Thursday, October 10, 2024

A Summer Rain

Like the big, heavy raindrops that fall from the summer sky every now and again. The ones you can hear when they make contact with earth. The ones that refused to fall, that held on to that cloud for as long as they could, until the weight of it all just became too great. And they had to let go.

You wonder what made those raindrops bigger than the rest. What environmental factors were at play to allow them to get so big before they fell? Sometimes we just get a wet mist, like the whole cloud descended and engulfed us and we're just swimming in the particles. But sometimes the raindrops feel like rare meteors that traveled unimaginable distances. They cause us all to turn our eyes to the sky to take it in. Like we've never seen rain before. Those water bombs demanding our attention, putting on an entire Broadway show willing us to respond with a standing ovation. Performance of the year. 

It feels like that. Awe and mystery disguised like a familiar friend. 

All in one breath...
Life is beautiful and confusing. My world is exactly as I've planned it and completely unpredictable. I'm the happiest I've ever been and deeply troubled. I have everything I've dreamed of but the dreams keep taking new form. I am in complete control but the ground I stand on keeps moving.

I am whole and shattered.

I am set back on my heels, almost weekly; a moment of silence for the life I've built, the privileges I enjoy, the peace I'm able to rely on when I need grounding. I am so grateful and often in disbelief that I'm able to live my life in full authenticity; leading truly from my unaltered core. I live life for me. The decisions I make and what I commit to are entirely based on what serves me. What brings joy to my heart, what supports my peace and aligns with my personality. If it doesn't serve me, chances are I'm not doing it. And to some, maybe that seems callous. 

But I've never been more in tune with the intricacies of my own identity; where I thrive, where my demons are buried and how to strike the perfect balance of productivity & relaxation, growth & comfort. I am deeply introspective, analyzing my emotional response to different situations and seeking to understand how I relate, cope, counter, balance, avoid, and overcome. I've spent so much time getting to know me. Ignoring what allows me to be the truest version of me would be entirely wasteful. 

But there's this little corner of my soul, one that starts to get loud every now and again. Growing big and powerful like those really heavy raindrops. It's full of questions, doubts, what-if's and maybes. It's an undoing of all the things I know to be true. It's complex and full of extremely intelligent arguments against the peaceful and comfortable parts of my life. It exudes urgency and threatens upheaval. It manifests dramatic change and expansion, the kind that undoubtedly leaves permanent stretch marks in its wake. A reminder of meaningful sacrifice. 

I am so grounded with deep roots to support the weight of who I’ve become, who I’ve built myself to be. But these heavy raindrops loom overhead, threatening to wash it all away. And they’re clinging to the clouds. But I know one day, the weight of it all will become too great. And I’ll be forced to rip these roots clear out of the ground and earn some new stripes. I know I’ll wear them proudly, like a tattoo telling my story. In the aftermath, I’ll dig through the debris and collect the most precious bits of me. I’ll build new roots, stronger and in new directions.  I’ll discover a new and shiny type of peace, one I never knew before. And it will all have been worth it. But the calm before the storm is the scariest part. You just don’t know what’s ahead.

I am whole and shattered.


Saturday, January 22, 2022

Quilted Thirty

It's taken thirty years to get here. Heartache and growing pains. Shifting, moving, replacing, eliminating, choosing. Lessons learned, do-overs and try-agains. Tears, many of those. Some tears that tore through flesh and bone from the depths of the most buried parts of my soul. Others that gently seeped from the outermost layers of my skin like a glistening dew. This new skin that grew to cover my scars and make me feel beautiful again. This new skin that I willed to grow through my hardest moments. Repeatedly healing the wounds that split wide open, forcing me to start over. I worked to patch the old skin that had dried up and flaked off due to misreading the care label stitched on the inside. I continued to ask myself for healing, for new skin to grow where I needed it most. 

