Labels... I've never been a fan.
Yet we all do it.
We see someone and make a snap first impression. We label people.
Tall, short, fat, skinny, athletic, lazy, smart, dull, fun, boring, young, old, wise, immature, flighty, the list goes on. At times we can even put cruel labels on people like "trash, pathetic, loser". Its sad really.
At some point in my life ...adolescence... a certain group of people labelled me "a rebel". "A bad girl".
It wasn't my parents, it wasn't my brother. it wasn't even my extended family....as far as I know anyway...lol.
It was...get ready for it...people in my church.
This is not a bash against my church family, so stay with me.... I have a point. Obviously it's not only people in the church that label people...ALL of us do it....sometimes without even realising it. It's human nature. I catch myself doing it all the time. Sometimes I have to reprimand myself even. I was raised by my parents to get to know the real person behind the label... you know... the old saying... don't judge a book by its cover. Don't just believe what people say about a person...find out for yourself.
In my journey in this life, in this world, I have had the pleasure of meeting so many unique individuals I couldn't possibly count them all. People fascinate me, they always have. I've always had an almost insatiable curiosity. I love meeting people, yet I get very uneasy at times in crowds of people I don't know, yet I will sit down with one person and get to know them. One at a time at least... I guess that what made me a good hairstylist...lol. I'm an introvert, I'm shy at times. I don't do small talk and yes I blurt out my life story to whoever wants to listen. I'm an open book. Sometimes too open. I love to hear peoples story. Everyone has one. Whether they feel they have lived a charmed or blessed life or not, everyone has extreme highs and devastating lows. We all have a story to tell. We all have triumphs that inspire others whether it is a triumph through trials or success of goals achieved. We can inspire and up lift each other.... if we choose too. There in lies the rub. We must choose.
I need to get back to my point here...
It was challenging, being so shy as a child, to make friends. I was very very very shy!! I would scope out one person that would be approachable and say hi....can I hang with you...do you want to be friends? Something along those lines and they would usually say "sure" and I'd be set. I was good at reading people from a very early age...in fact.. as long as I can remember. I was too young to know about "reputation" or "labels" , I just wanted to have one person to hang with. I'm referring to groups or clubs I'd be a part of in school or church. School was a little easier as we had a lot of kids on our block and we all went to the same school so we started school together so there really wasn't that feeling of starting school and not knowing anyone. When we became more active in the church, it was a bit more difficult.
I, myself had been involved in Sunday school and girls groups in the church as a young girl and again very shy in a group of kids that seemed to all know each other so well. Again I would watch and scope out the people that seemed approachable and say hi. I've made life long precious friends in the church. Unfortunately, at times, my parents would be called by other parents and they would say to my parents that I was hanging out with the "wrong" people. My parents would talk to me about it and ask me what my opinion was. I'd explain that all the "right" people were.....hmmmm.....not interested in allowing me to hang out with them... as I was not this way or that, I didn't wear this designer or that, I didn't live near them or whatever the reason. The so called "wrong" people I knew were accepting of who I was, didn't want to change me and I didn't understand why they would be labelled as "wrong". I would discuss with them the conversations I'd have with my friends and they were satisfied that I was a good judge of character and trusted my choices. My parents would then get to know my friends for themselves. See I had parents that led by example and had always made it known that the lines of communication were always open. It was so normal in our family I took it for granted. I knew I could always talk to someone. I was and am very blessed in family.
This apparently was not the norm...this was something I didn't understand. While no family is perfect , I had no idea of anything different. Again I loved to get to know the people that wanted to get to know me. Sometimes though, their stories tore at my very heart and soul. Yet no one seemed to care about the reasons behind the "rebels" actions. I'm not saying it justifies bad behaviour... but there is always a back story. If there is an ounce of compassion in your soul , learning a person's back story at least lends some understanding of their personality and behaviours.
I then, by senior high was labelled "rebel", whether "guilty" by association or through my own actions. '
This surprisingly was o.k. with me. The alternative. To be a follower of the masses was not ok with me. I was raised to be genuine, to accept people, to listen for God's voice. To obey and respect my parents. To treat others as I would like to be treated. I simply enjoyed people who felt the same. Yet I found it fascinating to study the "elite" from a distance. Not because I wanted to be a part of any elite group. I found it fascinating to watch these creatures that seemingly "had it all" or so they acting as though they did, and wonder how they could be so judgemental, so hurtful, so very ....hurt and sad. I felt sad for them. Just be you.... I would think to myself. "Why be a hater? " I didn't get it. Don't get me wrong though. ... As shy as I was.. I could be very outspoken and defensive.... at times having little to no tact what so ever. I was a teenager... a work in progress.... tact wasn't yet a natural thing for me.
