Archive | deep stuff

Connection

I’ve been struggling a little to stay grounded, focused.

I need connection, real connection. I don’t need the artifice of a guided group meditation: I need someone to talk to late at night when we’ve dropped our guard. I don’t need the mass consumerism that is the mayhem of this time of year: I need someone to talk to over morning coffee sometimes…”what would you do if you didn’t have to work” conversations, where would you go, what do you dream of doing differently if you could reinvent your life, “can we just stay in bed all day” conversations.

I don’t believe we need other people to complete us. We are whole, or at least we should be whole, all on our own. After doing all the work to get whole and glue all my mental and emotional bits and pieces back together, I want the other stuff. I want private jokes and someone who gets me…and I want a lot of it. I don’t want to be anybody’s (stealing a Stevie Wonder song here) part time lover anymore. I used to be okay with the part time thing because I had other things going on that needed my attention, but I’m not feeling okay with it anymore.

It’s okay to want connection. It’s okay for me not to settle for less. I want the whole shebang.

But.

What if I don’t get it?

I’ll be okay because I’ve toughed it out through much worse, but I still want it. I’ll be fine because I am strong and I’ve done the work on myself…hell, I’m still doing the work on myself; forgiveness meditations are my jam. I’ll be whole, and I’ll be just fine, but it’s absolutely okay to want the icing to go on my cake. I want the icing!

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wellllll, that didn’t go well

Took a big ol’ huge monumental epic risk, oh yes, I did.  Didn’t pan out.

And.

Ouchhhhhhhhh. Fell flat on my face, flat on my ass. Came up empty handed.

2016 has been the year of the bruised and beaten ego, that is for damn sure. Personally and professionally, it’s been a non-stop action-packed kick in the teeth. Life is not boring, that’s for damn sure, but I could use a big win soon.

So here’s a song that every time I listen, it reminds me of traipsing through the streets of New Orleans, and that’s just divine:

If you’re a person of prayer or blessing or lighting a candle or some incense, do that for me. I could use a little strength in numbers right now.

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TGIF, yo

I am having a tiny breakdown on a Friday, just a momentary hitch in my giddyup, so here are some positive truths to lay on ya as I work to get my head right again:

  1. I don’t EVER regret showing someone love and kindness.  Their dumbassery is a reflection on them, not me.  I give the love and kindness at every chance I get.
  2. Iced coffee, splash of milk of your choice, and then Bailey’s chocolate cherry.  You’re welcome.
  3. I am incredibly forgiving.  (If I won’t forgive you, it’s not about me.  It’s about you, really.)
  4. See number 2.
  5. Looking for work is emotionally draining but the only way to get a different outcome is to try something different.  Yep.  So I am…and all the “no thank you”s I’m getting are surely leading the way to the right option…right?! RIGHT?! Yeah.  I need a pep talk today.
  6. See number 2.

Happy Friday.  May your weekend be full of rest, relaxation, laughter, and love…and see item number two on that list.

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I should be asleep

But instead I’m doing that thing where I obsess over song lyrics.

“All is lost again
But I’m not giving in
I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away
I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away”

That’s some Breaking Benjamin.

It’s a new moon and a good time to reset my focus. I’m taking risks, and y’know, being a damn idiot…but carpe diem.

If I don’t get what I want, it will never, ever be for lack of trying. I will say the words, try a different route, rip it apart to rebuild anew…but I will try. I will not collect dust…I will take your breath away.

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hmmm, i might regret that later…

I thought and thought and thought about putting something “out there” and being really open about something…and in typical Kat fashion, I put it out there.  It’s out there.  Shit.  Can’t take it back.

Being vulnerable and being open sometimes makes me panic.  I think it’s incredibly important to be real and be honest, but it still scares me to bravely put my thoughts and feelings out for a situation when I’m not sure how it will be received.

What I put out there won’t be “revealed” to this other party for a few days, so I have several days to pace and sweat and fret…I guess the fretting comes in when I think I might feel hurt or embarrassed by how it is received.  I don’t like getting my feelings hurt, but with that said, I also don’t want to be afraid to speak up.  I needed to speak up.  Something was bothering me, nagging at me, waking me up at night sometimes…so I needed to speak up.

Be brave.  Speak your truth.  It’s better to know the answers than to live in doubt.  Yeah, it’s scary to take these risks, but to me, it’s so much scarier to have not spoken up for myself.  Root for me, cheer for me…and catch me when I fall.

