In the Interest of Being Capable

February 26, 2018 by

circa October 2016

I brought in the groceries. There weren’t that many. I set about putting the goods where they go…the toothpaste in the bathroom, the salad in the fridge, the almonds in the pantry.

I am starving. I make my dinner. It’s a real dinner. I pan sear a beef medallion and make a salad bed for it. Gorgonzola cheese! One of my favorites! While I am corking the bottle and dressing the salad, I kind of feel it. But I am really hungry so I just keep moving on.

Snapchat the plate so he can see. Silly, I know. But we are silly. And I want him to know. Know that I can take care of him still. That all these years separated and all the ways we have changed…that hasn’t changed. I wish I could take care of him. I know he’s had a long day. I know all his days are long. He works so hard and the hours are rough. He loves it, I know. It’s important, I know. But I also know he can’t get into the gym. Or count on a decent meal. A man that lives like that needs his woman around, I think to myself. And then I feel it again.

I finish my salad. It was everything I hoped it would be. Belly full, I begin putting the kitchen in order. And a thought occurred to me; I haven’t lived by myself since I was 17 years old. Now here I was, 23 years later, living by myself for half of the time.

Today, February 26, 2018

Once again I have encountered an unfinished thought. I am pretty sure I know where I was going with this one. I actually sat here for a minute and contemplated what to do with it. I could finish it. I think the next thoughts were going to be introspective ones about freedom and independence. About how a woman needed to be on her own to be worthy of being a valuable help meet. About how if I couldn’t be alone, if I couldn’t stand my own company, who was I really? I remember that night. I even remember that salad. I remember feeling very full of myself as I thought I had done what my therapist said was highly improbable. I felt like I had leap frogged all the processes required to take a shattered, unrecognizable puzzle and rebuild a new, beautiful, real picture.

I could just finish it. I am pretty sure I can tap back into the remnants of that emotion well enough to finish the thought. Except I know what happened next.

I know that the first time we were able to spend real time together I slept more than I was awake. This would have been super awkward except I had lots of time alone in our apartment while he worked long hours. He was intensely aware that sleep was not something I had done in any real earnest for a while. Those two factors allotted for plenty of appropriate and encouraged naps.

I know that I was given immediate and carte blanche freedom, encouragement even, to do whatever it is I wanted to do. I know that freedom, while exciting, triggered more fear than I can describe here.

I know that I had a choice to make in those early days. I could keep him at arms length, keep my life at arms length, because that was the smart and responsible thing to do. Or I could just sell out to the journey, release all the pessimism, believe until I had a no bullshit reason not to, and go all in. I chose to go all in. He has always been the one. I couldn’t, never could, relate to him casually. I know that if the rational side of my brain had even attempted the distance strategy, the real side of my heart would have broken my own arm to close the gap.

I know that choice was met with a call and a raise. If any woman had the opportunity to be loved half as much as I was, as I am, she was, is, a blessed woman indeed. This took me beyond fear. I was terrified.

I had already seen the broken puzzle. I knew what caused it, I knew what it would take to put it back together, and I had no idea what the picture would look like when it was finished. In truth, I still don’t know. I have a much better idea now and the possibilities are narrowing, but there are still unknowns. And if I don’t know, he can’t possibly. What if my puzzle looks different than what he expected, different than the nearly two decade “Ode to Ape” he has constructed in his mind? How do you commit to love forever, to continue a love he insists has lasted for him in the singular and in the forever?

I don’t know. I do know that I have been afraid of that for a long time. Today I decided that I have been afraid long enough. Holding on to a fear because of the unknown is the exact same thing as borrowing trouble. It is worry. It is lack of confidence. I know that I know this because I have said it before.

The future is the largest producer of anxiety. This is so unfortunate because the future holds so much hope and promise! The present is where our potential works and the future is the enjoyment of that success! To sabotage that and to steal that from ourselves is all we achieve when we worry. Our strength lives in certainty, assurance, and joy. That’s a much better basket of tricks than worry.