Graduation from high school came and a new stage of life started. My hairstyling years. 30 years of deep conversations with clients and I am still fascinated with getting to know people. I feel at times somewhat of an expert at reading between the lines. I was happy and content.
then my husband and I finally were blessed with babies. I had just turned 40 when we were blessed with our first child. I had miscarried a year and half earlier. Life was beautiful! Another chapter in my life began. Two years later a second son. Life was still beautiful, so blessed, and yet something shifted. depression and anxiety came calling in full force. I didn't understand. I was so blessed. I was in the fight of and for my life.
The God I always knew yet had taken for granted was about to make a profound appearance in my life. I started down a very hard yet healing road. Having to look and walk down the past as God had shown me there was some festering wounds that I had ignored or tried to heal by myself that needed our combined attention.
I had lost myself.
The she little girl, the loving and happy little girl had grown to be a bit rebellious as a teenager, moved on to be the servant (in the best possible way) as a stylist, the wife and now the mother. I had wrapped my identity in labels.
I had been a stylist for so long. A successful stylist. It wasn't only my job, it was my passion. It encompassed everything I was. My love of styling and coloring hair. My love of studying people. My love of listening and sharing with amazing people. I had learned another thing. To always put on the brave and happy face. The stylist mask. I am happy, I am here for you.
Yet now... I was a mom. Though I had a wonderful and amazing mother, I had no idea... I had no idea that these little humans had to be trained. lol... Taught to know right from wrong. Manners, and of course to know their Creator. The overwhelming responsibility for their very souls felt too heavy!
Though they are my precious babies that I love so much and this is my greatest joy, still
I cried out to God. Show me. I can't feel you with me.
He did... and continues too.
I won't get into that whole leg of the journey but wow!! I may have had to rewalk some painful past events but I wasn't alone. My God was there... right beside me explaining everything, the whys the whats the how He can use this or that for good, because I love Him and He loves me.
I had come to realize my passion for the "rebels" of this world came from experiences in my own life. That at 3 years old when surrounded by older male cousins being told "if you do this everyone will love you" .... planted a seed. A seed that could have grown many different directions. By the grace of God I didn't have to end up doing what they wanted me to do.... but the seed was planted. Through out the years my back would get up when people used that phrase.... "Everyone will love you if..."
If you wear the right clothes, if you act the same way as them. If you do what the want and say. I must admit if I was a rebel at all, I was a rebel when someone asked me to do something I was not comfortable doing. Whether that was in school, work or church. You'll be accepted if.... These are phrases I do not understand. How about .... just get to know someone. How about just enjoy the differences and similarities in each other. God loves diversity... He went to all this trouble to make us unique.... why must we instinctually want to conform each other to our own image?? Human nature I guess... but we rob ourselves of seeing God's beauty in others...don't you think?
I am so incredibly grateful for every single "rebel" in my life. You are beautiful, you are awesome, I have learned so much from you. You are unique. You are beloved! You are true to who God made you! I have amazing people in my life...at home, at church and in my groups I volunteer with. I am grateful for you because you were chosen.
In case you are wondering. I don't blame anyone for the "uncomfortable experiences" in my life. I have learned it's the voice of the enemy that wants to steal your joy and stop you from fulfilling your purpose in life. What I have learned is there is a reason for everything. to make a decision when feeling broken.... now what?? Now, I pray, I read , and I listen for God's voice. I learn and allow God to use whatever experience for good. I do what I can for others, as small as those things are. THAT is who He made me. To be a light to others. To my family, to my friends, and to those He puts in my path. I am a child of God. I am beloved. I am His. I am a daughter, a wife, a mother , a cousin, an aunt , a friend.
Those... are the only labels that matter to me.
Wednesday, 3 February 2016
Monday, 29 June 2015
If It Feels Good Do It!! ... or should it be a question mark??
I love to talk to people.
Especially people older than myself. People that have more life experience and listen to the wisdom they have gleaned from their experiences.
I had the pleasure today, after accompanying my Dad to his chemotherapy appointment, to enjoy a bowl of soup in the hospital cafeteria and interesting conversation. He told me of his frustration with his incredibly strong body being beaten down with a treatment meant to heal him. I could see the frustration, the anger, AND the determination within his eyes and felt many of the same emotions for him. On the way home we pass Curry Barracks. A once majestic home for our military boys stationed here in Calgary. My father spent about 5 or 6 years there serving our nation with the 2nd battalion of the Queen's Own Rifles. He almost always points out as we drive by where his room was, what buildings were what and hilarious stories from the parade square. I see the joy in his eyes as I watch the memories swirl. Today we decided to turn in and take a little look around to see what we could see. A little closer look at those buildings we rush by. We decided to check out the old officer's club where my father served as a bartender for a time. There are some stories and experiences there that he would prefer to have not experienced and would like to forget but the pride in remembering the perfect precision of the gardens out back, the dining room, kitchen and various other rooms is wonderful to experience with him as he describes in beautiful detail. It is now a sales office. The young lady taking care of the reception desk was honoured and excited to have a former military man come and visit and was more than willing to let us take a look around. Much to our surprise there was a large framed photo of my Dad's own battalion on a march for a special occasion that I will have to recall when we go back and take a picture. I was excited and proud!! Another young woman took the time to show us a small door that revealed the fact that everything , every room was actually not attached to the existing building as they were not allowed to cause any damage to this once majestic building that housed our military officers. "It's really a building within a building! " she said. As I peered in , there was enough room to see what the walls used to look like... the detail in carpentry .. the old windows. Old covered by new. Even the floors had to be built on a platform. I prefer the old. Though the new was very nice. There is something about the craftsmanship of the original building that you just can't touch. I listened intently to the stories and memories my Dad chose to share and almost felt like I was there. We drove around the base and he pointed out all the rooms he stayed in and as he talked I saw his mood lift. At least for a time.