For my 30th birthday, I gave myself that new skin. It's stitched together like a patchwork quilt. The thread made up of strings of letters I've written myself. Love letters written to me, in my own handwriting. Though you can't see the seams from the outside, I can feel them. As life brushes against my arm in passing, I can feel it snag a bit where two patches meet. A little friction, a slight tug. But the seams are strong. The stitching, like a quality weld, meant to hold against the pressure and the test of time.

When I run the tips of my fingers across my bare chest, I can feel those seams. The skin there is just a little thicker than the rest. And it brings a smile to my face. A sense of certainty and knowing. I trust those jagged lines with my life. They will protect me when I need it most. They will serve as reminders of my strength and resilience. They make me feel beautiful and strong. They are peace. They are thirty.



Saturday, March 21, 2020

Don't Wake Me When This is Over

I woke up this morning, no alarm, nowhere to be. I took a shower, made my bed, threw in a load of laundry and ran the dishwasher. I chopped up all the vegetables in my fridge, cooked up some food for the next couple days. I was listening to a shuffle of music and sipping coffee, just cooking away.

And then this song came on, and when it ended, I played it again. I let it wrap me in this meaningful message, that I don't think I'll soon forget. If I had heard this song, just a month ago - I don't think I would have thought twice about it. Give it a listen before you continue reading...I just feel the need to share this with someone. City and Colour: Strangers

This past month has been a whirlwind of change, for so many of us. As you know, the COVID-19 virus is sweeping across the nations, instilling fear, shutting doors, halting businesses, education and sporting events. Where once we saw busy streets, bus stops full of children, rush-hour traffic, bars and restaurants full of people - it's become quiet and slow. The whole world has slowed down. Though it is hard on many, we have seen an outpouring of support from one neighbor to another. It's a strange dynamic - because we will all need to lean on each other more and more in the coming weeks or even months, but it must be done from either side of a 6-foot barrier.

This past month has been especially strange for me, which has only been compounded by the introduction of this widespread virus. For the first time in my entire life, I live alone. No roommate, no significant other, no parents or siblings. Just me. I've been working on truly embracing home-ownership, which, to be honest, initially had me pretty scared. One person to take care of everything - all the bills, all the chores, all the repairs and maintenance - inside and out. But, I was determined to soak this up, find a way to embrace the responsibilities and turn it into something I want to do, versus something I have to do. To view it as a privilege, to have the ability and the desire to be totally self-sufficient and get my priorities in line. To limit distractions, and spend my time with purpose, allowing time for the people and activities that truly align with my goals and make my heart sing. I wrote a blog a while back about my feeling a lack of purpose. I needed a major life change to get back to basics - simplify and start fresh - so that I could begin rebuilding my life with purpose at its core.

I had someone in my life who was no longer serving the better parts of me. I felt so weighed down, small and squashed. The simple parts of life, the ones that should be effortless...felt stressful and over complicated. I felt like a visitor in my own home, an extended guest in a place I had no connection to. I had little faith in the promises I made to myself for my future. The steps I was once taking to build that dream seemed so insignificant and meaningless. I felt so held back, and I knew that if I continued life this way, with someone who wasn't productively passionate about their goals, that I could kiss mine goodbye, too. I had slowly watched my enthusiasm for the future shrink and whither, until I couldn't take it any more. So, I started to make attempts to focus on my personal goals for a while, and stop giving so much attention to the fossilized "you and me, together, goals." I had to make progress somewhere, and if it wasn't going to be our goals together, then it was going to be mine. But then our connection started to tangle. It became strained and started to tear. Focusing on my goals had me running in another direction. We were growing apart. And it became strikingly clear. So I made a change, a major one. I broke off our relationship and began searching for me again.