– Turn Around Tuesday, January 2015

So instead of tapping back into the old, I am going to finish the thought by addressing the better thing that I know. I still have two choices. I can hold on to the crushing fear that makes the simple act of fixing or not being able to fix him dinner spin into a whirlwind. Or I can acknowledge that while our story may be different, the uncertainty in tomorrow is true for everyone. I am not special in that regard. Holding on to the thing and making it into some super possibility of utter universal devastation isn’t only ridiculous, it is highly improbable.

I spent a lot of time that night, and quite a few nights since, considering whether or not this 20 year older version of me was the best that the 20 year older version of him could do. It also occurs to me all the million different ways I ask this question of myself concerning a variety of different subjects. Today, I acknowledge the question on its face is so asinine there is no answer for it. The fear that propels the asking has to be let go. That really is the only choice.

Filed Under: Chrysalis Tagged With: , ,

Unstuck, Unwasted, Unbroken

February 18, 2018 by

I snuggled into bed last night with the understanding that I was, quite possibly, the happiest woman on the planet. His arm heavy across my body, skin warm against my back, breath soft and slow on my shoulder. There is no place I feel safer or more loved. I click through the happy of the day. The kids – all six of them – are still thrilled with simple boxes of chocolate. We all made it to Dairy Queen Wednesday. My teenagers still like it when I play Xbox with them. My beloved wrote me a poem for Valentine’s Day. Even the residual hormonal yuck that is “winter” and the hot flash that tried to take me out were a beautiful reminder that I am alive, balanced, and not pregnant. (Seriously, we have six children, I am holding out – in NO hurry – for grands at this point)

My writing for the day crossed my mind and I was satisfied with it. It feels good to work out some of that brain stuff in a way that feels both real and responsible enough to allow public consumption. It did occur to me, however, that maybe I give the wrong impression. I come back to the details of the work so often that maybe I don’t give play to the big picture in my writing. I know the big picture is well served in the other places I am. My happy is no secret. But in the pages, is it as documented as the other stuff? I don’t think so. I woke up this morning feeling a need to be more clear.

I live in a constant state of wonder. My brain is constantly creating open loops. Like, I wonder

  • is pink still my favorite color or has it finally become purple
  • am I being intellectually honest on my 2nd amendment position
  • should I go back to creamer in my coffee
  • could I learn more about plants
  • was Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam really that great
  • how do you discuss systematized racism in a way that allows for productive discussion
  • does he think my butt looks good in these jeans
  • how much time have I wasted
  • what’s for dinner
  • am I fucking up my kids
  • am I fucking up myself
  • did I put the clothes in the dryer
  • where are my keys

I could keep going. I just had to stop myself at the last one when I realized the next one was, “I wonder how many wonders I can wonder.” It’s a thing.

My distaste for open loops is also a thing. I spend an inordinate amount of time attempting to close the loops before they get overly distracting  or tangled up with each other. And, at the risk of offending my loops, some of them are more fun, others are more interesting, a few are actually productive, and some are just unfortunate.

The productive ones are my love/hate loops. I really love the work that comes from learning more and going deeper. I really hate the effort and the realness it sometimes requires. I understood a long time ago I am wired to want to be the best version of myself. More accurately, I would really love it if I could figure out how to become a better version of the best version of myself.  There are a bunch of reasons for this I am sure – but the root is love. The better than best version of me gives love people can receive and is able to receive the love people give. And, sitting here in this chair on this morning, I think I may have inadvertently answered the question, “How would you define success?”

The biggest challenge and opportunity in this journey is chicken/egg. I have all the wonders about myself as a person and in relationship to other people. Those wonders allow me to understand myself and relationship better. They also open me up to influences, both positive and negative. They do not guard me against mental sabotage, either from others or myself. So while I am always getting better, the tangled pieces require a lot of attention and that’s where the nouns and verbs tend to be the most helpful.

So you’ll see the messy that is the byproduct of my wonders regularly. But let me be clear so that there is no mistake made – either by you or me. While the appearance may sometime suggest otherwise, I am unstuck, unwasted, and unbroken. I am not shackled by past transgressions or perceptions.

For a minute I thought I was stuck. I had the toxic on loop (or so it seemed). I talked about it a lot with my closest people. I journaled it regularly. I sat alone with the hum on many occasions. In honesty, I got to the point where I realized I was dangerously close to wallowing, “picking scabs” if you will. Pushing the bruises so they stayed at the surface instead of allowing the wounds to heal. But I was not stuck. I was healing. And healing takes the time it takes and the path that it will. That is the opposite of stuck. That is progress.

