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I Believe

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I believe in saying what I feel. Candor isn’t always received well, but I’d rather be open about what I feel than be misunderstood. Our time is too short to be misunderstood.

I believe in loving openly. I don’t give a damn if you love, or even like, my friends: I love them for their beautiful qualities and their beautiful mistakes.

I believe in screwing up. I make mistakes, sometimes huge ones, but it means I’m doing something, trying to move forward. I know others will screw up, too, because we’re human, and we’re all doing what we think is right with the tools we have in the moment.

I believe in forgiving. Perhaps I’m too forgiving, but it’s really hard for me to deep-down-to-my-core believe that the people in my world are willfully malicious. Yeah, some people are just plain mean, but most aren’t.

I believe in cutting ties. Sounds opposite of the forgiving, but I don’t think it is. There are some people that are not a good fit in our lives, toxic, that need to go. It doesn’t mean I hate anyone; it just means I love myself enough to know some folks are not part of my tribe, and I wish them well. When we cut ties, it frees those people, too, to find where they belong.

I believe in getting mad. That’s not contrary to the forgiving mindset above. I believe in digging in and really feeling what you feel, even if you feel furious, so you can move on with things.

I believe in laughter. I love to laugh so hard my belly hurts, my face hurts. Joy is glorious and contagious.

I believe in trying again. Sometimes I get mad and stay mad…and need to have another go at that forgiveness thing. I sometimes need to try again to really embrace my own feelings instead of denying them. I am imperfect but striving only to be the best me I can be on any given day.

I believe in endless warm mugs on cold days, vacations in hammocks, reading, writing, super dark chocolate, bubble baths, naps, and enjoying the journey we’re on.

Here’s a song called “I Believe” from Tears for Fears, because I also believe in music. Every life should have a soundtrack.

My favorite time of year is now behind us, booooo hiss

I fell off the blog bandwagon for a few days because it was time for all things Halloween-y and Samhain-y.
Pumpkin painting. Halloween dinner. Rosemary and a remembrance candle for Nana, Gramps, Mamaw, Gary, Granny, Chris, Kevin, Clay, Gracie and anyone else that touched my heart that’s on the other side now. Scary movies that made, like, zero sense at all. Day after Halloween shopping in the snow. Sunday on the couch in pajamas all day watching paranormal tv shows, eating burritos, and laughing so hard my jaws hurt.
I had a great Halloween surprise, hummed the “Jaws” theme and stalked the teenagers while in my shark costume, and sang “This is Halloween” so many times I think my kiddo will pay cash to not hear that song again.
I’m procrastinating taking down my Halloween decorations. I hate to see them go. Every day should be a little Halloween-y: full of magical possibilities, full of fun surprises, with ample laughter and delight.

tradition

Today was our annual pumpkin painting party. We’ve been doing this for years just ahead of Halloween. Some new faces joined us this time, and it was a really special day.

I am grateful to be able to honor a household tradition and make new memories. One of my guests is moving out of state, and I feel sad that this may have been her last party for a while.

A new face joined in, and I am feeling such gratitude for the willingness to try something new in the company of my old friends and family. I feel hope and a cautious, wary optimism when I consider the possibilities.

Cheers to the comfortable bliss of tradition as well as the nervous but positive energy of a new beginning. Today, I am happy.

The Morning After Some Rock N Roll

Morning comes too damn soon when you’ve been out screaming your head off and throwing out your devil horn fingers in another town. The Motley Crue final tour…thoughts:
1. It was freakin’ awesome to go with one of my besties since KINDERGARTEN. Yeah, we’ve known each other since we were five years old, and we were even Brownie Scouts together, so it was super fun to go on a field trip, although super sad to end an era.
2. I love live music, love the entertainment factor of a great show. Between Alice Cooper and Motley Crue, there was fake blood, fire, bubbles, pentagrams, leather, fog and a drum kit on the ceiling. It was a show. It was an experience. If you can’t get into the whole package, can’t settle in for the ride, don’t go. Stay home. You’ll hate this. It shouldn’t sound just like the album, because if it did, what the hell would be the point??
3. I still jump up and down and scream until my voice is gone, just like I always have. I raise my ginormous coffee to never outgrowing the joy of a live show.
4. We’ve been listening to Crue since middle school, and the final tour concept is kind of mind-boggling. They’re taking their toys and going home, closing up the Crue shop. WTF? Now, other bands have said “farewell” only to come back and do it again. Crue is saying now, though, that this tour could run through 2015, with their final show in 2016?? That’s a long ass farewell tour, but they have a “cessation of touring” contract, refusing to tour again as a band once they hang this up. Crazy to think my idols are going to the house to watch “Wheel of Fortune.” The time passes; better do somethin’ good with it.

