been reminded that I had a plan and a dream and a talent.
It has not been easy though. I have to admit to a slow start and sketchy showing. Rather like an old robot that needs oil. A stuttered bit of typing. An ink smudged piece of paper. Words and thoughts and random bits of an echoing idea. Each coming together to remind me of why I started this. Of what I wanted to share. Of who I was.
I realized during many dark tear filled nights and cold wind swept days that I was trying to out run something that was un-runnable. (Yes! I know that is not a word! I’m using it anyway!)
It has been like I was racing from a storm. But the storm kept changing directions. It took me a while to realize that the storm was changing towards which ever direction I was heading. I turn left and so did the storm. I go backwards and the storm followed. All the bluster and rain and debris followed each turn I took. Over and over I would start this dance with this storm. Sometimes leading, often being lead. Like some ominous dance with death just before dawn.
That is when I realized that this storm did not randomly blow in from nowhere. This storm was me. Something inside of me. And I needed stop. Stop the “tooing” and “froing” and backing and forthing. I needed to stop and step inside the storm. Close my eyes and take a step into the eye of the storm that was chasing me from within. Embrace the flow of the wind and rain and keep stepping through to the other side.
Just a side note: I am not all the way through this storm.
But I will keep going. I may need to pick up an umbrella though.
Has anyone else been looking over their shoulder at what was 2018 thinking, “From the bottom of my heart, what the fuck was THAT?”
I have been! I have had some major ups and downs! 2018 was like an incredibly bad amusement park ride.
But, in a few short minutes, this year will be over. (Thank fuck!)
Personally, I am not one to make resolutions. Never saw the need actually. Saying something does not make it happen. (Wouldn’t THAT be awesome if it did?!) Only hard work will bring results. Hard work, a positive attitude, and a willingness to believe in your dreams!
As I said, I do not do the “resolution” thing. Instead, I wish for some things for each of you, my lovelies!
I wish for peace of heart and mind. Abundance and amazing opportunities. May you share many beautiful moments. Stay positive even when faced with negativity and contempt. Be brave! Love everyone around you and please tell them repeatedly, and with joy, all the reasons WHY you love them! Seek and keep hold of genuine people and relationships. Let there be more laughter than tears. When you need too, take time to recharge and relax. Do not give your time and energy and power to people who use you and return nothing. And please-take the time you need to heal when your heart has been hurt.
Mostly, I wish you love! Love yourself! Love others! LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!
Remember, my darlings! The same God who created the galaxies and oceans, monkeys and the mountains, looked at you and thought, YES!, the universe needed one of you too! Because each of you are amazing!
Sending you the very best wishes for a very fabulous New Year!
I have been wanting to write these last few days. Share about my weekend with the family as we celebrated my niece Brinn’s college graduation. Yay Brinn!
Share how my redecorating has been going with new curtains, bedding, and a new bed because my old one finally broke. I bought the old bed used when I got divorced…18 years ago. No more springs poking me in the rump! (And I have been divorced longer than I was married!)
Share that I got my new toaster-which is PINK and after nearly 3 weeks I have NOT burnt anything down. Nor have I tried to heat up a muffin because apparently I was the only one who did not think about removing the wrapper from the afore mentioned muffin of yummy goodness.
Share that my sister-in-law Cyndee (Hi Cyndee! Waves!) was worried about my being a pyromaniac menace to myself and the neighborhood and very kindly bought me a microwave because, and I quote, “It will change your life!” Once it arrives-warmed up muffins for EVERYONE! Wrapper and all!
Or share that when asked how I am doing, I have been replying with a smile and the words, “I am fine!”
Like the liar I am.
Despite the new bed of awesomeness or the new toaster, I find myself hunkered down in my office. Here I am surrounded by an eclectic array of things that inspire me.
Make me happy. Or, if not completely happy, at least at peace about NOT being totally happy.
Pictures of my beloved Leonard Nimoy and his character Spock. The books of his poetry that struck a chord within this once very young child. My picture of Dave Grohl and me from when I met him in 2011. We chatted for about 20 minutes! Nice nice nice man! My stuffed Spock bear that fascinated Lulu because if you press his hand it plays the Star Trek theme song. She loved that thing! Would steal it off the shelf and carry it to her bed. Random books that I enjoy and find myself re-reading. Random books I thought I would enjoy that I have not yet turned a page of. Sayings and quotes that make me think. And due to my resurgence of enjoyment in the band Queen, I have a few items on display of Freddie Mercury as well. I even have a tambourine! Which tinkles once in a while if the fan catches it just right. Why a tambourine you ask? Because I am a rock star at heart and, while I can sing, I cannot play any other instrument!
I am simply trying to find my peace again. Trying to find my center after the turmoil of the last few weeks. I did not realize my dependence upon my Baby Girl for strength and stability. She was my point of focus. A soothing countenance to my chaos.
So, now, I have to make my own “self” the point of focus.
I am damn fabulous so I am not certain why I am struggling with this!?
I find my mind wandering…more than usual. That damn thing is always on some weird scavenger hunt it seems, and corralling it into a focused state for more than 3 minutes is slightly, aggravatingly difficult. So easily distracted by pretty things, music and food. (Oh! I have M&M’s!)
Please stick with me my dear lovelies!