The trick is to be mindful of the time it takes. The balance there is delicate. You can’t rush it, you have to give it the room it needs to do what it does. I did not find myself in the place where I had no clue about myself overnight. I was not going to figure the pieces out overnight either. To drift took time. To come back will take time. But time is finite and limited. Worse, we don’t know what those limits are. We are all just guessing at the time we have. To allow time to pass unfettered is to resign your life to the whims of chance. I just can’t. I have already lost a huge amount of time and watched myself allow waste to consume. But waste is redeemable. I understand the process of upcycling.

And I was out for a while. I yolo’ed a bit (I really dislike that term but it so frustratingly fitting in this concept), I ran a while, I hid for a minute, I bloomed slightly, I tangoed mostly. I can see how an outsider would consider those thing indicative of a broken person. I myself had moments of feeling brokenness. But I have come to understand the bones are solid even when the cosmetics look to need a little work. Dislocated and strained maybe. But not broken. Strength in our bodies comes from hard work, moving more than you thought you could, enduring more than is comfortable. When that workout is done, you may be sweaty, sore, and tired – but not broken.

So I am going to continue writing my wonders. Some may seem more painful than others, but they are not wonders  independent of other wonders. All the wonders touch each other in some way. It’s like “Seven Degrees of Kevin Bacon” for the thoughts of the many. I wouldn’t trade any of them. I just need to acknowledge that I often have more than I have the opportunity at times to address here.

Started 2/15/2018
Completed 2/18/2018

Filed Under: The Thinking Chair Tagged With: ,

Happy Thanksgiving

November 23, 2017 by

I have messed around for about an hour and a half trying to decide if I was ever going to touch these keys this morning. There is too much personal emotion to even think about my book. It is Thanksgiving, so while personal emotion is appropriate, I don’t feel like getting too heavy is appropriate. That same Thanksgiving gratitude is bringing me back to matters of the heart. I start to wonder at what point do I really need to write about something else.

I guess the answer to that question is simply when I don’t feel like writing about it anymore. In truth, that is one of the beautiful things about writing for yourself. You can really write about whatever it is you want. The downside of being overly concerned about what people think is that, in order to write about whatever you want, you have to spend two paragraphs explaining yourself before you just say…

Can I tell you how Thankful I am right now? My eyes popped open like a kid on Christmas morning. This IS my Christmas morning. It is Thanksgiving Day. It is my favorite holiday of the year.

The smell in the condo is perfect. Proof that the turkey is in the oven makes it all the way back to our room. It’s early, but there is no way I am getting back to sleep; not this morning.

But I do lay there for a minute. There is no reason to rush. He is so warm when he sleeps, the closeness is comforting. The ease in his breathing, the safety his form provides, the reach for me even when he is dreaming; there is no desire to move from this place quite yet.

The stark contrast to the Thanksgiving morning  a year ago is not lost on me. The thought feels a bit disloyal. That’s strange, I know. That is one of those feelings that I always get, right or not, when a condition of this life overcomes a condition of my life from ago. Like it is unfair to ask this life to make up for the other. But it happens and there’s no stopping it. I have come to the conclusion that the attempt would actually be worse. While it is true that it is not the responsibility of the others in the present to repair the others of the past, it is their gift.

Gift is so much different than responsibility. I have no expectation or right to a gift. The gift giver has no requirement or obligation to tender it. But, because love does what it does, it is there. Just what I needed, just for me, just because. And I have always thought it bad form to refuse a gift.

It is with this perspective that I choose to frame this morning’s recollection in tandem with the comfort of my present. The recollection is painful. It was the only point in the whole of the scorched earth that I cried.

I awoke Thanksgiving morning last year with a lot to be thankful for. There was a freedom I had never experienced before. The burdens that I had carried for so long, the eggshells I navigated were gone. My life was mine again, even if I wasn’t yet quite sure how to live it – it belonged to me. I had found what I hoped was going to prove to be unconditional forever love in the most unlikely and unexpected place. I had gratitude, I had love, I had hope.