Tonight as I started to replay the day in my mind. I remembered his eyes. How they change depending on what he talks about or how he is feeling.
I was raised to look at people in the eye when they talk to you. That was reinforced during a wonderful 30 year career as a hairstylist. When people talk to you and you don't look them in the eye, there is so much that is missed. Words are words. Sometimes filled with wisdom. Sometimes there are just not words invented yet for the feeling felt deep down that are revealed in a person's eyes.
It got me to thinking of the mind, body, soul connection.
What is it that connects the soul and the body? I mean, obviously our body is the vessel for the soul. The soul being our true self. We are all going to leave this planet some day and it's the vessel that gets left behind. That vessel will no longer breath, think, feel, but the soul will. How is it that whether we feel joy or sorrow that moves our very soul, we feel it physically? We feel a very real pain in our hearts. Nausea in our stomachs, we feel as if our heart will explode with such excitement we may physically explode!
There are many articles to "google" about the scientific connection of emotion and it's physical effect or manifestation through our involuntary physical actions. Meaning tears, smiles, laughs etc. I urge you to google it if it interests you. What stuck out to me in a variety of articles was, in "Jacquie terms", various emotions... like tearing up, crying, is the bodies way of letting you know there is something that needs to be addressed. Feelings of overwhelming sadness, frustration, anger or even joy are basically needing to be expressed. As if our physical body... the vessel... is just to small to contain the feelings. They need to be released. Some say it's the bodies way of purging toxicity. That was something I found intriguing! Negative emotions being toxic to the physical self and needing to be purged.
I could go on for quite a while with that train of thought and I may do that yet, with a particular writing project I'm working on, but the point I'm getting to is I worry. I worry when I see that blankness in someones eyes. When they start to talk and because whatever they are feeling is starting to "leak out of their eyes" I can almost see the light behind their eyes go out... like they shut the curtain. A pretty good analogy I figure as I believe the eyes are truly the windows to the soul. Sometimes it's a curtain going up and sometimes it's a brick wall.... whatever the barrier... the bigger it is the bigger the emotion they are trying to push down. I worry because those feelings, those memories, those thoughts are going to be released some how. So just as physical pain is our bodies way of letting us know "something needs to be addressed"... so are our tears, our anger, our shouting. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not all hung up on the negative emotions.. nor am I talking about my father with any of this. I've seen it in countless eyes of the cherished clients, friends and family I share life with. At times it gets so overwhelming to see and feel what's going on behind someones eyes I just need to turn away. Though I find myself excitedly peering at the "windows" when someone is feeling intense joy. At the birth of a child, a wedding, a graduation or any exciting event or news that is making them physically jump up and down with profound feeling of happiness as if they have to expend that energy or they may actually explode! I find myself clapping or laughing that big loud laugh I'm notorious for, watching and physically feeling their joy... smiling like an idiot after being covered in an explosion of freaky happy energy!
I just find it fascinating to observe. To listen. To learn. To watch. Now that actually may sound creepy, but I mean when I'm talking with people I know or have just met... just wanted to clarify.
There is so much more to learn about someone other than the words that come out of there mouths. The emotions behind the eyes. The body language they involuntarily show is where the truth lay. That brings to the original thought I had this evening. I find it interesting that we can say what ever we want to convince someone of what we want them to believe about ourselves... like "I'm fine" ... "I'm good", but our physical mannerisms our involuntary body language will always give up the truth of our emotions.
What about the physical self though? A common catch phrase in the church is "fleshly desires" and I won't get into the whole thought process I have on that... I'm keeping that for "the book"...you'll just have to wait... lol... There's a whole other can of worms... If the flesh is weak but the soul is willing... what the heck does that mean. Can the flesh actually want something the soul knows is wrong or bad for us. Or do we just have these desires somewhere within us, to do , to try , to experience, to say , to react, whether those experiences or desires are "good" for us or not, the world says , if it feels good do it! This seems to be the "norm" in our society. If it feels good do it! No regret , no worries, do what "comes naturally"... how bad can that be. Then how come when we do "what comes naturally" we realise it was a bad decision. If its natural... how can it be bad? How can there , at times, be serious consequences for the choices we make to do what comes naturally. To follow or "give in" as some would say to their natural desires. What ever that may be for you. Why is there a war within ourselves if it, whatever that may be, is natural. Why is there physical consequences to our choice to follow our desires? For myself, as a believer in Christ... is the war within myself between my own spirit and the Holy Spirit with in me? Because I'll tell you this...there are times I feel like I'm fighting a battle for sure!
