Choosing Faith

I just finished watching the movie/screenplay extravaganza of the 70's, "Jesus Christ Superstar". I couldn't truly endorse any of the actual content. The parallels to the bible were very loose and ineffectual in my opinion. The singing was overly dramatic and lacking true talent to my unsophisticated ear. However, there is a slow crawl of admiration rising in me as I watched. I couldn't put my finger on it til I remembered the one word...Blasphemy.

This word was introduced to me over and over as a inquisitive Catholic child (a sort of blasphemy of its own kind). I asked my mother. I asked each new priest. Each had the same answer for me, "it is blasphemy to question God". Unsatisfied, confused and bruised mentally I believed myself to be wrong for seeking. Yet even that doubt could not still my need for answers. I continued asking, searching. I found many answers, some resembling one another, while others contradicted. Funny that today, when my questions have been stilled that I finally have the answer. The one that makes me say Jesus Christ Superstar and all of its ilk are brilliant films.

Choice is the short answer. The long answer is because I seek, I open my mind to all possibilities. That is the only way to truly choose. Choice, my friends is the only real faith. Anything else is enslavement, as the Romans held us long ago. 

CHRISTmas?

I'd like to begin with disclaiming that nothing I am about to write is a new concept , or even thought. It has been humbugged about for years, perhaps longer. Nevertheless, this has become a reality for me now so I must add to the controversy in my own way.

First of all, I love Christmas. More to the point, I used to love Christmas. I love so many sights at this time like people are generally kinder; the milling shoppers; cold, wintry days with people in brightly colored-scarfs; the lights strung everywhere. All these phenomenon remind me of the person that this holiday is truly about, should I say, supposed to be about...the kindest human being possibly ever born, Jesus Christ.

Anyone that knows me, is aware that I have no religion, per say. However, they might not know that I am very spiritual and that includes an adoration of bible lore. I will not dispute the validity of each story but I'd like to say that each one has some basis of truth. The one of Jesus is my very favorite. In other words, Christmastime is, indeed sacred to me. I enjoy remembering the teachings of Jesus Christ and seeing them come out in others, if only for a few weeks.

That said the Christ in Christmas has diminished , neigh, replaced by personal desires. The joy of this holiday is severely dampened by the stress of buying presents. Financially, it is a strain, more and more as technology increases, so do the wish lists. The stress of pleasing people with your gifts has become a personal pride that is only measured monetarily. Increasingly, I find people are much more concerned with the price of not only the gift they purchase but the ones they receive equally. I can't express the disgust I feel at this notion.

Now for the solution. Within my family I have proposed that we no longer exchange gifts on Christmas. Instead we make the day about family togetherness. Instead of gifts we will bring dishes carefully made with our own hands to be shared. In exchange for this sacrifice of personal pleasure I have suggested that we make birthdays a bigger event. The money that would have been exhausted on Christmas can be used, in part, on each individuals birthday.

I'll let you know how it goes. 

Precious Pain

My title is aptly derived as I watched the movie,"Precious" yesterday. Yep, it took me 2 years to get the nerve up to watch this movie. I was sure it would open old wounds for me and I feared that like the scared child that hides inside. I still don't know if I could  adequately defend the viewing of this movie. The only thing I can tell you is ...you must! 


First let me give a quick synopsis for anyone that might not have heard Oprah tell us all about this story or watch Barbara Walters interview Monique about her part played or watched this unknown young actress, Gabourey Sidibe make us cry for her journey that the talented Sapphire wrote. Yes, it was a book first and more to the point this was one woman's life. Even more to the point, is that this is shockingly so many women's lives.  
http://www.rainn.org/statistics
Did you know that 1 out of every 6 American women have been sexually abused? We can't even tally the atrocious numbers that might come from other countries that have not gotten women's rights to the place we are even at. 44% of women sexually abused, raped or assaulted are under the age of 18. Even worse, 93% of children abused know their attacker. With statistics like these this movie must be seen and talked about. These children, that hopefully survive and become women don't. We don't talk about it. Instead it becomes our reason for distrust, our shields that keep us from fully loving. 


In light of Sapphire's story, I'd like to step out of the shadows and say I was abused. It came in many forms and continued throughout my life until I realized my soul was untouchable. That I could keep that part of me clean and free no matter what anyone did to me. I still struggle with the demons. They come to me when a man looks at a woman, or worse a child in a certain way. They scream when I see a woman dressed scantily and I worry for her safety. When an older man has a penchant for younger women I am driven back to that place of fear. Reasonable or not, I become that victim again, only in my mind. This is what abuse does to you. 


Childhood abuse alone is such a devastating crime. That person, the thing that decided they could take a childhood away from a kid will never fully understand all that they did in that moment(s). It doesn't go away. We will forever be scarred from the event that changed the way we think about other human beings, oftentimes, men in particular. I have heard opinions openly expressed that victims should "get over it".The thing is...we do, everyday until that moment we are reminded. It can happen with the things mentioned above and it can happen with a movie.


I could tell you my complete story and give you graphic details but instead I would like to give you the only good thing that came from my story...my ability to write:

Ripped Bandaids                                                                                                                                          

When my demons stir from their secret places

They claw their way out, over the barriers

I long ago constructed

Snatches of buried images creep in…

Flash!

Dad’s hands sting me with love

Crash!

I hit the floor

My mother’s words, “it’s for your own good”

Echoing in my now burning head

Bam!

My baby sister’s body blurred by his shape

Methodically being conditioned that all men should win

My mother, our saint, idly wringing her hands

It is her face so devoid of all life that threatens the rage to bubble up so I must bury it again

The rocking….

Ahh,

I remember it well

After he touched me with his silky malevolence

“shh, you’ll wake her”, he says with a finger to our lips

Creeping out, once again

Leaving me alone in this personal hell

Struggling to figure out how to make the shaking end

I rocked all night in that lonely chair beside my bed

Casting shadows from a childhood(Ha! What is that?)

I laugh with a maniacal reverie

Long since I took the pillow

I promised her we’d forget

Closing the little girls eyes

I smothered her with no regret

But now, I am woman. Standing strongly on my own.

Only in the dark of night will you see my hands clasped

Praying my knight will hear the wailing of this forgotten child

Were you but there

I would have clung to you and begged with my child‘s eyes to save me

A broken thing cannot fix another, can it?

How clever you were to deny me pen

For the words would be blurred and stained

By these errant tears

That refuse to be caged again.

Searching for Sanity

My goodness I've been out of touch again...with my life, the things that make me proud to be me-Writing! I allow comments or even lackof, to influence me far too much. I know I write well because it is always from my heart and that can never be truly wrong. Frig that sounds like some Budda rhetoric, nevertheless I believe it. I have always believed that the only wrong in the world is the intended wrong. In other words, intentions are the deciding factor in my world, as to what is wrong or right, valid or futile, worthy of light or to remain in the darkness.

I'm here announcing I'll try again. Back on the horse, to write everyday or at least more because here is where my soul lives. Making sense of the world in words and thoughts is how I keep insanity at bay. 