I awoke Thanksgiving morning last year to an empty, quiet, smelless house without any prospect to the contrary. Preparation had not been needed. Cooking was not my responsibility. There were no children eagerly awaiting their next helpful task. No timers, no oven schedules, no setting up, no thawing out. Just me, in a house. I sat in my thinking chair and sobbed.

As the tears came to an end and I began to sort through the hurt, there was still gratitude. I was grateful that I still had the ability to be soft (I had begun to wonder). I was grateful for the prospects I did have. Although it was not the Thanksgiving I had come accustomed to (three days of cooking, mimosas, full house), there was a beautiful day planned with family, a road trip, a reunion, and the promise of connection. There was a lot to be Thankful for. Even though the heartbreak over what was no more was real, the gift of what I had and what was to come was worth it.

This Thanksgiving season, we have been on holiday since Friday. The children have had a excellent time taking in all the uncrowded, off season wonders to be had in Gulf Shores. They have been a delight and are delighted in. There are always smells and sounds and preparation.

This Thanksgiving morning I awoke to a full, anticipated, aromatic condo with all the promise that those things suggest on this, my favorite holiday. In truth, this is still a bit different from the Thanksgivings I have carved for myself in the life from ago. And, in the spirit of being completely open and transparent, there is a part of me that mourns just a bit for the rhythm that is familiar.

I have no guilt in that feeling. There is an understanding I have that I am not sure I am skilled enough to convey here. There are pieces of happy that I created in the life from ago. They were the things I clung to waiting for the rest to sort itself. I am appreciative of the work I was able to do there, the memories I was able to make. To miss those things that, not unlike a child’s security blanket, gave me comfort and normalcy, does not seem unreasonable to me. Missing the baby does not require the missing of the bathwater. That’s nearly terrible but I am at a loss to explain it any better. At this moment, I don’t feel compelled to.

This Thanksgiving morning I have prepped and planned. My heart is full. My children are asleep. My thoughts are sorted. On this, my favorite holiday of the year, I wish you and yours all the happiness in the world. I am going to go back and enjoy a few more snuggles from my happiness and steal a second Thanksgiving awakening with smells and anticipation. May your turkey be perfect, your mimosas mixed right, the pies free of calories. From our family to yours.

Filed Under: Chrysalis Tagged With: ,

Living in the Thinking Chair

June 20, 2016 by

I live in my Thinking Chair.

I don’t mean, obviously, that I am confined to or spend all my time in said chair. 

So, I just gooogled “live” in preparation for my next sentence after the crossed out one above. Funny how concentrating on semantics will lead you to a really neat insight. This. This is why I love to write.

 

I remain alive in my Thinking Chair.

Nearly my whole life I have desired a space, a corner, a chair. It would be only mine and it would be a safe haven for those things that restored my heart. It would be uniquely me with purpose and obvious function and feeling. It would remind me of those great movie scenes where the self assured, self confident, successful woman wore her too large, off the shoulder knit sweater that still made her look amazing and not frumpy, with her piping hot coffee sending steam in front of a beautiful non makeuped face and impossibly put together bed head, as she settled in to her well deserved Sunday morning in her space. I don’t even know if that’s a real movie or one I created. I’ve played it so often in my head it’s hard to tell at this point.

In this, the last year of my 30’s, I got my space. I got my Thinking Chair.

The search for the chair started out as a hunt for a reading chair. I wanted something that would fit nicely in the empty bedroom corner and was designed for long periods of comfortable book snuggles. I had a decent budget. So I started sitting in chairs. My older children joined in the hunt. The giggles at mom as she sat, lounged, floundered, threw legs over chair arms in the middle of furniture stores were plenty.

“Mom, seriously?”
“She has to make sure it’s comfortable!”

I indeed did.

Let me tell you there are some beautiful reading chairs out there. Round ones that swivel. Super soft ones that recline. Convertible ones that turn into a bed. And I loved many of them.

But I couldn’t pick one. While they were all within the budget, they were the whole budget. And while they were all beautiful, they all felt manufactured. It’s weird trying to describe this inanimate object as lacking because I felt it had no heart, but that’s exactly what was going on. I couldn’t find a chair with personality. I have a hard time spending time with people without personality. I guess that spills over into my chair preference as well.