So there then lies the question in the title in this pondering... should it be..
If it feels good ... DO IT!!!
or
If it feels good... do it???
thoughts?
I love to talk to people.
Especially people older than myself. People that have more life experience and listen to the wisdom they have gleaned from their experiences.
I had the pleasure today, after accompanying my Dad to his chemotherapy appointment, to enjoy a bowl of soup in the hospital cafeteria and interesting conversation. He told me of his frustration with his incredibly strong body being beaten down with a treatment meant to heal him. I could see the frustration, the anger, AND the determination within his eyes and felt many of the same emotions for him. On the way home we pass Curry Barracks. A once majestic home for our military boys stationed here in Calgary. My father spent about 5 or 6 years there serving our nation with the 2nd battalion of the Queen's Own Rifles. He almost always points out as we drive by where his room was, what buildings were what and hilarious stories from the parade square. I see the joy in his eyes as I watch the memories swirl. Today we decided to turn in and take a little look around to see what we could see. A little closer look at those buildings we rush by. We decided to check out the old officer's club where my father served as a bartender for a time. There are some stories and experiences there that he would prefer to have not experienced and would like to forget but the pride in remembering the perfect precision of the gardens out back, the dining room, kitchen and various other rooms is wonderful to experience with him as he describes in beautiful detail. It is now a sales office. The young lady taking care of the reception desk was honoured and excited to have a former military man come and visit and was more than willing to let us take a look around. Much to our surprise there was a large framed photo of my Dad's own battalion on a march for a special occasion that I will have to recall when we go back and take a picture. I was excited and proud!! Another young woman took the time to show us a small door that revealed the fact that everything , every room was actually not attached to the existing building as they were not allowed to cause any damage to this once majestic building that housed our military officers. "It's really a building within a building! " she said. As I peered in , there was enough room to see what the walls used to look like... the detail in carpentry .. the old windows. Old covered by new. Even the floors had to be built on a platform. I prefer the old. Though the new was very nice. There is something about the craftsmanship of the original building that you just can't touch. I listened intently to the stories and memories my Dad chose to share and almost felt like I was there. We drove around the base and he pointed out all the rooms he stayed in and as he talked I saw his mood lift. At least for a time.
Tonight as I started to replay the day in my mind. I remembered his eyes. How they change depending on what he talks about or how he is feeling.
I was raised to look at people in the eye when they talk to you. That was reinforced during a wonderful 30 year career as a hairstylist. When people talk to you and you don't look them in the eye, there is so much that is missed. Words are words. Sometimes filled with wisdom. Sometimes there are just not words invented yet for the feeling felt deep down that are revealed in a person's eyes.
It got me to thinking of the mind, body, soul connection.
What is it that connects the soul and the body? I mean, obviously our body is the vessel for the soul. The soul being our true self. We are all going to leave this planet some day and it's the vessel that gets left behind. That vessel will no longer breath, think, feel, but the soul will. How is it that whether we feel joy or sorrow that moves our very soul, we feel it physically? We feel a very real pain in our hearts. Nausea in our stomachs, we feel as if our heart will explode with such excitement we may physically explode!
There are many articles to "google" about the scientific connection of emotion and it's physical effect or manifestation through our involuntary physical actions. Meaning tears, smiles, laughs etc. I urge you to google it if it interests you. What stuck out to me in a variety of articles was, in "Jacquie terms", various emotions... like tearing up, crying, is the bodies way of letting you know there is something that needs to be addressed. Feelings of overwhelming sadness, frustration, anger or even joy are basically needing to be expressed. As if our physical body... the vessel... is just to small to contain the feelings. They need to be released. Some say it's the bodies way of purging toxicity. That was something I found intriguing! Negative emotions being toxic to the physical self and needing to be purged.
I could go on for quite a while with that train of thought and I may do that yet, with a particular writing project I'm working on, but the point I'm getting to is I worry. I worry when I see that blankness in someones eyes. When they start to talk and because whatever they are feeling is starting to "leak out of their eyes" I can almost see the light behind their eyes go out... like they shut the curtain. A pretty good analogy I figure as I believe the eyes are truly the windows to the soul. Sometimes it's a curtain going up and sometimes it's a brick wall.... whatever the barrier... the bigger it is the bigger the emotion they are trying to push down. I worry because those feelings, those memories, those thoughts are going to be released some how. So just as physical pain is our bodies way of letting us know "something needs to be addressed"... so are our tears, our anger, our shouting. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not all hung up on the negative emotions.. nor am I talking about my father with any of this. I've seen it in countless eyes of the cherished clients, friends and family I share life with. At times it gets so overwhelming to see and feel what's going on behind someones eyes I just need to turn away. Though I find myself excitedly peering at the "windows" when someone is feeling intense joy. At the birth of a child, a wedding, a graduation or any exciting event or news that is making them physically jump up and down with profound feeling of happiness as if they have to expend that energy or they may actually explode! I find myself clapping or laughing that big loud laugh I'm notorious for, watching and physically feeling their joy... smiling like an idiot after being covered in an explosion of freaky happy energy!