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Thanksgiving 2016

I was thinking this morning that a year ago, I couldn’t have guessed how different my life would be today.

For my own well-being, I’ve had to cut some important people and things loose in 2016, some for a little while and some for good.  Frankly, that sucked pretty damn hard, but it was necessary so that I had the energy and attention to turn toward the positive things.

I’ve been to a few more funerals than I would’ve liked over the last year.  The desired number of funerals I’d like to attend is zero per year, but that’s not realistic.  That was hard, too, but each was a reminder to live fully.

Every year, I like to think I get closer to living a life that is true to who I am.  I live how I want.  I love how I want.  I don’t give a fuck if you like what I’m wearing or like who I love…ain’t nobody got time for that.  It’s my party, after all, and I am the belle of my ball, y’all.  Be the belle of your own ball as well; it’s pretty great.

I’m thankful for my family and my friends.  I’m grateful for my fur kids, too, who cheer me up on the hardest days and remind me  to get excited about even the tiniest moments.  With the crap that’s fallen apart around me all year long, I have big gratitude for the basics like hot water and hvac, and I appreciate the luxury of having a working dryer and dishwasher.  I’m grateful to have a bed after spending some nights on the floor.  I’m thankful for quiet time spent alone to think and recharge as well as happy time spent with others.

Thinking back over the last year, I’ve been to some great concerts, from dancing my ass off to Duran Duran to being in awe of Ghost’s macabre show.  I’ve made a lot of jewelry that I’m proud of; it’s gotten better with practice.  I’ve written some good stuff and some crappy stuff, too; not every writing session yields gold, but to find the treasure, ya gotta dig.  I’ve seen the kiddo graduate high school early…and looks like she’ll be graduating cosmetology school early, too.  I’ve traveled for work, and I’ve traveled a little for fun, too.  I’ve gotten to see some long lost faces over the last year.  There’s been a lot of sushi and a lot of sake.  I’ve danced to “Cry Little Sister” while dressed as a rogue cowboy, and I’ve played classic video games while laughing about how much I suck since I’m out of practice.  I’ve given some great hugs, and I’ve received some great hugs.

Today there will be turkey and pie and family.  I made breakfast in the pre-dawn darkness for the kiddo working retail on Thanksgiving morning (a travesty that the store is open on Thanksgiving!).  I’ve taken the dogs for a walk, and we gave out dog biscuits to the neighbor dogs on our route.  I’ve sent some texts out to the people I love…I hope they know that text message is love, because that is my intention.  My intention is to give more of my attention to the good stuff, to the good people.  I am thankful for the opportunity to share my words and my love with you.

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Shut Up!

I’ve tried to be introspective and quiet and avoid conflict, but for fuck’s sake, SHUT UP! If you are going to gossip about me all around town, it will get back to me, and it did.

Do you feel somehow in the right by talking about me? We’re in this rift because you couldn’t mind your own business. I shared with you, and rather than protect the information shared like the fragile thing it was, you ran to the other side of the issue the very next day…which was the wrong thing to do.

I walked away, thinking that would be a good temporary resolution until I could get a clear perspective and have a calm discussion. No fanfare, no naming of names, I just walked away. No smack talking, no name calling, I just walked away to think.

I’m still not smack talking or name calling or even telling the world your name, as tempting as it might be when I’m so dismayed and frustrated in this moment. You’ve been talking about me BY NAME around town, and it made its way back to me. You’ve been super specific, sharing my business with people who shouldn’t know it at all.

So, hear this: I am a good person, and I have done no willful harm. I shared with you when I didn’t have to (I did NOT have to, really, and maybe I shouldn’t have), but I thought it was the right and proper thing to do…and you scampered right on over to the other side with that info the very next day.

I didn’t choose between you and someone else: I chose not to be gossip fodder…ha ha, the big joke’s on me, I guess, because rather than shut it down, you’re talking about me to whoever will listen now like I did something scandalous and obscene.

I naively believed that walking away to spend some time thinking would shut down the gossip train, but it only fueled it. I’m disappointed. I’m naive, thinking that if I extended respectful silence while I was reflecting, I would get respectful silence in return.

For anyone who reads this and can’t follow along: good. I’m not naming names. I’ll only disclose my disappointment, but no names, no details. This feeling of disappointment is mine to broadcast, and the details are nobody else’s business.