Pain

Pain comes in so many forms. The basic modes are: physical and emotional. In recent months I have a new one to add and that is the fear of pain. Hard to believe but this one might be the worst of them all. This all applies to my current bout with pain. I am finding that there is a limitation as to the patience of people around me, specifically to believing and having sympathy for my pain. This leads me to feelings of guilt were I suppress the need to let anyone know I'm in pain for fear of reproach. The general consensus is if you can't see the injury on a person then the pain isn't valid. I'm here to tell you that pain comes in many forms and when you limit that, you take away a person's ability to fight or have hope of healing.  

With physical pain, we can take medicines to negate it. In addition, as I'm learning, there comes a point when you become use to the physical pain and your threshold increases. There are home remedies, massages, machines, and many more ways to relieve physical pain, including my favorite, sleep. 

Emotional pain is a tougher nut to crack. I have had more than my share of this type of pain as we all have. This one my be a bit dull in the physical realm but its lasting effects are devastating. The funny thing is you never know when an old memory may resurface freshening the pain. However, even then, you learn to distract yourself with goals, projects and heaven help us new relationships. 

All things being equal, they are not. I believe the fear of pain is the worst kind because it not only attacks sporadically but it can take form in the way of physical or mental anguish. In the physical realm the worrying, anticipating of a specific pain may actually cause headaches, stomaches, ulcers, etc.almost as if self-fulfilling. Emotional fear of pain can limit your world in the guise of distraction, moodiness and feeling of depression that  in itself may as well be hurtful all on its own. 

In conclusion, I would debate anyone that there can be limitations put on the definitions and parameters of pain. No matter which pain we each find most valid, to that person with the pain, theirs is real. 

The dreaded day

September 9 I was at the hospital all day, either preparing for surgery or in the operating room. For the most part it went okay. There was a complication that prolonged one of the procedures but nothing my doctor couldn't handle. I think that is why I am so incredibly sore now. I was up being bent and twisted for too long and now my body is screaming in defiance. Other than the pain, I'm really okay. The pathology comes back in about a week. Until then I can just hope that I'm done with this. 

Who's News?

I don't watch the news! I have been called ignorant on more than one occassion for this fact by friends,co-workers, even family. My own mother is visibly frustrated with me as she utters,"oh did you hear about(insert tragedy here)?" she stops herself and snides, "oh, that's right...you don't watch the news." Although the tone, adjectives and inflection changes, the same situation plays itself out on a daily basis.

I came to this decision many, many years ago, if it could even be called that. There was never a doubt in my mind that the news was detrimental to the world, much less to my particular life.

Let's see...a series of broadcasted tragedies ring out for an hour in the evening and an hour at night on most channels. You hear the verbal cues for tears as the newcaster makes her or his eyes look just sad enough. I am supposed to believe that these make-up ridden women with enough hairspray on their heads to ignite a small explosive, understand and can relate the ways of the world to me. They decide what "news" is noteworthy and which lives are marked enough for publicity? I think not!

How is it we all have decided that the only news worthy of our attention is this negative crap that drones on daily? There are so many beautiful things in this world that could be showcased to encourage humanity. I just really don't see the point in knowing that another human being was murdered today or that another kid was put in jail due to drugs. That said I can assure you I do hear it.

Here is the amazing part...I don't have to watch the news to hear about it. My mother alone keeps me up to date on the murderous and scary world we live in today but if she isn't enough; I can tell you that the water cooler talk consists of nothing but the latest tragedies. I don't escape this assault even on the bus ride to my car. The grocery store check out line is alive and well with "tuffts" and "hmmms" that are barely sincere, but whispered for society to approve their disdane. Oh yes, we can all agree that these are bad people so we must be good ones. If only we looked at ourselves as closely.

So I don't watch the news but sadly I hear about it all day long. Even though I choose to lead a life that focuses on the most positivity I can find , I am still forced to listen to the atrocities that plague my fellow man. Just in case you missed my point...Nope, I don't watch news, I am force fed it almost in the same way that the sheep are that do watch it. 

Don't drink the water!

One of my girlfriends and I have been noticing that boys are going out of their minds lately. I say boys, very purposely too! There is no way a real man(is there such a thing?) could play the games that these males seem to be up to. The several men that we have in our lives, ranging from friends, just friends, to maybe more than friends are acting out in the strangest of ways.

Some are stepping up their games to include flirty behavior. That said, it is not necessarily welcome! These are the boys that you had already decided were off limits or not interested or even interesting. They gave no sembalance of ...anything! Oh my goodness and this includes one of the ugliest offenders...the one that will not go away. The friend that won't take no for an answer or the married guy that is pushing boundaries...you know that guy that just doesn't take the hint..."you are nothing to me anymore!"

Some are backing off and seeming to abandon ship with no provocation.These boys are the ones you thought you could count on. The ones you thought you knew. They have begun making little comments that are offensive or just losing contact period. Slowly, you find yourself wondering what the hell happened...when did we stop and most of all, why wasn't I consulted?

The worst ones are those that do a bit of both. Just as we figure out what we are, they begin changing tactics and we begin to doubt. As naive as this might sound I'm confused why they can't just discuss the issue. I'm all about hearing the truth so I can get out of my head wondering and move on. Doesn't that make the most sense? Why all this sudden game-playing?

I have no answers. I merely needed to vent. My girlfriend and I are at a loss. If you have any insights, do comment below.

Tattoo

I want a tattoo! It's funny how people don't think this of me. As a matter of fact I get quite the open-jawed response when I mention my desire for a tattoo. I'm assuming this is due to the stereotypes associated with this act, that may seem far removed from the person I am generally perceived as. That said, people get tattoos for many, many reasons.

One of the most common stereotypical groups is when a person of ...grit(for lack of a better word) that wants something equally rough on their bodies to announce to the world that they are just that. Then there is the less conscious bodies that end up with permanent markings on their body due to dares, alchohol/drugs or a lost bet. A whole other brand of people are the ones that get cutsy markings on their person to grab attention. They get the artist to put these in those secret places that only special people get to find out about. They use this as a weapon of mystery to taunt, more often than not, the opposite sex.

Now lets come to my particular  reason...I want something sacred on my body that I can look to every day and remind myself of the journey I am on. I believe in the intention of any one thing to be a powerful object, therefore anything I write on my body will be just that. So beyond the words that will remind me to continue seeking I will also get words of protection written for a super specific reason that I will not unveil at this time.

Ode to Opie

 This blog is solely dedicated to my Opie; he, alone knows who he is, and if I had his ever humble permission I would give his name and shout that to the world. I've never dared to share this with people before, perhaps because I've never known such a man as this. I would wish for everyone that they had an Opie in their lives, as I do.