Declaring the search over for the day, we stopped by the mall on the way home so the girls could get some craft stuff. I rarely find myself at the mall, so I had no idea that a large, second hand shop had opened up there.

And there it was. My chair.

I sat, laid, lounged, curled. I asked the associate if it was new as it looked like it had never been touched. She said technically no as it had come from an estate sale. However, I pulled cushions and unzipped covers; the thing looked brand new.

“Momma! It’s the Thinking Chair!”

 

Madison was absolutely right although I had not noticed originally. But her childhood nostalgia registered the similarity to the famous Blue’s Clues staple immediately.

And now, the Thinking Chair helps me put my clues together.

In this space I have my space. Just sitting in it suggests that I have made time for my soul and that is good. Being here gives encourages freedom from responsibility, permission to let my mind wander, safety to let my thoughts roam, comfort for the exercise of The Many.

I remain alive in my Thinking Chair.

Filed Under: The Thinking Chair Tagged With: , ,

Worry is a Lack of Confidence (AND an Energy Killer)

January 29, 2015 by

Worry does not empty tomorrow
of its sorrow.
It empties today
of its strength.
~ Corrie ten Boom (1892-1983)

I am often described as outgoing, boisterous, happy, and, yes, a bit obnoxiously perky (especially for those not as excited about the earlier hours). And those things (even the tendency towards the obnoxious) are true.

However, those who know me well will also tell you I also have a tendency to be anxious. My anxiety is sometimes warranted by actual causes for concern. More often, unfortunately, it is just a malfunction in the way I am wired; a reminder that I am, in fact, human and should remain gracious to all because we all have our challenges.

Having dealt with this for a really long time, I have gotten really good at talking myself down. I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of mindfulness based cognitive behavioral strategies or how diet and exercise really do matter. I will tell you that while it all works and I am very thankful for it, it is exhausting.

This is primarily the reason I am also know as an optimist. You will here me repeatedly say things like, “don’t borrow trouble,” “make one decision at a time,” “will will cross that bridge when we get there,” or, my favorite, “let’s step back and make sure we are looking at this right.”

Too often we create more worry by entertaining exaggerated worry over situations that actually require little if no worry at all. At which point we then proceed to escalate the situation. The situation needs attention. We worry. Worry makes us distracted, less focused, hesitant, and less capable to employ our abilities. This makes any situation worse. By the time we have worried all over it, we have created something to worry about!

Today I want to encourage you to focus on confidence. The number one reason for worry, insofar as I can tell, is lack of confidence in ones ability to handle whatever happens next. The future is the largest producer of anxiety. This is so unfortunate because the future holds so much hope and promise! The present is where our potential works and the future is the enjoyment of that success! To sabotage that and to steal that from ourselves is all we achieve when we worry. Our strength lives in certainty, assurance, and joy. That’s a much better basket of tricks than worry.

Filed Under: Turn Around Tuesday Tagged With: , ,

Turn Around Tuesday ~ Gretchen Rubin ~ Embrace What Is

September 10, 2013 by

 

Tuesday’s Thought

Embrace what is.

~from Gretchen Rubin’s The Happiness Project

A Bit of Encouragement… 

The relaunch of Turn Around Tuesday has been met with mostly welcoming arms.

Yeah, mostly.

Not everybody was glad to see it. Interestingly enough, the ratio was clearly in TAT‘s favor. And I really meant it when I said that I too have had to unsubscribe from items like this in the past and I knew it was never personal.

I still took it personal.

TAT never fails to awaken something in me. What that something is may change, but it is usually a sense of longing to fulfill a grand purpose; to be all that I was intended and have the potential to be.

That awakening can be daunting.

I immediately default to all the reasons it will fail, why I am not good enough, how I am not capable, equipped, educated, bright, dedicated, young, attractive, wealthy, mobile, flexible, strong…How I am just not enough.

I look at everything that there is not. Everything that I am not. All the things I will never be and will always be not.

In that frame of heart, the slightest bit of, “yeah, that’s not for me” rocks me at my core.

Until I remember to embrace what is.

I am again reminded that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I have a perspective that, amazingly to me, you find interesting at least enough times to let me come back once a week. While what is said is not new, it is mine, and for my heart, and evidently many others, it feels anew. And that’s just as good.