I just find it fascinating to observe. To listen. To learn. To watch. Now that actually may sound creepy, but I mean when I'm talking with people I know or have just met... just wanted to clarify.
There is so much more to learn about someone other than the words that come out of there mouths. The emotions behind the eyes. The body language they involuntarily show is where the truth lay. That brings to the original thought I had this evening. I find it interesting that we can say what ever we want to convince someone of what we want them to believe about ourselves... like "I'm fine" ... "I'm good", but our physical mannerisms our involuntary body language will always give up the truth of our emotions.
What about the physical self though? A common catch phrase in the church is "fleshly desires" and I won't get into the whole thought process I have on that... I'm keeping that for "the book"...you'll just have to wait... lol... There's a whole other can of worms... If the flesh is weak but the soul is willing... what the heck does that mean. Can the flesh actually want something the soul knows is wrong or bad for us. Or do we just have these desires somewhere within us, to do , to try , to experience, to say , to react, whether those experiences or desires are "good" for us or not, the world says , if it feels good do it! This seems to be the "norm" in our society. If it feels good do it! No regret , no worries, do what "comes naturally"... how bad can that be. Then how come when we do "what comes naturally" we realise it was a bad decision. If its natural... how can it be bad? How can there , at times, be serious consequences for the choices we make to do what comes naturally. To follow or "give in" as some would say to their natural desires. What ever that may be for you. Why is there a war within ourselves if it, whatever that may be, is natural. Why is there physical consequences to our choice to follow our desires? For myself, as a believer in Christ... is the war within myself between my own spirit and the Holy Spirit with in me? Because I'll tell you this...there are times I feel like I'm fighting a battle for sure!
So there then lies the question in the title in this pondering... should it be..
If it feels good ... DO IT!!!
or
If it feels good... do it???
thoughts?
Monday, 18 May 2015
Gossip...its toxic to the soul!
Gossip.
I don't know why this topic is on my mind today.
I was watching something on you tube the other day on how to organize and de clutter. I will give credit to the woman when I have a minute to recheck what her name is and the book she wrote later. While her video has nothing to do with gossip, her philosophy of whatever does not bring you joy, thank for its service, let go of, got me thinking beyond the material objects currently overtaking my home.
Maybe it's recalling the memories of 30 years of hairdressing... Usually these memories creep in involuntarily. Gossip from both sides of the chair...meaning from clients, staff, myself.
Maybe it's just being in contact with people in general....which is much more likely.
The initial excitement that someone is going to share a secret with you, makes you feel trusted, then discovering what they have to say is hateful, energy sucking garbage that is completely toxic to the soul, robbing you of joy. I recall literally walking away, exhaling disgust and physically swiping the negativity the seemed to surround me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not just talking about other people, I'm talking about myself.
After having kids and in attempt to teach them values and good solid character, to love God, others and themselves you try to shed the negative and remain positive. These little souls have been entrusted to your care. One must take it seriously. Trying to teach your kids that everyday you have a choice. To be good, or to be bad. To follow what's right or what's wrong, you start to evaluate your own actions. Am I make good choices in my own life as it pertains to MY life. Am I taking care of MY body, mind and soul?!
Garbage in....Garbage out...am I correct?
So thus starts the question I ask myself daily....
Am I bring joy to God, myself and others with my words and actions today!?
Or am I cluttering mine and others souls with negativity ?
This brings to mind one of my favourite verses...
And now, dear brothers and sisters,one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable,and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.
Philippians 4:8.
So instead of garbage in, garbage out.
Practice joy in, joy out.
Just my thoughts...
I don't know why this topic is on my mind today.
I was watching something on you tube the other day on how to organize and de clutter. I will give credit to the woman when I have a minute to recheck what her name is and the book she wrote later. While her video has nothing to do with gossip, her philosophy of whatever does not bring you joy, thank for its service, let go of, got me thinking beyond the material objects currently overtaking my home.
Maybe it's recalling the memories of 30 years of hairdressing... Usually these memories creep in involuntarily. Gossip from both sides of the chair...meaning from clients, staff, myself.
Maybe it's just being in contact with people in general....which is much more likely.