I am very much a work in progress. I just have hit a rough patch these last few weeks. Trying to make sense out of senselessness. Trying to pull my heart and soul out of a cavern of pain and yes, I will admit this, self pity.
I do wonder at times why me? Why my girls? But this is a useless and extremely counter-productive measure to find healing.
And for those of you who think I should be okay by now. Healed and ready to move on? You have no clue what I am going through! You can kiss my lily white tattooed….sigh.
You know what?
Healing is a very personal and individual process.
I have dealt with people recently who talk about “my personal healing” as if it is some mystical process that a few scented candles and rubbing some crystals will solve. These hippy tree huggers can honest to god kiss my lily white tattooed….sigh.
But let’s face it people. Healing of any sort-physical, emotional, mental, spiritual-it is a damn dirty business. It is facing the truths of ourselves and finding a way to create a better version, a stronger version, of our inner most being. It is facing the good and bad of our souls.
It ain’t pretty!
And that is why I am, in a sense, hiding in my office.
I have some of my favorite music playing. I have a book of poetry open on my lap. A notebook open with odd bits and notes that I am working on. I have my 7th …no… 8th cup of tea at my elbow. I am finding a way to work on me. Finding the things that bring me peace. Finding ways to redirect my wayward thoughts when I am reminded of the silence in my house. The lack of dog hair in my tea cup. The absence of squeaky toys underfoot.
It is a process. I went through it when I have lost others in my life. The sudden knowledge that someone who was always supposed to be there…just was not.
I am trying to work on accepting things as they come to me. The “what is, is” mindset. I need to find a way to keep myself together in the chaos, no matter what life throws my way.
Because life…well…life can get hard sometimes. And you still have to get up! Get the fuck up and keep going! You can choose to be one of two things. A puddle. Or an ocean.
Who would want to be a puddle? People walk through puddles and laugh.
We need to learn to be an ocean when life drops us to our knees. Oceans are powerful.
And “awe” inspiring.
I am still desperately upset about losing my Lulu. I will not simply be “done” missing her or dealing with her absence. But I am also upset that I am losing myself.
So I will try to roar…not from the sorrow. But from the crashing of the waves that is my ocean.
Wish me luck, my darlings!
I say goodbye to you
a million times each day
I still hear your voice
echo the words you could not say
you are missed beyond all reason
sorrow carries my heart
I love you for all you gave to me
wish you didn’t have to part
I said goodbye to you
with streaming tears and songs I sang
I held you close
over you I prayed
I know you didn’t understand
you trusted my gentle hand
as I sent you on
to be free
of all your pain
-P. A. Proffitt
I never realized how quiet this damn house is till this past week.
I never realized how much I was soothed by the sound of paws walking through the house. Soft snoring from the sofa. Basset hound ears flapping as she shook her head. The chatting she would do when she was sitting with me.
I never realized how much I actually talked to her throughout the day. Nor did I realize she was often the only being I talked to most days.
I have meandered through the house picking up her things, putting away her pictures, chuckling at the memories of her antics. And I realize how huge my once crowded house is, now that she and her big personality have gone.
I know to some it seems odd that I am mourning so much over an animal. But she was my everything. Both of my girls were! They were the children I never had, and, actually got treated better than any child I might have had, come to think of it.
I had plans for my Baby Girl!
She was going to go on book tours with me once someone finally accepted a submission and gave me a book deal. She would always get top billing when I dedicated a book. (The rest of you would be sited farther down the list.) She would have her own entourage because, Hello! She was Lulu-Diva Extraordinaire! Oprah and Ellen would be vying for her and me to be on their shows! (Mostly wanting her. I would just tag along to hold her ears out of the water bowl when she drank.)
She helped me to write, too. I would read my poems and stories to her. I would act out scenes for her. Would share dialogue and discuss if things would work as I had them planned out. I did this All. The. Time. (She gave excellent critiques by the way! Thought I was amazing and talented! And I know the treats I gave her had nothing to do with her obviously unbiased opinion.)
She would sit on the back of my chair and wrap herself around my shoulders, nose buried into my neck. She would be a gentle weight to remind me I was not alone. She was the reminder that I was loved.
I am struggling. Struggling sometimes to catch a breath. Struggling to find a way out of my anxiety and depression. She was my anchor. She kept me grounded in the moment.
I am struggling but I am working on the sorrow and the empty spaces within my house and my heart. She filled that space within me. That place where I could give all my love and attention too. It was my honor and joy to dote on her. Even when she was being an annoying little brat who would flip her food bowl because I had not topped her dinner with a sprinkle of shredded cheese.
Oh Baby Girl! The books you chewed up. The rugs you piddled on. The toilet paper rolls you left a trail of all over the house. The chipmunk you chased into the house that I found hiding in the bathtub. The underwear I would find in the backyard. The TV remote you hid in your toy basket. The shoes you mutilated. The table leg that you gnawed on. The kitchen cabinet you would crawl into for reasons I never did figure out.
Oh Lulu-you were my special Baby Girl!
I miss you so much I ache from it.
I am comically and tragically pissed off about things.
In my defense...I was left unsupervised.
In my defense...I was left unsupervised.
Bizarre thoughts from author Jenny Lawson - Like Mother Teresa, only better.
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