So here we are, a few months after the breakup and in the middle of my first month alone in the house. It's a lot of adjustment. My first night was really, really hard. The silence and emptiness were crippling. He lived with me for 3 months after we broke up, and I had those full three months to prepare for that first night. I realize now, that no amount of preparation could have stopped the mix of emotions I felt that night. But, I woke up the next day in high spirits. I had gotten through it, and realized that I have not a single thing holding me back from living life the way that is meaningful to me. I spent two weeks organizing, deep-cleaning and rearranging. I finished decorating the living room - rug, coffee table, chair, side tables, throw pillows, pictures, mirrors - the whole nine. I love that room. I'm writing from that room, now. I make my bed every morning, my dirty clothes go straight to the laundry room, my dishes directly into the dishwasher. I am growing a deep connection to this house, my home, for the first time since I bought it almost two years ago. I'm excited to walk through the door after work, I enjoy tidying up and keeping it clean, I'm proud of the decorations and personal touches. I'm. So. Comfortable.

While I'm witnessing these changes in my personal life unfold in front of me, the Novel Caronavirus is forcing change in every other corner of the world, too. I, personally, am very happy for this extra time at home - as actually enjoying my home is a brand new discovery for me. And I truly hope that others, through this period of social distancing and self-quarantine, are able to find similar connections - to their families, spouses, children, to their pets, to their crafts or hobbies. I hope that people use this time with purpose, to refinish that room they never got around to because life was too busy. To find news ways to build on their relationship with their children. To let the slower pace and simpler days teach them patience, kindness, creativity, and peace. I've never spent so much time by myself in my life - I cancelled my birthday celebration with my friends, I'm completely alone in this house (not even a pet!) But I've framed it in positive perspective. I don't know about you, but I needed this.

The world has become so fast-paced. We rush from one scheduled activity to the next. We waste precious time scrolling on social media, hours lost that we don't even take time to add up. Life has gotten so busy that we have to have someone else do our grocery shopping and deliver them to our front doors. The threats surrounding this virus are scary, and the media constantly reminds us how unsafe we are. I truly hope, that families can come together during this time to reconnect and recharge. Remove the sporting events and scheduled drop-offs. Remove the nightlife. Remove the "I'm staying at my friend's house tonight" and what's left are families who have no choice but to turn to each other for companionship and support. I hope that when the world begins to open it's doors again, that we all remember what we have at our cores. Who will be there for us when the lights go out? What truly sets our souls on fire when the distractions are gone? Who do we become, how do we act, in times such as these? Are you proud of the way you lead your life? I hope you find something meaningful to take with you from this experience, a lesson-learned, a deeper connection with yourself or your loved ones...a purpose.

I look forward to the day this threat is minimized and people stop getting sick. But in the meantime, I'll be sitting here in my cozy new living room, re-imagining my future and learning who I am and what my purpose will be. Don't wake me when this is over, just let me drift amidst my dreams.

Tuesday, September 3, 2019

A Cool, Crisp Breeze

I really can't believe it's been almost two full years since I've posted. Astounded, quite honestly. This speaks so much truth into the whole, don't blink...time flies thing.

Gosh, there's been so much on my heart lately and I know the keys on this keyboard are going to fly faster than I can even gather my thoughts. I imagine the overarching theme of this post will be in the form of a question...
How do you kick the incessant, nagging feeling that you're wandering about this Earth... unsettled, restless, and without a trace of clear direction?
Two years of life. Lots of changes, some of them really big. Lots of things to be proud of. Lots of love and family and friends. But there is a lot of confusion, too.  A lot of questions and unknowns.

It's been 16 months since I completed my undergrad and 14 months since we got the keys to our first home. I've received two promotions at work in the last 19 months. We've purchased furniture, refinished 1940's hardwood floors, painted rooms, planted flowers, bought a riding lawn mower, dreamt up patio plans and priced out a few home renovations. I read a novel for leisure for the first time in probably 5 years. I made my own candles, made some do-it-yourself decorations for the house, really honed in on my crafting spirit and channeled my inner Pinterest-aholic. Most recently, I started working on plans to convert our 2nd spare bedroom into a space just for me.