The initial excitement that someone is going to share a secret with you, makes you feel trusted, then discovering what they have to say is hateful, energy sucking garbage that is completely toxic to the soul, robbing you of joy. I recall literally walking away, exhaling disgust and physically swiping the negativity the seemed to surround me. Don't get me wrong, I'm not just talking about other people, I'm talking about myself.
After having kids and in attempt to teach them values and good solid character, to love God, others and themselves you try to shed the negative and remain positive. These little souls have been entrusted to your care. One must take it seriously. Trying to teach your kids that everyday you have a choice. To be good, or to be bad. To follow what's right or what's wrong, you start to evaluate your own actions. Am I make good choices in my own life as it pertains to MY life. Am I taking care of MY body, mind and soul?!
Garbage in....Garbage out...am I correct?
So thus starts the question I ask myself daily....
Am I bring joy to God, myself and others with my words and actions today!?
Or am I cluttering mine and others souls with negativity ?
This brings to mind one of my favourite verses...
And now, dear brothers and sisters,one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable,and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.
Philippians 4:8.
So instead of garbage in, garbage out.
Practice joy in, joy out.
Just my thoughts...
Wednesday, 13 August 2014
excerpt for "The Year Hell Came For A Visit...."
Do you ever feel like your mind will snap at any moment? Like holding on to
a rope with one hand as you feel your fingers gripping tighter and tighter.
Hands cramping, pain in the joints,sweat forming a film between your grip
and the rope you are so desperately trying to hold on to. Holding your
breath, teeth clenched and now you see it... One random feather materializes
out of no where. Momentarily distracted by this odd appearance still unable
to breathe for fear that one wrong movement and you will slip into a
bottomless abyss of insanity never to be heard from again. Then the feather
softly and gracefully floats back and forth on its perilous journey directly
towards my fatigued and slipping grip. The feather makes no noise as it
makes contact and just a whisper of a touch...yet in my mind something has
exploded ,tearing the mind from societies definition of sanity and the grip
is finally relinquished. Falling weightless ,eyes closed , smiling
...finally the suppressed laughter of a broken mind bursts into the dusk and
floats among the pieces of a mind that was never mine.
Is this what insanity feels like? Like a weightless fall into a bottomless
pit? It doesn't feel like a pit, more like a weightless float.... Maybe
it's a complete submission...a release from all of societies expectation of
normalcy.
I gently float and finally come to rest on what feels like a cloud. A mist
of peace covers me like a warm blanket. This is not insanity. The very
definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a
different result yet that's what we all do isn't it? Maybe the mind finally
breaking is a forced vacation from the ever increasing pressure society
inflicts on us to excel. To succeed in a race that is never finished and has
no winners or medals. A never ending iron man race to the top of a mountain
we can't see the top of. If you don't mind, I think I will lay and rest a
while in my societal sanity coma. I plan on resting in my coma cloud until
the shards of my mind find their way back and reform into a stronger new
creation.
Still wrapped in a peaceful mist, a smile gracing my lips,eyes closed and
floating in weightlessness, a shuffle of activity breaks my slumber.
Cracking my eyelids slightly I see a rosy cheeked, smiling cherub smiling at
me. " mommy morning, up". Stretching, I smile and mutter something
resembling "good morning",and throw the covers aside. Another day starts
and another day with my adorable little boys. I look to the other side of
the bed and realize my husband has already left for work, departing in
silence, not making a sound to wake up his family.
Walking down the hall, my mind drifts to the dream I just had. What was
that all about? I ponder. As I begin to shuffle around the kitchen heading
directly to the coffee pot, I turn on the tap to begin making my morning
beverage of caffeinated energy that gets me through the morning, wondering
if my dream was a vision of past events or of things to come. Not ready for
such heavy pondering, I finish making my pot of coffee and head for the
couch for my morning cuddle with my angel boys.
There really is nothing more warm and comforting as the two warm and sleepy
soft and chubby cherub like bodies of my sons climbing onto my lap and
resting their heads on my chest. One pops his thumb into his mouth and a
sound of love and comfort escapes from his throat as he settles in. "
blankie mommy". He whispers and I reach for his blanket he has dragged with
him from his bedroom and cover them both up. My older son pushes the
blanket off and says " no mommy, no blanket just you". Both boys so
different and yet both content to be cuddled. As am I. It's all I want to
do at this very moment. The three of us content and warm wrapped in the
love we share.
What seemed like a moment my sons slide off my lap breaking the warm feeling
that swelled my heart . I reach for my cup of steaming dark caffein rich
liquid energy and I drink in the warming fluid. As it warms my chest I'm
transported back to the memory of my dream the night before. Folding my
legs to my chest I bask in the memory of my peaceful float. Then the memory
of the falling, the fear , the anxiety, the mind breaking torment that
preceded it. My brow furrows as I wonder why I would have dreamt that. The
day before was the usual. Chores and playing, laughing and scolding ,
teaching and bandaging, cooking and cleaning. Moments of feeling
overwhelmed but nothing I couldn't deal with. Speaking of dealing...I get
up , walk to the kitchen cupboard and reach to the top shelf and grab my
bottle of medication I have gotten used to taking daily. I pop the familiar
white pill into my mouth and wash it down with a mouthful of coffee. I
silently pray and thank God for this medication that has made me feel normal
again. Wondering...will I have to take this medication forever? For now,
the answer is yes. It has made me feel like me again, and I am
grateful...because for a while I felt everything but normal. I tend to put
a title to events and stories I verbalize to friends and family. The period
of time in which I felt as though I was losing my grip on reality I have
entitled...