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I Don’t Wanna Give Up

Giving up is not the only option in the face of seeming defeat and frustration.
I don’t want to give up on a job that makes my heart happy.
I don’t want to give up on the idea that I can have the love I want.

Stubborn…yeah, so?

The more I’m told to give up on a job or a person or an idea, the less I want to do that.
Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean I should quit.
Just because none of this shit comes easy doesn’t mean I will quit.

I want what I want.

I want a job that pays my spirit as much as it pays the bills. I want a love that makes me laugh and feels solid.

I sort of have it all for a minute, and then I don’t, slipping through my fingers like sand or like trying to hold onto jello by squeezing it tight. I am not ready to wallow in defeat just yet.

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The Realness

Every time I lose a friend to the Reaper’s scythe, I lose a layer in the walls I put up. I become more real, more open. That is the gift from these losses: the realness, my realness.

The realness is not always comfortable for others; I get that. You were not at all prepared for me to tell you in person over your soup and sandwich earnestly that really, truly, all is forgiven, and that every single day, you are loved. Every single day: believe it.

I won’t ever be ashamed of being real. There’s no shame in giving others love, in telling them they are important.

The rules you toss around…”it’s too soon to tell me that” or “it’s too late to say that to me” or “you can’t say that…” Screw the rules. I will tell you what I want you to know, what I need you to know, and I give zero fucks about the rules that dictate what I “should” say or do.

I will not regret giving love. There is no remorse in being kind.

I can only offer you my love; I can’t make you return it. I can only offer you my hand; I can’t make you take it. As long as it is true, I will offer it, unflinching.

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Shame and Truths: RIP Jennifer

It’s the morning after the election. I scrolled through Facebook, and between the flood of posts from both the gloaters and the weepers, I remember that I lost a friend a week ago…and all your political banter seems like silly fluff to me when I remember she’s gone, exited at her own hand.

I don’t know precisely why she did it, but I do know this: we often carry around our dark secrets, ashamed, sure no one will love us if we come clean. We are sure opening up our suitcase of skeletons will cause us to lose our friends. They’ll think us foolish or weak, or maybe both, so we drag our nasty baggage around with us, hiding it away. The weight of it gets heavier as time goes by, crushing.

I’ve cracked open my baggage a time or two, but mostly I keep it snapped shut. I’ve given close friends a glimpse at what’s inside, and you know what happened? They asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you let me help?”

Because: I was embarrassed. I felt like a failure. I didn’t want to speak it out loud. I didn’t want anyone to know what was really going on with me because I didn’t want to trouble anyone. I needed to handle it myself. I needed to either overcome it or hide it away, but I didn’t want to advertise it. I am strong and asking for help is weak. I don’t know why. All those reasons and none of those reasons, maybe, and perhaps my friend was struggling with the same.

Let me crack open my baggage a little, just a peek, and see if you turn away…

I’ve been verbally abused and hit by men who claimed to be my husband. I say “claimed to be” because a true partner wouldn’t go there and/or he’d recognize his own problems and get some help. I’ve manage to wed two who did that, and I really don’t think I had a clue either time before the wedding. What does that make me? Blind? Naive? And where does that leave me today in relationships? Running away as fast as I can, or trying to control what can’t be controlled…which ends up in me being alone, which is safer, right?

Still with me?

I suck at adulting. I live paycheck to paycheck, hustling side jobs for any extras. I carry a lot of what I call “survival” debt where credit cards were used for medical, dental, child care, and things like clothes for the kid in the months where no child support came or it came, but there was not enough to cover costs like shoes for growing feet or the summer day camp field trip to Dollywood. I’ve never bought so much as a new couch or a new kitchen table. I’ve watched people build new houses and cart in their new beautiful furnishings and I’ve felt lower than low. I’m happy for them, but I quietly wonder, worry, obsess over what I have done wrong? I don’t get it. I have a wheelbarrow full of college degrees and relevant certifications, and I struggle to buy groceries most months. Sometimes when I have a little extra pocket money, I choose experiences with the people I love over a couch. Do you judge me? Could you tell me how to do it better from your comfy leather sofa?

Anyway. That’s enough for now.

My thought here was to shed some light on the things I carry around, that we all carry around, to maybe give some insight on why someone would give up on this life without us having a clue. The things we drag around fester and get heavier and heavier.

Do you believe in love? Do you believe in shame? If love can conquer all then why do we only feel the pain. We’ll miss you forever and then some, Jennifer.

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