And if there's one thing I've really come to terms with through all of this...it's that money is the ultimate limiting factor in life. (I don't mean to alarm you, but it's something you should know.)

There are so many things I want to do. I want to travel more. I want to continue making this house a home. I want to spend more time with nature. And I want to keep learning. I thought I was so done with school, but my soul is aching for more. I want to take more business classes. I want to get Six Sigma certified. I want to continue expanding my mind and opening up opportunities for my future.

Future. 

Future.

Future.

That word is so heavy. The future is a scary place. And I'm conflicted with how I feel about it. Some days I feel armed to tackle anything life might throw at me. Some days I feel like I'm doing great, taking the right steps, thinking smart, taking precautions and thoroughly weighing options. Other days, I feel like the future hangs over my head like one of those dark clouds in a pharmaceutical-funded anti-depressant commercial. I could be doing better. What will I do if this happens...or that? Is this really how I should be spending my time? Am I actually going to be the person I want to be in 5 years? 10? Will I even have the same values by then? Oh, the pressure.

I'm sure this is totally normal. Like, that's just a part of life, right? Take the good with the bad. Stress out, then relax...and do it again.

But it feels like more than that lately. There's this dense fog that seems to cloud around everything I do. It swoops in when I go to the store to buy groceries and hovers over my cart like a hawk stalking its prey. It fills all the corners and coats all the ceilings in my house. It repeatedly crashes across the flickering TV screen like waves hitting a beach. It condensates on my windshield as I drive to work each morning. It flattens itself and mimics my favorite blanket, adhering to the curves of my body as I try to go to sleep. It attaches itself to my every move, talks over me in my head (totally rude) and builds a barrier between me and the me I want to be.

I have so much focus on the future. Goals. Dreams. Visions. Fears.
But because of this, I feel that I'm missing out on today. Here. Now.
And I'm just now realizing it.

I'm not content. So much so that I'm throwing myself at different things...hobbies, projects, ideas. I'm so desperately trying to find the path that leads to my passion, my true calling. And in this chaotic search, I'm forgetting to soak in the good that my life already has to offer. I've been in this house for over a year and I don't feel connected to it. Sure, I'm relaxed here. I'm comfortable. But I feel as though I'm just passing through. We talk about making improvements and selling this house so often, that I think I've just written it off and forced myself not to get attached. And what I'm realizing now, is that I'm furiously searching for connection to my life, my current one. Like a puppy staring into a mirror, scratching wildly with both paws at the puppy on the other side - begging for its attention.

The other night, I sat in a room we seldom use in this house. The one with the refinished floors and oversized, loungy couch. The one with the gray walls I absolutely adore. I sat there for about two hours. The house was completely dark except for the lamp on the end table, which gave off the warmest, most relaxing glow that draped over those beautiful gray walls. The dog was snoozing on one side of the couch, her tail sprawled across my ankles as I sat there, staring at the glowing walls. My eyes flickered from the floors, to the coat closet, to the decorative lantern in the corner. I analyzed the painting of the Peony on the wall and second-guessed my placement of the candle holders on the floor.

And this whole time, in the back of my mind, I was thinking how much I wanted to just love this house. And thinking how easily I could. And that I want to spend more time sitting in this room, just because. And I thought of a few more things we could do in here, some DIY projects came to mind and I started planning them out in my head. I thought about how I wished I had more time to spend here, in this house, living my life and connecting with myself. I thought for the millionth time about how I work terrible hours, starting late and getting out late, and how it ruins my whole day.

Then I started thinking about how I make a lot of plans, fill our weekends with to-do lists and social events. I make a point to be there for friends' birthdays and family get-togethers. And Anthony is the same way. Our "free time" is often committed a month and a half in advance to something or someone. I have and always will consider those commitments important. They serve our ability to stay connected to friends and family. Allow us to be there for special moments, milestones, celebrations and surprises. They provide us with stories and memories that we cherish and wouldn't trade for the world.