"The year hell came for a visit... and the day I let God answer the door".
a rope with one hand as you feel your fingers gripping tighter and tighter.
Hands cramping, pain in the joints,sweat forming a film between your grip
and the rope you are so desperately trying to hold on to. Holding your
breath, teeth clenched and now you see it... One random feather materializes
out of no where. Momentarily distracted by this odd appearance still unable
to breathe for fear that one wrong movement and you will slip into a
bottomless abyss of insanity never to be heard from again. Then the feather
softly and gracefully floats back and forth on its perilous journey directly
towards my fatigued and slipping grip. The feather makes no noise as it
makes contact and just a whisper of a touch...yet in my mind something has
exploded ,tearing the mind from societies definition of sanity and the grip
is finally relinquished. Falling weightless ,eyes closed , smiling
...finally the suppressed laughter of a broken mind bursts into the dusk and
floats among the pieces of a mind that was never mine.
Is this what insanity feels like? Like a weightless fall into a bottomless
pit? It doesn't feel like a pit, more like a weightless float.... Maybe
it's a complete submission...a release from all of societies expectation of
normalcy.
I gently float and finally come to rest on what feels like a cloud. A mist
of peace covers me like a warm blanket. This is not insanity. The very
definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a
different result yet that's what we all do isn't it? Maybe the mind finally
breaking is a forced vacation from the ever increasing pressure society
inflicts on us to excel. To succeed in a race that is never finished and has
no winners or medals. A never ending iron man race to the top of a mountain
we can't see the top of. If you don't mind, I think I will lay and rest a
while in my societal sanity coma. I plan on resting in my coma cloud until
the shards of my mind find their way back and reform into a stronger new
creation.
Still wrapped in a peaceful mist, a smile gracing my lips,eyes closed and
floating in weightlessness, a shuffle of activity breaks my slumber.
Cracking my eyelids slightly I see a rosy cheeked, smiling cherub smiling at
me. " mommy morning, up". Stretching, I smile and mutter something
resembling "good morning",and throw the covers aside. Another day starts
and another day with my adorable little boys. I look to the other side of
the bed and realize my husband has already left for work, departing in
silence, not making a sound to wake up his family.
Walking down the hall, my mind drifts to the dream I just had. What was
that all about? I ponder. As I begin to shuffle around the kitchen heading
directly to the coffee pot, I turn on the tap to begin making my morning
beverage of caffeinated energy that gets me through the morning, wondering
if my dream was a vision of past events or of things to come. Not ready for
such heavy pondering, I finish making my pot of coffee and head for the
couch for my morning cuddle with my angel boys.
There really is nothing more warm and comforting as the two warm and sleepy
soft and chubby cherub like bodies of my sons climbing onto my lap and
resting their heads on my chest. One pops his thumb into his mouth and a
sound of love and comfort escapes from his throat as he settles in. "
blankie mommy". He whispers and I reach for his blanket he has dragged with
him from his bedroom and cover them both up. My older son pushes the
blanket off and says " no mommy, no blanket just you". Both boys so
different and yet both content to be cuddled. As am I. It's all I want to
do at this very moment. The three of us content and warm wrapped in the
love we share.
What seemed like a moment my sons slide off my lap breaking the warm feeling
that swelled my heart . I reach for my cup of steaming dark caffein rich
liquid energy and I drink in the warming fluid. As it warms my chest I'm
transported back to the memory of my dream the night before. Folding my
legs to my chest I bask in the memory of my peaceful float. Then the memory
of the falling, the fear , the anxiety, the mind breaking torment that
preceded it. My brow furrows as I wonder why I would have dreamt that. The
day before was the usual. Chores and playing, laughing and scolding ,
teaching and bandaging, cooking and cleaning. Moments of feeling
overwhelmed but nothing I couldn't deal with. Speaking of dealing...I get
up , walk to the kitchen cupboard and reach to the top shelf and grab my
bottle of medication I have gotten used to taking daily. I pop the familiar
white pill into my mouth and wash it down with a mouthful of coffee. I
silently pray and thank God for this medication that has made me feel normal
again. Wondering...will I have to take this medication forever? For now,
the answer is yes. It has made me feel like me again, and I am
grateful...because for a while I felt everything but normal. I tend to put
a title to events and stories I verbalize to friends and family. The period
of time in which I felt as though I was losing my grip on reality I have
entitled...