When you first meet this man you are overwhelmed by his kind smile and warm eyes. Personally, I find him absolutely adorable but that might be my bias. That said,  his charm cannot be denied. My dearest Opie has a way of making you feel like you are the most important person in the room when he speaks to you. His soft green/hazel/blue eyes holding yours as  he listens intently to the words you say. When I first met him I couldn't believe how he retains what I'd say. "He really is listening!" It floored me everytime he regirgitated what I said back to me...it still does to this day.

Ahhh, and when he smiles, it comes from deep within. There is no pretense with this man, I assure you. Although, he does have a twinkle of mischieviousness that you'll only guess at for moments before he springs it on you. Do not allow him to know your weaknesses because my Opie loves to push a person past their issues. When he cares about you he makes it a point to challenge your ideals and get you to a point where you might even consider another side. Opie doesn't comprehend that the world is not as brilliant as he is so he continually attempts to make his vision true.

That brings me to his intelligence. He is a history major with the sharpest memory I have ever had the privilege to know. There is rarely any topic that he can't give you the origin of its time, the proper name of the people and/or events involved. One might think this perfection would become boring but I assure you each time I am fascinated by his knowledge.

Ahhh but his heart...it's so big, you can hardly imagine one man could contain it. As I said above, it radiates from his very being and felt by everyone near him. He is a lover of animals, a champion of the underdog and a believer of the peaceful approach. I can confess that I underestimated and perhaps took this gentleness for weakness, in the beginning. Let me assure you, that my Opie has the strength of a Lion, that resides in him. If anyone dare hurts his loved ones, the steel in his eyes becomes evident. I believe his inner strength is beyond limits,  yet hard for him to have faith in that, himself. Yet, I have seen this man overcome many odds. I know all, or most, of his stories from  his challenging youth. Everything from his turbulent times in different countries, to his father's death and to the marriage that he couldn't save all by himself. I imagine my Opie's eyes have a very far away look when these memories come back to his mind.  Even that sadness is a beautiful thing to behold. It is filled with such thoughtfulness and responsibility.

Through all this beauty there is a very deep sense of humor that cannot be contained. He makes me laugh all the time. I imagine his poor mother had quite the time with this rascal when he was growing up. That mischieviousness I mentioned before has been with him since birth I believe. Admittedly, sometimes he can make me completely crazy but always with a smile that I can't deny...and I try!

Now you know a bit about my Opie. I honestly do wish everyone had someone like him in their lives but...you can't have mine!

Beauty?

I'm a woman that finds beauty in nature, just as I believe natural beauty is the only real kind. Mind you I have no problem with the idea of enhancing that to certain degrees. As in nature, the perfectly planted flower, beside the towering oak, only encourages the eye to appreciate the magnificence of the tree.  Generally, this seems to not be a popular opinion, especially with the men I know. We aren't talking about the tree anymore, but the natural beauty of a woman, without all the trappings applied, otherwise known as make-up. I couldn't sum up my thoughts any better than this quote from Mrs.Barbara Streisand in the movie, "A Mirror has two Faces"

"Gregory Larkin: You don't use make-up, do you?
Rose Morgan: What's the point? I'd still look like me, only in color.

I hope not to alienate any women that might disagree with my point here, so let me be clear in saying that everyone's idea of beauty is personal. I would never judge another woman for her desire to put the whole face on. That said, yes, I disagree that that is beauty. If you must cover your face to be "beautiful" then who is this new being that's pretty;it isn't you, is it? I'm curious, to be honest, what is the answer to that question? All that foundation changes your actual skin tone. A heavily lined and shadowed eye almost changes your eye color. Blush...well it gives this false sense of...what? modesty? The days of pinching our cheeks to look naive, virgin'isc and young are long gone. Lipstick I understand to a certain degree but when piled on, extending our real borders to create some puffy lipped femme fatale, really is distasteful to me. 

Perhaps my real point here is that if we create another "us" then isn't that a lie? Men, and women, admire that particular beauty naturally. I think it is like looking at a work of art but once that becomes more personal, does the fact that you are actually a Monet matter? See, Monet's art is beautiful from a distance but once you get close you find out that that is only a trick of several layers applied. If a man takes this woman with the flawless skin, bright eyes and sexy lips home but then wakes up with that same woman with uneven skin, or heaven forbid blemishes or freckles, smudgy eyes and thinner lips,what then? Is this not some form of deceit? I couldn't blame a man at all for feeling deceived. The answer for some women is to wake up quickly and reapply that face. However, the day will come when that alarm doesn't go off in time or the routine merely becomes tiring and the real you will appear. Personally, I merely feel like showing the real me from the start is the only way to have an honest relationship. I don't want to entrap a man to want me; he has to want the real me, freckles and all.

Another real factor is I just don't want to have to deal with the upkeep of it all. When I am in the sun, I don't want to have to worry about my eyeliner getting smudgy. If it rains, I would miss the beauty of it because I'd be too concerned about the running of my  mascara. Lets not forget the moments of intimacy when the guy wants to touch your face and comes back with a hand smeared by foundation or lipstick of his own. The actual weight and wear of make-up makes me nuts! I also have a keen sense of my age and how the years are flying by so eventually I know that my skin will suffer by the chemicals in this make-up. Ladies, look good now, put your warpaint on but it will come back to haunt you when you reach that age that make-up can no longer hide and in fact, has damaged. 

I certainly wish I had Angelina Jolie's lips(who doesn't?) instead of my normal-sized, if not slightly too small lips. I would love to have one of those gorgeous, perfectly shaped noses instead of my father's that sits on my face. God knows I often wish my green eyes shined as brightly as Milla Jovovich's stunning blue ones. I wonder if there is any woman on the face of the planet that is truly happy with every feature of her body. Nah, I don't really wonder, I know that woman doesn't exist because we are taught that we aren't enough. The make-up commercials, models with bright lights and lots of perfect camera angles make us believe that their beauty must be ours. I don't buy it and lord knows I wish more women felt that way. 

Maybe it will take me longer to find the man that sees my beauty. Maybe women won't look at me and want to be me as they do that make-up laden woman. The thing is... I will know who I am and show the world that I won't hide that person, no matter what the standard of beauty is for the moment. Boldly and with confidence I believe natural beauty is the only one that time will never derail so here I am. 

Brain Orgasm

Isn't it funny how the mind is our most stimulating organ? We can create images in our heads that can physically effect our bodies. Certain words can trigger responses ranging from the very gutteral emotions to the highest of high. In today's society that is even more prevalent with internet dating, long distance relationships and even overseas daliances. It is as if nothing can derail our basic need for love, sex or mere connection. I, personally love this new era of verbal foreplay. In my opinion, it is another medium to ensure that not even distance keeps you from showing your need, love and desire for the one you love. Sure nothing beats that physical touch but in the meantime, life being what it is, it is nice to know that we can make lemonade with the correct formula of lemons...or is this phenomenon taking us away from the traditional and physical need for actual interactions? Is it possible that we have settled for this form of affection because the technology is available in lieu of our former desires?