I need that. I need my friends. I need my family. I need that connection, the comfort of being around people who know you...the ease of conversation. It's great to escape the day-to-day and live in someone else's world while they tell you a funny story from last week or their big plans for an upcoming trip. These moments bring us closer together, give us the ability to understand each other a little more and teach us how to be there for each other when we need it most.

I feel more connected than ever to the people in my life. I love it, and I don't ever want it to change.

But I'm deeply missing that connection with myself. I know that I'm missing something. Purpose, I think. Perhaps I'm lacking purpose in my life.

I've had purpose before. For a very, very long time...my goal was to complete my degree. And the things I did were purposely selected to help me achieve that goal. I landed my first position with the company I still work for today, so that I could make money and afford classes. And I scheduled classes around work, and traded schedules with coworkers in order to take the classes I needed. I fought with the administration at two universities in order to complete my goal in a non-traditional capacity. I discovered and utilized my company's tuition reimbursement program to take classes without incurring additional student debt. It was hard, but it was my focal point - my purpose.

When I first took my job, it was a means to an end. It started off terrible. I had no orientation, I got thrown into an office at the end of the hall with the locked union-staff personnel file cabinets. And someone made me a sign for my door..which read "Shelby Jackson and File Room." My boss wasn't even in town when they interviewed and hired me. Someone else handled it while he was on vacation, and when he returned, there I was. And he didn't even know what to do with me. He gave me reading material that made absolutely no sense to me, and left me to my devices for almost two weeks before I really began to learn anything. Those file cabinets bore witness to some lonely and lost tears those first few months. I stayed because I needed a job. I needed a job to finish school and make good on promises I made to my family. And so, I stayed.

But in time, I sought out opportunity there. I latched on to every piece of information I could find. And closing in on my last semester of school, all the fighting and clawing behind me, my focus switched gears. I had a career plan. I was going to learn and keep learning. And when I got my degree, I'd see if it would help me advance. And then I got a promotion and then another. I was focused on learning and growing as much as I could. In a steadily downward-sloping industry (newspaper publishing), everyone fears for their job. You just never know what's around the corner...cost cutting...reorganizations...downsizing. But I was determined to make myself indispensable. I kept expanding my reach, asking questions, lending a hand, joining committees, meeting new people. I had purpose, then. I vowed to myself that no matter what, if I got fired or if I left on my own accord or if I stayed another 5 years...I would know that I got the most out of my time here and would have something to show for it. Several promotions later, I'm still here. I'm in a great position earning a competitive wage. And now I'm the one doing the training. And I'll never stick anyone in an end office with the file cabinets and let them cry.

Also during this time, nearing the end of my degree requirements, I wanted to buy a house. I had been saving money for some time, but I really started focusing on saving as much as I could. I doubled down. I needed a down payment. And after graduation...after I had the money, I started searching. And that process went so fast. The first offer we made was accepted within two hours and the rest was history. We moved in shortly after and poured ourselves into painting and renovating and decorating and buying furniture. We were proud, so proud. I had purpose then.

But things have trailed off. We still have projects we are working on in the house. We still have plans for next season, next paycheck, next weekend. I think I'm reaching the max of what I can grow into at work, but I'm still working to define my management style. I'm still learning my techniques. But it's a slow process. One that only time and experience will help me with.

So what now? Where to next? I think that's where I'm struggling. I guess I thought I'd just be able to enjoy life, after all that. Got the degree, got the house, got the promotions. But I'm lost. I'm not connected to me. I've tried new things and generally enjoyed them all. I have craft drawers full of supplies. I have an entire box of novels to read. I have a backyard with trees and squirrels and bunnies that I could sit and relax in. I have that lovely room with the gray walls. I have everything I was working so hard for. Yet, I've never felt more empty or directionless.