Today I want to encourage you embrace what is. So many times we are wooed into doubt and despair because of the “not.” The fact is that what “is” tends to be so absolutely abundant that we could spend a lifetime exploring all the greatness. The “not” would never be missed if we weren’t actually looking for it. While I may not be fully prepared to do all the things my heart would have me do today, I am enough to move towards those things. What I can embrace is the opportunity to recognize the journey, enjoy the process, appreciate who I am while moving towards who I am becoming. And the truth is, we are all “becoming.”

Thanks for the coffee!

 

Filed Under: Turn Around Tuesday Tagged With: , ,

I will tell you…but we have to talk about this first

June 24, 2012 by

So a really cool thing happened on my Facebook page a few days ago. I posted this

After 5 pregnancies, 4 deliveries, nearly 36 birthdays, I NEVER thought I would look this way again. Stronger than I have been since I was in my early 20’s and my washboard is back (although with some new tiger stripes). Melissa, Tanisha, Marc, Victoria, Dan, Shannon, Tony & Allison, Lisa, Sabine ~ and a host of others I can’t tag because of facebook’s stupid tag limit ~ Thanks…the hard work, attention to food and body, focus and spirit connection, is not only paying off now, but is proving to be a shift in lifestyle and not another tangle with fad diets and sporadic exercise activity. I really appreciate y’all. My future grandchildren thank you as well!!

And my friends showed out to the tune of 117 notifications!

**Are most of the comments made by folks that liked thus not actually resulting in 117 individual people? Yes. Did that change the number of notifications that came through and actual instances of encouraging moments to me? Not on your life.

Almost immediately my friends came to my side, encouraging and congratulating. The amount of happy conveyed was immeasurable. I hoped one day to return the favor. I quickly discovered how.

There are a bunch of folks out there just like me who want to make different choices. They want the results I am getting. They want me to tell my story. And I will. In a minute. This conversation has to happen first.

I hit a ton of roadblocks in my journey. I am still hitting them. I do not do everything “right”. Quite frankly, I don’t even know what that means. In all honesty, if I did, I probably still wouldn’t do it.

While researching, talking, and listening, I encountered quite a few folks who obviously did know “right.” And if it didn’t feel right to me, conflicted with a different piece of research I found, or just didn’t factor high onto my personal priority list, well, I was obviously the uneducated dolt who just didn’t care enough about my well being to hear what they had to say.

I can’t function that way. Good on folks who can. That ain’t me.

I am going to go back to last year and tell you my story thus far. Please know that I made no decisions haphazardly and my choices may or may not fit for you. That’s okay. We are all different. We all have different perspectives, resources, priorities, desires, and lives.

Here is what I can tell you.

  1. We aren’t talking real estate, so I am not trying to sell you anything 😉
  2. Every word of that Facebook post is true.
  3. I am happier than I have been in years.
  4. Your choices are not my choices and vice versa. So there is no judgement here. You do you, I do me, and maybe we can help support and encourage each other in the process.
  5. I am not a professional dietitian, nutritionist, sport medicine, whatever ~ I know some, but I ain’t one. All the information I give you will be solely anecdotal with references that stand on their own.
  6. Thanks for everything. I can use all the help I can get.
  7. In appreciation for that help, I offer all the help that I can.

So, that being said, I will post about my health choices. But you have to know, you are probably already mostly awesome 🙂 Your path may have different things in store for you. I can’t wait to hear what they are!

Filed Under: Health and Wellness Tagged With: , , ,

Hallelujah is Our Song

November 15, 2011 by

Do not abandon yourselves to despair.
We are the Easter people
and hallelujah is our song.

~Blessed Pope John Paul II

Thanksgiving is next week. I have been blessed to be around a bunch of folks who are taking this time of the year to intentionally reflect and name those things for which they are thankful. It is a glorious season.

Interestingly, this time of year also magnifies difficulties. Financial struggles become more pronounced. Estrangements and distances between family and friends become more noticeable. Fears about tomorrow and angst over yesterday occupy more of our minds.

There has been quite a bit of suffering, illness, tragedy, and death lately. I don’t know if it the hurts are increasing, if they are hitting closer to home, or I am just noticing them more.