If you think that this is a perfectly acceptable way to share yourself with someone I urge you to check out this superb blog: http://www.coupledtogether.com/blog/2009/6-steps-to-better-phone-sex/

However, if you feel that affection can only be valid on the physical plain alone then perhaps you should join this Facebook group:http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=7037505545

I  urge everyone to decide their own morality. Personally I choose complete and utter freedom for myself, as long as I am with the man I care for but I do not judge for those that would limit that definition of "with". What I would say to that Facebook group and anyone crucifying my opinion is , "get your head out of your ass and live a little!" Life is meant to be lived, mistakes and all.

Be a slut, please!

Saturday my niece turned 17. My goodness I have watched her grow. She was a very spoiled baby but blossomed into a lovely young girl until (cue: dramatic drum roll) teenagedom. From here, although she is still dear to my heart, she has become...hmmm, how to put this nicely...slutty. PS, that word is only being used for clear and effective verbage. That may seem harsh but I don't believe in mincing words when the stakes are high. I discuss this with my niece every chance I get. Truth be told, as I do with her, this is what your teenage years are for. I told her be a slut if you want, but be a safe one. Sure, I could lie to her and tell her abstinence is best but I'd prefer her enjoy her life, rather than live in that horrible state of repression. Repression is indeed a worse condition than any perceived wrongdoing ,in my opinion.Something I was entrenched in as a good Catholic girl and am now paying for. Let me explain.

It is a fact that during the teenage years our hormones are raging out of control. This, not only creates a moral dilemma but plays upon the actual physical body. Between the physical ache of sexual exploration and the inner need for intimacy this time in a young adult's life is for exactly that...exploration. That is not done just for the sake of satiation but rather figuring out our sexual identities. This is a highly important and overlooked part of the growing up process because let's face it, we are created sexual creatures. This must be acknowledged! If we skip this process then, it will return to be reexamined at a less convenient time in our lives, not to mention some confusing years in between.

As is the case for me, at the age of 30 something is not the time to be unsure of what you want and how you want it. This stage in life should be for the obtaining of what we learned as a young adult. Yet here I am 37 years old, in the prime of my sexuality and desiring sex in the most base of ways. Of course it's too late for me to have the sexual freedom my body is yearning for because I have already been brainwashed into believing that sex should be just okay. All my life I was told that good, hot, yummy sex should only happen with the man you love. Now, that I agree with but the question is...what if the man you love isn't good? Well, as a good Catholic girl it was stressed that that isn't the important part so I settle. I deny myself of this aching need that is accosting my body in lieu of salvation. What girls and boys alike need to learn during their formulative years is that sex IS important and it should be a factor in finding the one you want to spend your life with. Satisifying your heart is very important but the body must be included for that to be complete. Young adults must be given full knowledge.

The opposite side of this is abstinence, as I mentioned above. I believe this advice to be highly irresponsible of any sane adult but lets look at what happens when this is enforced. First of all you are lying to these young adults. You are telling them that there is only one valid option, leaving them no room to decide for themselves. Another mode during teenagedom is taking responsibility for their own decisions by learning how to weigh the pros and cons. Giving this flawed advice is disarming them of the ability to choose and become independent. The second most prevalent harm this rhetoric enables is simply the confusion factor. Their bodies are telling them one thing, while the holier than thou adult(whom has probably already had their fill of exploratory sex) is telling them to resist these evil impulses, thus creating a deeply seated guilt that rivals Catholic guilt and will forever make them question their own sexuality.

Sadly, this decision is left up to each parent. I can tell you as a mother and an aunt I choose complete disclosure so as to encourage the young adults in my care to learn and choose a life of their own, even if those lead to the wrong ones. We are all here to learn and that process begins at birth and NEVER ends. I would implore anyone on the fence to consider allowing the human being in your care, under your guidance, to make their own life decisions, thus teaching them true responsibility that comes with the freedom of choice.

Midnight Rant

Ahh, insomnia...could you be my dearest of friends? my constant companion? Like a true friendship there are times I resent you so. Is it wrong to desire someone with the same infliction? I reach out for my phone often and then realize there is no one to call. So, I walk to the living room, turn the tv on; nothing holds my attention there. My next attempt at consolation is a steamy hot bath. That doesn't work for me anymore because my new bathroom has no vents...I never thought I'd say this but it gets too hot in there!

Oh but wait...daytime approaches. Finally sleep comes inconveiniently derailing my entire life plan. Oh well...Zzzzzz

Merry-go-Round

I've come to another crossroads in my life so it seems(who says only men have mid-life crises?). I have a restlessness deep inside that I can't pin point. There is a knocking, a rattling emptiness inside me that begs for acknowledgement. I can't figure out its source as of yet, but I have many to choose from. Maybe it's the move and change of environment. Maybe it's that my stalker has returned. Maybe it's...no more than likely, it has a lot to do with my health issues. Then in true causality the financial difficulties that follow may be a huge part of my current state. Of course fifty percent of this is more than likely because a man I thought loved me, knew me, planned a life with is now happily living his life without me.

Nevertheless the reason, this has brought about changes I'm exasperated with accepting. I have paused in my writings. I have quit two of my favorite MMO's. I have slipped up on my new and improved lifestyle with food. These are all things that have made me happy and I can't seem to reclaim that right now. I find myself becoming insecure about things that are a great source of joy in the past. This makes me angry! Yes, I said it...I am ANGRY with myself...with life...with God because I am allowing something temporary to dampen my spirit.

My writing gives me more than pleasure than I think any one person will ever understand (except maybe a fellow writer). I used to wake up, every morning with a myriad of thoughts that I couldn't wait to put pen to. I walked, sometimes practically crawled to my computer before seeing the light of day to tap out exactly what was on my mind. Don't get me wrong those thoughts are still very much in my head but now I find myself doubting their appeal to others. In my mind I become overly critical about the style in which I write or the structure of each post. This caused my hands to pause, while my mind becomes this battleground for clarity.

As I said, I just cancelled World of Warcraft and informed my guild mates that I didn't know when or if I'd be back. City of Heroes was another game that no longer calls out to me. This game was an amazing outlet for my creativity and a continued attempt at honing my social skills. For that matter both of these games are a huge component in meeting new people...fighting the urge to be a loner that is a strong one within me.

I hate even writing this but they say to free oneself you must first name the pain, yes? So here we go...I have started going through drive-thrus again. Specifically the greasy, nasty burgers that I had given up for several months  now call my name as I drive by again. There is nothing good about them and I know this. Truth be told they don't even taste good. I think it's the grease that addicts us or the fatty condiments. Ew, that was gross to type, to think about, but it must be said to overcome...I think.

My insecurities are such that they will not even allow me to specify, even here, my safe place of words. Suffice it to say they whisper doubts with almost every move I make or phrase I begin to utter or write.