I signed up for a six-week photography class in my community. Taking photos makes me happy, maybe if I learn and practice enough, I could make it a side-gig. Perhaps it could become something more than that some day. I started a furniture painting project for my new room. I really enjoy the crafting and the reading. But I don't have a great place in the house to do those things. That room with the gray walls is central to the noise in the house and the TV in the other room. I need a space that is just mine, where I can curl up and read or write more to clear my head. A spot with a desk for my laptop or my next DIY project. I want to love this house, and I want to love the life I live within its walls.

I need to make a conscious effort to be present today. Because the future is only a dream, a vision. It's always ahead of you - days, weeks, years away. And the only way to arrive at the future of your dreams, is to start living it - today.

I have many ideas floating around in my head about what my future should look like. I have yet to decide which path to follow. But while I'm still weighing the options, I'd really like to enjoy where I'm at. Focus on the current me. Figure out what makes current me whole. Maybe once I figure that out, the fog will thin and slip through the space under the front door. Perhaps it will journey through the trees, winding and twisting, picking up speed. Perhaps it will flip and twirl, and gently graze the faces of children playing outside, causing their hair to dance and their eyes to turn to the sky. Perhaps that dense fog turned cool, crisp breeze will finally enjoy its own freedom, riding the waves and carving the sides of mountains as it finds it's own path into the future.

Future.

Monday, December 11, 2017

Greek Symbols

     I've been busy. Really busy. You know how life kind of takes over, sometimes. Days are long, sleeps are short, weeks are full and downtime is scarce. But my heart, has never been more at peace. This week wraps up my second to last semester of college. I turned in a ten page term-paper tonight (and yes, I somehow still found the desire to write this blog), I've got about 6 hours worth of economics problems to get through by tomorrow night and have a huge exam on Wednesday. Naturally, I'm dreading both of those things.
     But there's an excitement buzzing beneath the cover of my textbook. A little sigh of relief in the zipper of my school bag. It's been a hard semester. There are more inky teardrop stains in my spiral notebook than I'd like to admit, and I certainly could have set aside more of my time here and there instead of procrastinating til last minute on my assignments. But I feel so accomplished.
    I haven't taken a math class since 2009. One of my classes this semester, however, was a 5000 level economics course which was dusted with calculus, statistics and Greek symbols. I had to re-teach myself how to multiply fractions (yes, I forgot) and had to reach out to my math-whiz cousin so he could teach me about derivatives. And I'll be honest, two weeks into the class I had already wanted to call it quits. Yet here I am, 16 weeks later taking my final steps into the light at the end of the supply and demand tunnel.
     But I'm not here to pat myself on the back. Really, I could have given a lot more this semester. I'm just so ready to be done with school.
     I am here, however, to basque in some belonging, and treasure a little bit of happy and a whole lotta love. Like I said, it's been a tough semester. And I've had to set some things in my personal life aside in order to get through it. I left my poor hunny feeling a little lost at times, and had to take a break from my monthly get-togethers with my girlfriends for a while. But I'll tell you what, I've never felt more connected to the people in my life. We may not have been able to see each other as frequently, lately, but we sure have made a point to show up, wholeheartedly, for some pretty important moments...the ones that matter.
     We all have points in our lives when we're working towards a goal and have to disappear for a bit. We all have seasons that are spontaneous, and seasons that are carefully calculated and planned. And despite the individual lives we all lead and the varied goals we all seek to fulfill...we all have a designated spot on our list of priorities for each other. That spot might shift around, it might require some fine-tuning...but it's always there...and it's always tended to in one way or another. My call is always returned. My question is always answered. My feelings are always cared for. And our little friend family just keeps growing stronger....even as our own lives grow busier.
     This morning I attended our second annual Christmas brunch with my five best friends. Every single one of us was there, gift in one hand, mimosa in the other, and the biggest smiles on our faces. I could have spent an entire day sitting in that over-sized booth as our infectious laughter coated every wall of the restaurant. The waiters and patrons zipped past us in every direction, like blurs rushing past the window of a moving car...the six of us in hyper-color focus, as if time was standing still within the confines of our clay-colored booth. Time really does stand still when we are together. I love that about us.