I don’t have many words today (you are shocked I know). But even the chick who turns around Tuesdays finds some Tuesdays more heavy than others. In fact, I almost skipped today. If I myself have no words, then what is there to put out?

I can embody those things I always try to instill in others.

Today I encourage you remember the Easter, participate in the Thanksgiving, and be glad in the Advent, the new beginning that we are each afforded with every single breath. We cannot help others heal the ills that hurt our hearts if we wallow in our own. We cannot offer comfort to those afflicted if we constantly require comforting ourselves. We cannot carry on the mission of those who have gone before us if we are plagued by grief. We are human and we hurt. We are blessed and we sing the hallelujah song. Sometimes we just have to do them at the same time.

Filed Under: Turn Around Tuesday Tagged With: , ,

Sometimes You Just Gotta Put It Out There

August 5, 2011 by

So it has been a week. And when I say that, I do not mean it has been amazingly wonderful or graphically horrible. I take either one better than I can handle both – which is pretty much what this week has been. Kingda Ka ain’t got nothing on my week.

There was wonderful family time and a tragic death of a beautiful woman. My grandma called to tell me I was “spectacular” after reading my article in the local newspaper. Someone else thinks I suck for the same article. There were professional wins and losses. I had an exhaustive day getting the kids ready for school then got the four out the door the following morning – the oldest a high school freshman, the baby beginning pre-k. I am feeling a bit emotional.

I am searching deep for my inner snark, who is usually always available and on call. Smart assed humor always helps to calm the fear of releasing my inner cheese and writing the next reject show for Lifetime.

Not really feeling it. So instead, I have decided to pare down the number of Follow Fridays today, embrace the cheddar, and hope somebody has a big box of Ritz.

You make me want to be better

@PhxREguy: When I got out of the Navy and started my real estate career, I was no fish and couldn’t spell pond. It was absolute hell trying to figure out my way, my style, my money after the startling realization that real estate does not have auto payday on the 1st and the 15th with additional benefits for sick kids.

I started blogging because writing was the one thing I could do myself without having to pay anybody. Blogging wasn’t huge yet, but it was well on its way – there were already some emerging cool kids.

Jay and I, through ways I can’t remember now, crossed paths. For whatever reason, he invited me under his wing, into his circle and offered what he knew. I had nothing to offer and still cannot repay the kindness. But he is still offering that support and friendship nearly 6 years later. That kind of heart makes me want to be a better person.

@headmutha: I have never had any problem telling the world just how I feel about the Turner family. But my fascination with Rocky has always felt stalkerish. Don’t look at me like that – if you don’t know at least one real person who makes you goofy star struck, you need cooler people to know.

I realized that I feel that way because I always focus on the cool stuff Rocky does – not the person I think she is. I feel like I know her – I realize I might be all wrong and wish I knew her better. But, I am pretty good at this kind of thing (makes up for the fact that I can’t sing), so I am just gonna put it out there.

Rocky makes it easier for me to be comfortable with the crazy, twisted, wonderful scary thing that is my own skin. She seems eclectic, smart, beautiful, confident and strong. That by itself would be intimidating as hell – it’s like an airbrushed super model. And there are few things about airbrushed I can relate to.

But airbrushed she is not. She has shown herself to have fears, hurts, and questions just like, well, me. And she has demonstrated that fear, overwhelming moments, and general real life stuff is not what defines her – it is how she reacts to those things that are important.

In this display I find a renewed understanding in the idea that I am not flawed or broken – I am beautifully woman. I get back to wanting to be a better person.

@TheRealClint: I wish I could tell you that I know Clint and his family. I wish I could tell you that we connected and have communicated online for years and I am proud to now introduce you to him. I wish I could tell you all the quirky things about him that real friends know. I don’t, we haven’t, and I can’t.

Clint is currently kicking cancer’s ass. Through this epic display of strength and family unity, Clint’s friends have rallied around him. We have some of the same friends and the battle cry could not go unnoticed. What I found was inspiring.