Rereading this post for errors filled me with anger. Seeing these pathetic confessions makes my body tremble in defiance. I am NOT this person! I am a strong woman with an even stronger mind and imagination that will not be reigned in. I am going to write no matter who or if anyone finds it to their taste. I am not going to allow my stalker any influence over my life because 'it' doesn't matter to my world. I am going to game as I desire with no thoughts of whether or not my friends will come with me. I will not eat another greasy burger because my body truly is my temple and as such I will not defile it with junk. I will fight this melancholy with the strength of my neverending spirit. It matters not that I even truly understand the source. I am determined to be the positive spirit that my soul desires. That begins with the acceptance of all my doubts, desires and failings, as well as continuing the things that bring me fulfillment. The End or rather...Continuing....

My Self

Since I was very young I have struggled with my Self.

• My parents, as is true for most, tried to foster a Self for me that epitomizes the dependable Catholic good girl;Every time I even consider cussing or ...worse, this Self pours on the judgement=Self1 Saint Catherine is created. 
• My sister attempted to persuade me to be an ideal she will never aspire to, thus always making her Self feel less and angry with my Self; this Self reappears every time my sis enters the room and we will never have a good relationship=Self2Successful and Independent Catherine is created.
•  All of my friends and teachers in school convinced my Self that I was smart; since then my ability to learn is often thwarted by this because hey, I know it all=Self3Intelligent Catherine is created. 
• My Bff tried to coerce my Self to believe itself wholly spiritual and wrong for any desire of normalcy;Now when a banal choice is made, I doubt it and cross reference to what a saint might do=Self4Open and spiritual Catherine is created..

I've never believed any of these Self's were accurate because they never satisfied me. Within me there is a constant restlessness...a need to be so much more than I have ever known.

•  Some people have told me this is my soul looking for God thus informing me that I am a Self that has not got enough God in my life=Self0Satanic Catherine is created. 
• Society whispers this gaping hole exists because I don't have a man to fulfill my happiness; This self has me in constant search of Mr.right with such a desperation that Mr.Wrong almost always shows up-Self5Man Hunter.

Me, the me that lights up when I see a mother look at her child with such love; Me, the me that is re-energized when I step outside and am greeted by my puffy white clouds or the blanket of stars winking at me ; Me, the me that loves the feeling of pure freedom when I am on the open road, pushing my car to its limits...In these moments I realize that my Self is too much...too beautiful...too unwritten to be any one thing. I am all of these things, yet none of them existing together. My Self is and will be forever seeking a self. Upon my deathbed I am confident I will happily not know who my Self is but I will look back at my life and marvel at who my Self has been.

Secrets

There is a wonderful website that I frequent once a week. They post new items every Sunday. It is called Post Secrets. It's the place for exactly what the name implies. Every week/day people transform beautiful, plain and/or eccentric post cards by scribbling their secrets upon, anonymously. Out of the thousands, about twenty-five notes are picked to be showcased on the website each week. Even more are put in the book; there are 4 books so far (I have 2 of them). The author of these books and, in fact this oasis for the guilt-ridden is Frank Warren. "Frank Warren claims that the postcards are inspirational to those who read them, have healing powers for those who write them, give hope to people who identify with a stranger's secret, and create an anonymous community of acceptance" (Warren, F. (2006). My Secret. New York City: HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.)

The concept behind this is that sometimes we just need to put it out there. It doesn't matter the purpose or results. Can you imagine having a long held thing/event caged inside your entire life? Picture confessing that to a person, anyone you know, be it friend or family. What do you think the results would be? If you can answer your secret would be well received or accepted with grace then count yourself beyond lucky. However if you are like most of us, the answer would be nothing but condemnation. We, as human beings aren't hardly aware of just how judgmental we really are, even and maybe especially to those we love. In order to correct this, we seek out therapists and strangers that might allow us more freedom to be who we are without prejudice.

As Mr.Warren intended I get to this site and I am moved to tears by the urgency of some of the confessions. Oftentimes, I am inspired by the beauty of another persons secret self. Believe it or not there are even notes of pure entertainment that make me laugh out loud. I suppose it is the anonymity that creates this atmosphere of wonderment. Secrets are told that no one would dare utter. Thoughts that rarely see the light of day, beyond our minds are brought to the world. It is exactly like getting to take a sneak peak into someone's diary. I suppose it might be compared to blogging, at least my kind of blogging, definitely.

My purpose here is to see all human beings. I strive to accept and acknowledge all walks of life. This website is a very good place to get an inkling of what that entails. I urge you to go there and tell me what you see. I bet your wondering if I have mailed in a secret of my own...I'll never tell.

Red, all the way

What if our lives were not our own? What if fate controlled our lives and free will was a thing of imagination? Let’s examine the pros and cons of this scenario. On the one hand that would mean that we could do no wrong. Since we no longer had choice then good and evil were no longer our responsibility. We could live our lives with zero guilt or worry because all decisions were gone. This would confirm that our creator is truly a selfish one of human failings to use us as puppets upon a string or would it be proof that it cared so much so as to not allow us to fail? Why would a omnipotent being create these beautiful beings, only to allow them nothing of life? It would not be our own lives if we were not doing the choosing! Perhaps like controlling parents, it believed that it was protecting us.

On the other hand, what if fate only carried the playbook of our lives but we chose which game to run? Lets suppose that every decision we made, destiny had a path that correlated to each. The most perfect way to imagine this life would be seeing yourself standing at a crossroads of infinite roads. There right beside you is fate/destiny/God with pen in hand, posed to highlight the path once you choose.

Basically, I am asking, if you were given the opportunity, would you choose the blue pill or the red pill?

Citified Country Girl

My childhood was a good mix of adventures really. Birth, alone, was in a foreign land that not many can claim. It was an experience that I do remember and value to this day. Not the birthing part(that was kinda a blur), but the 6 or so years I lived in Germany. Then we moved to Texas, yeehaw! It was there my Arachnophobia was born and perhaps my dislike of the heat. Years later I am stranded on planet North Carolina. It was most definitely an alien feeling place. I won't go into details, destroying the southern name that I attempt to own. There are things you Yankee's will never know.

Yep...NC. I hated it. It's safe to say that. I felt like I had landed in the middle of a cornfield(quite literally at times) with no proof of life. And so I suffered on for years as a city girl forced to be country. I made the best of it by communing with nature and all the while keeping a book in my hand so as to not lose track of my mind. I resisted assimilation for a long time but eventually the brainwashing took. I believed myself to be one of them and even(gasp) married one. For that matter I even produced one of my own.

Then...life kinda crashed a bit and flipped upside down on me. I moved to a land far, far away with bright lights, no stars at night and lots of traffic. There were moments of longing for the sight of that big white ball in the sky at night but I adapted quickly. In fact, i was so shocked that I convinced myself this was where I belonged.

BAM! Life throws another curve ball. Not only do I end up back in the country but in my family home. There was no question coming here...I was home. I heard the crickets at night. I actually woke up to a rooster crowing. Those dots in the sky...my goodness they lay glistening on that velvety blanket in the sky and I see every one of them.

Long story short...turns out I'm a bonefied (oh its a word) country girl! Ya'll come back ya hear

Faretheewell

I want you to know one thing.

I will remain on my feet...