     And just last week we were celebrating Anthony at our favorite little spot over drinks with family and friends...open invitation to whomever could make it out. We were overwhelmed with the turnout, showered with love and support, and surrounded with our favorite people. Anthony and I have been together just shy of three years, and I can't even put into words how much it meant to me to have the most important people in my life show up to support him...especially from such distances. My heart was made a little fuller, that day.
     Another one of my girlfriends is getting married, and yet again, I get to stand next to each one of my best friends on that day. That's a real blessing, right there.
     As this semester comes to a close, and I reflect on what I've gained, I can't help but brush right past my new-found ability of turning a Greek symbol into 100th of a whole number, and instead collect the love captured in moments with my friends and family over the past couple of months.
     I've never been so sure of what my life is made of. I'm not where I thought I'd be by now, but the people standing next to me are the exact people I always dreamed would be there. I've got a man who supports me, challenges me to be better in the best ways possible, and loves me through all my flaws. I've got a group of girlfriends compiled of the world's most balanced personalities, strengths and characters. I've got a big ol' family I wouldn't trade for anything. And pretty soon I'll have an education that I can take with me anywhere. I'm curious to see just how far I can make it travel.





     I'm not where I thought I'd be by now...
  But I sure am happy.

Friday, April 28, 2017

Anger is Never Without a Reason, But Seldom with a Good One

Your ears feel hot. The sounds around you are muffled because the pressure in your ears is so great. And to be honest, you're not paying attention to anything going on around you, anyway. You are just staring...at this tiny speck on the floor. Actually, you realize you're glaring at it with such intensity it might just vaporize into thin air, leaving only a small puff of steam behind to tell the story. Your teeth are clenched and the muscles in your back become stiff. A sense of time escapes you, as if you are in this solitary world made up just you, and this speck. You still haven't lost your concentration, not even to blink. You feel your heart pounding. It's not necessarily racing, but the strength of each heartbeat is so great you can feel it in your throat, gripping your ability to breath. As you sentence the speck on the floor to damnation, you are contemplating your next actions. In this solitary world you currently inhabit, with its thick walls of raw emotion, your list of options is limitless. Your mind rolls, easily, from one thought to the next, contemplating the best options and swapping words you could say for ones with greater potency.  You will be heard, and it will be loud and unmistakable. You have been wronged, but you will make it right.

Ever been here? In a moment of sheer anger?
Ever acted on it? Wished you would have acted with more grace? A bit more finesse?
Ever wished you had taken more time to relieve the pressure behind your ears before reacting?

Anger is a natural human emotion and it can be provoked in so many different ways. You can feel it at different levels, under different circumstances and towards different ideas or people. It can be a slow progression or it can strike in a single instant. It can take you by surprise or you may have been prepared for it. Everyone has experienced anger. It is okay to feel anger. 

Acting on anger, however, can be very dangerous. Often, you have not given yourself enough time to step back and truly weigh your options...and the consequences that follow. More times than not, the consequences of actions committed in anger are not analyzed properly...and sometimes not at all. What you feel is a great way to get your point across can have a million other hidden statements, subtle connotations that twist your initial objective and turn it into something much greater and far more damaging. Or, your actions could completely miss the target and, instead, send your wrath screaming in a different direction, spewing its ammunition onto unsuspecting passersby. 

Anger is powerful, and it can snowball and domino and obliterate. Standing up for yourself and protecting those you love is equally as powerful, but it only has meaning when it is done with purpose and carried out with grace. If others are wronged in the process, who otherwise had no part in it, it was all for not. The pain, then, is no better off than where it began; your cause no better suited than had you left it alone; and the damage no less than how it all started.

Be stronger than your worst days; act with intent and thoughtful purpose in lieu of reacting on raw, unguided emotion. Be aware of the consequences of your actions today, and be honest with yourself years down the road if find you regret them. For there will only be you to blame. 