"The year hell came for a visit... and the day I let God answer the door".
Sunday, 29 June 2014
Broken Pieces
How did I know I had met "the one"?
The one I would spend the rest of my life with. God willing.
Gut feeling? Heart feeling? Whisper in the soul?
I can't describe it ... I just knew.
I knew as he slipped the golden band on my finger , that perfect day in September 1996, that I had some how become more complete than I was. Not that I was not before , but we had become one soul. One entity.
I knew we would be together forever.
Our marriage has had it's hard times, In those times it was hard to see the lesson but as they say ... hindsight is 20/20.
Fists clenched stubbornly holding on to independence that threatened to tear this heart apart.
Words spoken, hearts shattered... could it ever be healed.
Through blurry tears clumsily trying to glue the shattered heart together by more words.
Not working..
Finally , with no more strength of will left, laying down the shattered pieces at the foot of the cross.
Lord, I give you this heart. Please put it back together.
With one touch of the Master's hand, he creates a new heart. Stronger than before.
With a brisk inhale, my chest rises with the new creation filled with the purest love.
With one touch, two become one again.
With one touch, all is forgiven.
With one touch.
No words.
Sunday, 18 May 2014
Words in the Wind
Words of Wisdom for Myself...
Words.
They can spew out of the mouth from deep within like shards of glass from a weary and broken soul.
Words.
Meant to slice. Meant to hurt, Meant to cut.
Words that are so sharp they cut... they cause the heart...the very soul to bleed.
Pain.
Pain that in time, will heal but will leave a scar.
Words.
They can spew out of the mouth from deep within like shards of glass from a weary and broken soul.
Words.
Meant to slice. Meant to hurt, Meant to cut.
Words that are so sharp they cut... they cause the heart...the very soul to bleed.
Pain.
Pain that in time, will heal but will leave a scar.
WORDS!
Can be sweet.
That can lift the intended up on a whirlwind of perfumed essence that make one feel they are beautiful.
Special and lifted higher...lighter.
Which would YOU rather hear?
Which would YOU rather feel?
Which would YOU rather speak?
Sunday, 11 May 2014
Happy Mother's Day
Happy Mother's Day to all the mom's out there.
To all the Mom's like me that were woken up by their husband and two beautiful boys with breakfast in bed and gifts only a 4 and 6 year old could think of.. their favorite stuffed animals. Hand made cards by not only my boys but my husband as well.
The thought behind their gifts is so precious to me. The fact that in their young minds and hearts they would give their most prized possessions to me because that's the "bestest" thing they had and could think of to give me that I would like. Of course they will take them back at some point but the meaning behind the gesture is the gift.
To all the Mom's that have lost a child or children of any age that have lost a Mother my prayers are with you as you remember the good times and hopefully have a precious silent moment remembering knowing some day you will see each other again.
To my Mother in law who is very precious to me. Quiet, calm, patient and loving. You have raised an amazing man. One very much like you. I am so very blessed that he picked me to be his partner in life and blessed me with two amazing boys. I am blessed to have you as another Mother. ;-)
To my Mother who is the most amazing woman I know. You are strong, inspiring and creative. You are calm, quiet and peaceful. Who have always been the stability and strength in my life and shown me and put my feet on the path to loving God. You have shown me that my stability and strength, inspiration and creativity are actually gifts from God. You, my dear Mama are such a gift. A gift from above. A gift that only God could give. The first person that showed me unconditional love and for that I will be forever grateful to my Father above.
Happy Mother's day!!
... and her children will rise up and call her BLESSED!
To all the Mom's like me that were woken up by their husband and two beautiful boys with breakfast in bed and gifts only a 4 and 6 year old could think of.. their favorite stuffed animals. Hand made cards by not only my boys but my husband as well.
The thought behind their gifts is so precious to me. The fact that in their young minds and hearts they would give their most prized possessions to me because that's the "bestest" thing they had and could think of to give me that I would like. Of course they will take them back at some point but the meaning behind the gesture is the gift.
To all the Mom's that have lost a child or children of any age that have lost a Mother my prayers are with you as you remember the good times and hopefully have a precious silent moment remembering knowing some day you will see each other again.
To my Mother in law who is very precious to me. Quiet, calm, patient and loving. You have raised an amazing man. One very much like you. I am so very blessed that he picked me to be his partner in life and blessed me with two amazing boys. I am blessed to have you as another Mother. ;-)
To my Mother who is the most amazing woman I know. You are strong, inspiring and creative. You are calm, quiet and peaceful. Who have always been the stability and strength in my life and shown me and put my feet on the path to loving God. You have shown me that my stability and strength, inspiration and creativity are actually gifts from God. You, my dear Mama are such a gift. A gift from above. A gift that only God could give. The first person that showed me unconditional love and for that I will be forever grateful to my Father above.
Happy Mother's day!!
... and her children will rise up and call her BLESSED!
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