Even on the days that I feel half alive

Although my heart is struggling to beat
and despite the fact that I constantly cry

so today I can't hear the music soar
because it brings me renewed pain
Tomorrow I'll crank it up more
Joy will return with each refrain

I close my eyes and your blue eyes remain
Just like every mark on your body I knew
but the day will come that I won't remember your name
and I'll forget what I loved about you

But you ,my dear, will always find me
because your heart holds the weight of what you've done
There won't be a time you'll truly forget me
Even when the new ones come
Because me...you lost what you'll never find
I'll haunt your days with the remorse you didn't show
some days it will bring you to your knees
and that is what you most needed to know

Goodbye Larry.

Actions Vs. Words

Being a lover of words, I am easily seduced by such. A grand promise of things too good to be true...a half-hearted apology or excuse...a tiny glimmer of decency can persuade me to believe, so foolishly. It has taken many lessons to learn that it is the actions that truly do speak the truth, not my beloved words. Trust me I come to this conclusion with a broken heart in hand. This weekend I was shown the difference and the final nail was carved into my romantic delusions.

I guess I should say thank you to him. Thank you for finally allowing me to see the real you. Thank you for taking away my childish ideals that had clung for so long to this silly heart of mine. Thank you for allowing the long held tears to flow through my body and soul. Thank you for finally giving me the courage to scream out in pain. Thank you for this lesson so I will never be hurt again.

I'm back

I have returned (cue dramatic music). The bears and bugs and this one danged rooster have not bested me  yet. Although the spiders and I  might have a mortal fight to the death...soon, but for now I am alive and well. I have survived my move to the country(for the most part). My home is back to looking like one so let the blogs begin...

Moving

Today is the day. We are moving. Before today it has been boxes and bags and those terrible decisions to be made of trash or not to trash. Funny, how I actually love moving into a new home but hate the actual moving part. Not so funny, I suppose! The thing is I actually( I might say actually too much) do love the unpacking part...finding a new spot..a new arrangement to old things. I'm excited! (something might be wrong with me)

This might be my last blog for a bit too because our internet service won't get put up for days at the new home. UGH! I don't know how I'll live without it. Gosh, I guess this means I actually have to be efficient and stuff. I might even wander out doors at my own risk. I hear there is this shiny thing in the sky that gives nutrients. I might give it a shot. Wish me luck!

I must have done something good...

For some time now I have been researching the steps it is going to take to build my dream home. I've written about this goal many times because it is crucial to the success of my life. I've gotten a book that tells me the style of houses. I've gotten a book that is specific to bathroom design, floor types,wood beaming. I've poured over, compared and priced floor plans. Last but not least, I have prayed that I can make this dream come true.

Thursday, one of those strange "the Lord works in mysterious ways" event presented itself. I was offered my grandparents house--paid for, no rent and even leniency of no lights or water switched over for a month while I get situated. It is not necessarily my dream home but it is a beautiful big house, out in the country where I have fond memories. My son and I are so excited, words hardly can express. The biggest part of all of this is the blessing factor. Daniel and I had began having some really tough times. I was truly at my wit's end living paycheck to paycheck to make all my ends meet. Then ...this happened. I don't even know what to say. This has rarely  happened to me. Somebody is looking out for me, obviously.

Thank you to everyone that prayed, hoped and loved me through this trying time. I will be able to give back now. I'll be able to see that life is so much more than these little things that seemed like a world-ender.

Arguments, Lies and Drama, Oh my!

I don't know how to argue. Every time I have an argument I think two things: Either one of us sees the other persons point of view, aka gives in or neither one of us will budge so there is only one option, to split. Let's be honest, how often are people willing to admit they are wrong. Even better how about getting someone to admit that they aren't right or wrong anymore than I am. That brings us to the rare third option.This endangered species is to be adults and accept that we have differing opinions that we should both be able to respect. Ooopsy I just used that horrible S word, should. In reality, option number three is an awesome task. Ego must be taken out for one. Also you must examine the disagreement itself, its structure. If the two people (or more) stayed on the task of the topic then it might be salvageable but, if it became an attack on the person, rather than the subject, you have neglected the battle for a war. If this happens, and I must say it invariably does, then the healing process is longer because it has become personal.

I think this began as a child seeing my parents "disagree" to violent proportions, even though they survived all that into their comfy middle-aged lifestyles now. My parents actually made their arguments sound like a competition. One seemed to attempt to reach a more threatening plateau than the other. It went so wrong that they even claimed they wouldn't leave just in spite of the other. Yes, you read that correctly. My mother said she would not leave because that would give my father the peace that he didn't deserve. Similarly my father said he wouldn't give my mom the satisfaction of leaving. Their simple disagreements always became epic battles,ending in hurt and base behavior. That right there is a funny little sidenote: my parents have been together for 30 something years now just to win an argument.

I never wanted it to be that way for me so I am always ready to say, lets just stop this right now. Unfortunately, I inherited my parents' Irish tempers so that moment of rationale doesn't always reach me before things are past the point of no return. More often than not, I am left backpedaling to find a safe way to exit the situation. For me the next step is a process of extended reflection that I must do alone. The time away is my attempt to see an alternative to never speaking to this person again. Truthfully, the easy answer of just leaving is foremost in my mind but I do fight it. I examine where the conversation took its turn for the worst, what my part in it all was and if or how it could have been prevented or will be in the future.

As much as I love the idea of a debate, shaking people out of their humdrum opinions which are often merely repeated ones from others, and giving my own self important thoughts, I hate arguments! There is a distinguishable difference between debating and arguing but it appears I can't seem to find that place so...back to the drawing board.

Lies in Politics? OMG!!!

Guess what...I don't care that Weiner showed his wang to someone on Twitter. As long as that person, be it male or female were consenting of it, I could care less. I do not believe a public figure's personal life has to  impact his politics. I am finding it hard to focus on how to simplify my position. Lets resort to the old cliche about behind closed doors. No one knows who the freaks are while walking around in your daily lives and why should you? If we were held to the same standard as public figures I'm sure many of us would be shamed, stoned or whatever it seems we are attempting to resort to when verbally flogging Mr.Weiner. He was quoted to have given an apology to Bill Clinton. I have no idea why but I have a feeling he felt a kinship of sorts. Another human being...a flawed man, persecuted for matters that are beyond private.

Lets explore that horrible era when a very good president was impeached for a private act. A historical moment based on something that no law should dictate!! I don't even care that he lied "to the American People" as so many self-righteous hypocrites hissed. I would have lied too! In order to protect my privacy, heck ya I'd lie. It was no one's business what he does in his private time.One of the ideals that is spouted is that because he lie about this, he would lie in his government dealings, foreign affairs, etc. Let me tell you so plainly your head may spin...You bet your ass he is going to lie. We are talking about politicians...they all lie! It is their job to lie to us and to others in order to protect the greater good. Do we really want to know each time our safety has been so close to taken?  If you want to argue the pure morality route then I would say we don't know what Hilary and him have going on. For all we know(really do NOT know) they could very well have an agreement, an open marriage of sorts. Again, if that is the agreement between two consenting adults is it not our place to wave the judgement flag.