To my dear friends and family, and the stranger on the street - when moments of anger find you, remember to seek out a clear mind and a full understanding before you make a decision. Consider the consequences and what you might think of yourself in an hour, a day, a year down the road. Don't let the actions of others force you down a road you wouldn't, otherwise, wish to take. Let the lessons learned from others guide you and do not allow anger or fear to cloud your judgement or stand in the way of allowing your best qualities to shine. Love, always.

Thursday, December 29, 2016

Turn on the Light

I've had an itch, for weeks now, to write. But simply put, I haven't felt inspired by anything lately. Life has just been chugging along, with me in tow, and nothing has even attempted to strike the match that lights my creativity. I've been painfully aware of this dull, lack-luster span of time and painfully attuned to the fact that I'm not feeling inspired...by anything.

Am I just not paying attention? Am I letting life slip on by, mindlessly? Have I been too busy to notice the things going on around me? Too consumed by my own schedule that I'm not giving enough of myself to others, to life, to relationships, to the faces of strangers? Or has my jam-packed agenda worn me out, that my soul doesn't have the energy to take in anything else?

I have a full time job, during which I also balance my time as a member of our culture committee. I'm taking classes. I nanny a 5 year old and a 16 month old three to five times a week. And whenever our schedules allow, I squeeze in some time with my boyfriend who works nights.

While I'm busy doing all that, life is still happening. The days on the calendar change without my consent, hours pass like minutes and before I know it, another month has gone by. The holidays plowed in like a high-speed train. In my "down-time" I was shopping and wrapping gifts. Making my list and checking it twice, three times, four times, oh hell. And there are how many holiday parties we had to make it to this year? 5? 6?

I miss my friends. I miss having time to do whatever I want, and a care-free spirit that allows me to do whatever I want. Now I'm budget conscious, relationship conscious, energy conscious, act-like-an-adult conscious. I'm stuck in this in-between where I want to be settled. I want to have a day a week dedicated to cleaning a house I own. I want to be able to come home from work and read a book on the couch after eating a home-cooked meal. Yet, here I am, not making enough money to buy a home, still taking classes and babysitting for cash on the side just to help things along.

I'm making strides every day towards what I want, but I'm not there. And I guess I'm just not feeling excited about where I'm at. I should be, really. In 2014 when I left school and moved home, I was failing at literally everything. I was flunking out of college, I was eating the worst possible "food" known to human-kind, I had shut everyone out and locked myself in. I couldn't pay my bills or rent. I was completely lost.  But now, I've got a path that I seem to be travelling fairly well. I've turned my finances around, I'm organized, I've mended my relationships with those I love, I have a steady job that pays descent, I am in a very loving, supportive relationship with my boyfriend and I just received an A- in my last class! Things are good, wouldn't you say?

I want to live a life that is full of "happy." I want to feel inspired by those around me and by myself. I want to see beauty in every day. I'm not saying I need to be in utter awe of my life, at every second. I don't need fireworks every morning and dancing monkeys every afternoon. But I want to feel a sense of belonging, I want to smile just because, and I want to know that I am working towards something bigger than managing 24 hours on repeat. I want the bits between "Once upon a time..." and "happily ever after" to have meaning.

With all that being said, my resolution for 2017 can only be this...to focus on the meaning behind all that I do, rather than just how to do it efficiently. I saw something on Facebook that really stood out to me, recently. Start on January 1 with an empty jar. Each day, write, on a piece of paper, something good that happened to you that day and add it to the jar. At the end of the year, you can dump out the contents of the jar and read through them, reminiscing on what a fantastic year you've had.

It can be so easy to get caught up in clock-watching and to-do-lists. We can so easily miss a very happy moment, or dismiss a kind gesture without even knowing. In 2017 I want to be more present, more alert, more open and accepting so that I might not ever find myself in a place where I am not inspired, challenged, or full of thought, ever again.

"Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light"