Clint is a real guy, with a real wife, with real children with a real life or death situation. I can’t even begin to imagine. And what you will find about Clint is he is a positive, strong individual – but he ain’t no show off. He hurts and, while he doesn’t wallow, he appreciates the support. He is proud, but no so prideful that he doesn’t know when to reach out. He is strong, but he is quick to give credit to his wife, children and friends for shoring him up . He is challenged, but he refuses to be overrun.

I watch this example from a distance. I watch as instead of focusing on himself, he is quick to return that support to others that need it. I watch as he takes a completely suck situation and turns it into something that is enriching the lives of so many. I watch as what would shatter many has emboldened and solidified. Who am I when I whine about the chores, the job or the weather? I watch the love displayed from and around Clint and I want to be a better person.

I appreciate the three of you very much. Just felt like there was no better time than now to tell you. Hope everyone else will excuse the sap. I won’t apologize for it, but I understand it ain’t always comfortable. I promise I will return to the regularly scheduled program in a bit.

Filed Under: Paraphernalia Tagged With: , , ,

Twitter + RSS = Awesome #FF

July 8, 2011 by

It has been a crazy week. In fact, I just noticed that outside of Turn Around Tuesday, this Follow Friday article is the only thing I have written. I was really shook when I realized I didn’t have any new, meaningful interactions on the interwebs – mostly because I haven’t been there.

But, I have been keeping up with my RSS feed (mostly – three days back is acceptable, I think). So for this #FF, I offer you

Tweeters Who Rock Awesome Blogs

And please, before we go any further…Yes, it finally donned on me to screenshot versus taking the picture with my phone. Yes, I should have thought of sooner. Yes, I feel rather sheepish about it. But alas, you didn’t mention it either.

@TheBloggess – This beautiful slice of funny was discovered on a day I just needed a laugh. Glad Doggett, my personal joyologist, was there in a jiffy – with a Big. Metal. Chicken. Yes a big metal chicken. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard but I have laughed like that again since. Who writes this kind of stuff for an anniversary?

I’m pretty sure Victor and I just had a fight that he wasn’t even awake for. Which is a little disrespectful, in my opinion.   But fine. I forgive you, Victor. Because your bizarre (probable) feelings about octopuses and anuses are worth my patience and understanding. I love you even when you’re being ridiculous and purposely contrary.  Please try harder tomorrow when you’re awake.

@billdawers – A Savannahian must. Bill is a super smart guy with a wealth of Savannah insight. He does an amazing job aggregating some really great information and putting it into a usable, applicable and interesting  format. Interestingly enough, I don’t know Bill “IRL” which is odd…but his RSS is jam up!

@DinnerLoveStory – Encouraging families everywhere to bring dinner back to the table – at least most of the time. Jennifer and Andy accomplish the best balance of “hey, you know this is a good idea” with “yeah, it’s work – we will help make it easier and not beat you over the head with your shortcoming.” Beautiful. Awesome dinner ideas and fun ways to get the family involved in the joys of great food.

You can assume I know how busy you are and how many other things are ahead of “thaw chicken for dinner” on today’s to-do list. I will never fault you for firing up a frozen pizza when you can’t bear to turn on the stove. I will never judge you for not coughing up the extra bucks for the organic broccoli. And I will never promise you that family dinner is something that can be figured out in five easy steps!

Caffeinated OC Mommy – Sing with me! One of these things is not like the other…one of these things just isn’t the same. Yeah, as far as I know, this SoCo maternal does not have a twitter account. I don’t care – she is the STUFF! Her well thought out advice for Mommies in the summer was PRICELESS! I so want to have coffee with her…but her identity is fairly elusive…

@adaddyblog – Since I had a mommy blog, I wanted to make sure the daddies got their equal time. Not entirely true. This guy had me at the Disney Princess thing. YES!! I am not alone!! This blogging poppa ain’t even afraid to talk about stretch marks. A great read, goodhearted look at the other side of parenting.

@agentgenius – One of the smartest group of real estate minded people on the web. They amaze me on a regular basis with their depth and breadth of information. Techno gadgetry, commercial real estate, housing trends, legislative issues, hot button topics, market ideas – you name it, they got it. Oh, and the head chica is a hottie 😉

Go fill your reader, tell ’em April sent ya, and feel free to add your favorites below 🙂

 

Filed Under: Paraphernalia Tagged With: , , , ,