By no means am I saying I personally approve of either men's actions but what I am saying that it is not my place to decide. It is their life! We do not own that part of them, merely because their job happens to be making laws.

A kiss by any other name

I love kissing...BUT, I truly enjoy a particular kind of kiss. I call it the progressive kiss. The name, although not unique, is indeed indicitive of the style. In gamerspeak this particular kiss would be akin to leveling up. It should always begin with the slow drawing inwards to each other, faces close, lightly caressing the face or hair. Ahh, that moment I feel his breath mingling with mine. Just a milisecond of time before our lips touch it is as if our souls are mingling, then Ahhh....Impact begins with the casual exploring of only each lip. Bringing each one into anothers, capturing it and savoring the taste and feel of your love. I would be almost perfectly happy to stay in this mode for the whole kiss but normally the passion builds so that the tongue must be introduced. It is here were so many kisses go wrong for me. I don't like the aggressive tongue. I don't like it being plunged into my throat as if exacting vengenance. For me I prefer the tongue to tease and encourage more intimacy in other parts of the body. Okay, Okay, I'll stop there. I'm starting to need a rating, if I keep this up. 

That is the kiss I wish for and have only had a few times by select people. I wonder about that too. Can the good kiss only come from someone that you are truly meant for? If sparks fly, and the kiss is perfect...is that a real sign that he is the one or that you have some kind of special connection? I used to believe this wholeheartedly but now, I am beginning to doubt, considering the two people I enjoyed the kiss from to a crazy extreme were both men that I wasn't that in love with. Strange....

Prologue:
I'm reading the sequel to the classic story of Gone with the Wind, titled, "Scarlett". In that and the orginal novel, Scarlett's lifes blood, her source of energy and power seems to come from her ancestral home, Tara. I remember fully understanding her drive to fight for her home. Unwittingly, my need for my own home might have been influenced by Scarlett's obsessive behavior over her own home.
My One Need, Chapter 1
Truthfully, there are many reasons why a house, my own home is a driving need in my life. One my parents never owned theirs until they were nearly 40 and I was well out from under them. Leases were always coming up, prices going up; all causing us to move more often than I liked as a child. It made for an unstable life in which I craved a sense of security, but was denied. Therefore, it stands to reason that I am seeking something in a home that was missing in my childhood, dependability, stability and a secure place.

The next clear moment when realized a home was mandatory for my life was when I walked into Dancing Moon Bookstore. The place radiated warmth. As soon as I walked in the door I had a sense of peace perpetuated by the incense permeating the whole building. Then you hear the tinkle of wind chimes made vibrant with a gentle breeze produced by perfectly placed fans to create a most joyous sound. These sounds...these smells actually changed my emotional state to one of pure joy. Even now, every time I walk in there I am bombarded with tranquility, almost against my will, pleasantly so. Therefore, I knew that I wanted to recreate this beauty in my own daily living and that had to be done with none of the restrictions you find in a rental home; I needed to buy and build my own heaven.

Upon one's deathbed it is important to leave this world with no regrets. Some people pass on never having known love, success, fame or fortune and for this they take their last breaths with remorse in their hearts. For me, the only thing that could cause me to rethink my life is not owning my own home. This would be  my one  ultimate failure in life.
Epilogue:
I have currently checked out many books detailing the necessities of house building. There is hope yet to buile my heaven.

The End

All about me

Let me begin with a disclaimer: I understand Astrology is not an exact science(yep I said science). I know that there are exceptions, allowances for free will, social/economic status that will warp the traditional zodiac traits. 

That said, there is still a basic core that I find correlates to each person's destined signs; this is mine. 

Pisces Personality:

Sometimes you feel that you do not belong in this world, but where you actually belong is still unknown. People around you may be even more confused by your hard to follow personality. You have great intuition and can easily understand anyone's point of view. This could cause problems, though, as you try to help end everyone's sob story.

You are capable of hard work and sacrifice(ONLY when its to help someone else hehe) to reach a goal or help someone. You are best suited in a more relaxing job(nursing...not stressful at all...psyche), than one filled with stress and conflict. Filled with talent and charm, you have wonderful ideas and skills(wonderful might be stretching it). However others rarely see this side of you because you are so unsure of yourself (why did they have to go and put that out there. I am not unsure of myself, or am I?)

Pisceans are very generous and unselfish and people always want to be friends with you. You almost have a sixth sense (I'm totally psychic) about what's going to happen and others would be best to listen to your hunch. You do not judge others by their cover(Nope my mom's voice still rings in my ears if I try to judge), but by the person they are inside. And everyone can appreciate that.

So this is me all day long with very few to no alterations. Now you know. I'm a big bundle of sensitive nerves, all the while trying to help everyone else be the perfect people that I think my utopia dictates. 


Dan Millman says I am a 33/6 in his fabulous book, "The life you were born to live". This means:

33/6

Working 33/6 in the Positive

Surrounded by a bright energy field reflecting purity and clarity, these sensitive individuals have an attractive energy and enthusiastic way of helping others to see their own perfection and the positive side of every issue. Their body is strong because they've developed and refined it through proper exercise(dang I hated giving up those juicy, sloppy, greasy burgers!) and diet. They accept their shape whether or not it meets anyone else's idea of perfection. They see the inherent perfection of others, and they have come to accept themselves; self-evaluation has changed to self-valuation. They always have a kind word (the word is dooo dooo) or good thing to say about others. Their laser eyesight can spot the beauty in anyone or anything; they see the higher beings we are all becoming. With their high standards and sense of fairness, they work for justice, right,(they forgot to say, and are forever disappointed when the world doesn't become perfect like it should) and truth in constructive ways.

Working 33/6 in the Negative

Tight-lipped, inhibited outsiders, these individuals have down-turned corners of their mouth that indicate their disappointment with most people and their anger and frustration about the world. "It isn't fair!" is the battle cry of these harsh critics, as they judge the world against unreachable ideals. They hold in their expression or let it out in negative tirades and complaints as their laser vision points out the flaws in everyone and everything. Their body holds tension within extra fat or extra muscle as body armor to insulate them from a world that feels burdensome due to their own self-imposed standards.

 
I have no real higher purpose in this blog. I merely wanted to talk about me, me me. 

Tinkling words

If you read my other blogs you will understand the beauty of this: "I can't say I got this for you, but I can say,  you got this and I got your back". This was uttered from a dear friend of mine. I write it here because it needs to be seen by the world. I don't know if I can ever fully express how dear this was to my heart. 

Really?!

I just overheard a woman praising God. There is nothing wrong with that part. The thing is just before that moment of divine exclamation I heard her tearing down a family friend (behind her back, of course). How do those two thoughts work in the same "christian" heart?

I have a friend, actually more than one, that believes , not only in pre-marital sex but promiscuity, yet claims this same biblical devotion. In fact, said religious friend has even dismissed me as a romantic interest specifically due to my spiritual leanings. So I'm unclean because I have a more open view of God but he can sleep around and remain this faithful follower.

Lets not forget all the atrocities committed in the name of religion throughout history.

What am I missing? I understand we all have our different views/opinions of God and religion but surely they should all center around promoting and valueing all human life. How could anyone believe God, a higher power, being anything but the purest example of love? How could a superior being, our creator, even a divine source be remotely linked to human flawed emotions such as envy, revenge, hate and even plain anger? Surely such a creature would have risen above such trivialities! Therefore if you are this consecrate soul then shouldn't you understand that your goal is to be like God...loving and kind?I just don't understand ....really!

"The One" List

I want a man to wash my hair
I want a man to offer me the remote control
I want a man to ask me if I mind if he leaves for the boys night out
I want a man to kiss me every time he leaves or sees me
I want a man that wants to kiss, just for the sake of it
I want a man that not only shows me his love but tells me
I want a man that talks with me
I want a man that I like, not just love
I want a man that walks on  the street side of the curb
I want a man that always holds my doors open
I want a man who holds my hand when we walk together
I want a man that knows me and accepts all the flaws without trying to change them
I want a man that makes me laugh
I want a man that can hold me while I cry
I want a man that wants my touch always
I want a man that will stand up and by me, no matter what
I want a man that believes in forever

Googling Love

Even at my current age (let's say over 25), I still struggle with the pubescent questions that seem to plague us entirely too often.  What is the difference between love and being in love? how many different kinds of love are there? ...need I go on? In a true showing of the day, I googled my dilemma. Yep and here is a beautiful excerpt from one a blog I found that brought me down to Earth with a sense of hopeful certainty:


"... When we’re in love we want to spend all our time with the other person; it’s a perfect opportunity to get to know them better, so we can know how best to love them.“I am in love with you” means “You make me feel warm and fuzzy”. By itself, being in love does not guarantee a happy or healthy or long-term relationship. In contrast, “I love you” means “When I have to choose between my desire and your need, I will choose the latter.” Love is a choice and a promise, and while it doesn’t guarantee we will have a happy relationship either – especially if the other person doesn’t reciprocate – it is more likely. We’d all like love and being in love, the action and the emotion, to always go together, but there will be times when they don’t. It’s the choices we make at those times that we see our relationship for what it is: merely a pleasant feeling or commitment..."


I'll let my reader(s) derive what they choose from this but for me, it helped immensely and I wanted to share it. 

Lymphedema

Today marks a significant time in my life, at least here in my blog, perhaps to my life as well. I am going to disclose something that has been haunting my days since I found out, officially last week. I have Lymphedema. It is otherwise known as Lymphatic Obstruction. It is a chronic disease that is caused by the failing of the lymphatic system and/or a lack of lymph nodes present at birth. The Lymphatic system helps fight any sickness, alongside the immune system so when it is compromised you are susceptible to infection.  There are many different causes and mine is a genetic one. This means I was born with crucial lymph nodes missing in my legs particularly.  I experienced a flare when I was overseas as a child but they had little to no information at the time. I was put in a buck traction at the early age of 4 with no real diagnosis to be found. My leg function returned and my white blood cells went down magically after about a week. Five years ago, another flare began that is just now being diagnosed; it won't be as easy this time to regain normalcy.

I was completely devastated upon hearing the words Chronic Disease. I can tell you it took every strength I had to not cry in front of my therapist. Although I assure you my eyes were bright and shiny with the unshed ones. That is the bad news but the good news is there is treatment to keep this under control. Currently I am at the early stage 1-2, thank goodness. There is an extensive and costly therapeutic program that involves wrappings and intensive massage. I have found an amazing therapist at UNC that I am confident will help me through this difficult time. She is not only a fabulous therapist, a nice person, but she also suffers from this disease herself due to a bug bite. 

Yes, I'm hopeful that I can do this but I can well tell you there are many times that I am overwhelmed by facing this especially alone. I confess, with shame, but one of the many concerns this has brought to me is my love life. It is the last thing that should be on my mind but truthfully, I feel like this is the final nail, halting all hope in my romantic search. Thank God for friends! 

Those Three Little Words

I love you. Pfft! Those words carry little weight to me. They are lovely, yes but under no circumstance do they make my heart believe. You might think me harsh for that opinion but let me explain that I find love to be easy. As a human being trying to do the right thing I tend to love everyone. I can tell my friends all day long I love them. Now when I love you is uttered with a certain passion that changes everything. As it does if you rearrange the words to form, "I'm in love with you". So these words can give the warm fuzzies but the words that every woman really wants to hear is..." I got this".

I got this. Those three little words will always convey a sense of responsibility, stability and a semblance of permanentness. When a man says this he is saying you can rely on him, that the love is so fully there that he will make sure everything is done to make you feel secure, always. I love those three little words.  

Echoes of a life

My parents are coming over today with my grandparents furniture. I'm very excited about it! I prepared my carpets yesterday with a professional cleaning. They look wondrous! This living room set was the one I admired as a child, in part because we were not allowed to go in there. It was my grandparents formal living room. We may have been in there twice my whole life for a family function. Amongst the excitement at having a treasured piece from my grandparents, there is a small reminder of sadness. The reason I am obtaining this is due to my grandparents impending death, to be perfectly blunt. They have been put in a nursing home(a decision I still disagree on) some time ago. Since that time, their health and mental acuity has quickly went downhill. No wonder might I say since they have been together and in their own beautiful home for over 50 years.

Imagine this, as it appears my family cannot: A young woman and man of a much older generation, than this one, finding one another in love. Against many obstacles and hardships they find stability in their lives with one another through the decades. Everyday it is that other person beside you in the bed. It is your partner for life that you have come to learn, respect and love unconditionally. Then you add a home to the mix. A place where your children are raised. Even when they are gone their children come back to replace the echoes of merriment. My grandparents home was the mecca of kindness, generosity and security. You could always count on my grandmother offering us Frito Lays and a soda as soon as we came in from running all over their grounds. The tractor rides my grandfather, even when not feeling the best, would offer to us every time. I always knew the cows didn't really need feeding, every time we came...he did that for us, my sister and I.

Now picture all that gone in a matter of weeks. Imagine trying to fathom that the person and home you had built your life with, wanted to grow old with, would no longer be there in your last days. Personally, it breaks my heart to no end. The point of us finding that someone, that constant seeking, is so that our lives will be shared with someone til the end. What a travesty that is has been cut short!

My family doesn't understand the quick degradation of my grandparents health. They keep looking to doctors for the answers; putting them both through tests and medicinal trials to no satisfaction. I'm curious why it is only me that sees the answer so clearly: They are brokenhearted! Plain and simple, they no longer wish to live a life they haven't chosen. I will miss them dearly and forever be saddened at the disappointing end of it all but I will not weep for their passing. I would not want to live a life devoid of my lifetime of choices, possessions and most of all the love of my life around me; That is not living, existing is no choice!