Accept the Nice

I have trouble accepting kindness directed my way. Generosity, compliments and all the normal kind stuff freak me out.

Chiquita tells me I need to “accept the nice.”

I think I must be defective, from the Island of Misfit Toys or something.

Here’s an example…it was said to me this week, “You look so pretty.” My brain goes, “Oh my God, what the hell does THAT mean? Is that sarcastic? Is this a trick? It’s probably a trick. It’s usually a trick. Pretty much always. Be a jerk about it. Shrug it off.”

Another example: “I’m going to figure you out.” And my brain goes, “The hell you are!” And alarms are sounding, battle stations are manned, it’s chaos, high alert.

I will work on accepting the nice, but for a little while, I’ll only accept it warily, like a feral cat accepts scraps: hesitant, on alert, then with intense focus.

I Kind of Care but Not Really

If we are friends, I kind of care what you think about the company I keep…but not really.

I don’t care if you think I should be friends with this person; if I don’t want to be, I’m not gonna. I don’t make fake nice with people to better my social status or please others. I mean, I’m not going out of my way to mean or disrespectful, but I’m not kissing someone’s ass just because you think they are super-duper if I don’t share your opinion.

I don’t care if you think I should turn my back on someone you dislike. If I’ve chosen to forgive and move forward, let it go. I forgive pretty easily. I get that humans screw up…sometimes they screw up more often than they get it right, and if I make the choice to forgive their human-ness, drop it. Or if you just plain don’t like my friend for no real reason other than you just don’t like them, so what? I don’t want to hear how much you dislike so and so. I’m not going to make you be on a bowling team with people you dislike, pinky promise. I can’t make all my friends be friends; that’s so first grade.

Just play nicely. Don’t wanna play with this person? Stay outta the sandbox then and do something else.

Pity Party

Ok, this has been one of those weeks.

I had something pop up that annoyed the piss out of me, grrrr.

Then I mustered up some courage and got hugely disappointed by another instance. On top of the annoyance, the disappointment was like having someone pop my soul over and over with a rubber band. Pop. Pop. Ouch.

And then, boom, my fragile heart held together with wishes and faith was jackhammered into bits by another situation. Annoyed, disappointed and then shattered.

Seriously, Universe?

Another day, I will look for the lessons I can learn from these three situations, but today, I am having an epic pity party. Lasagna, breadsticks, chocolate covered strawberries, sangria, pajamas, “Ghost Adventures,” and more sangria. This is deliberately unproductive down time.

I am grateful to those that texted and emailed me kind support. I am grateful to those that offered to keep me company tonight. It doesn’t go unnoticed who looks out for me when one of these weeks happens.

This has been an amazing week

So, I got published on PositivelyPositive.com, which is a great site. They publish some terrific authors and post consistently good content. It was a huge honor to see my post on their site.

What I didn’t expect was the response I received. Sure, I hoped my friends, family and fellow bloggers would jump in with some “likes” on Facebook and maybe a comment on their site, but I didn’t expect strangers, lots and lots of strangers, to comment and message me. Days after my original post, I am still getting comments, “likes,” shares, tweets from people all over the world.

Some people who are commenting have been without a home, and one man is without a home now. Others have a different situation but have been afraid to ask for help. Still others felt like they were blessed to realize they had something, even on their worst day, to share with another person…and some felt like they had nothing to give, nothing to offer. I have tried to comment and respond to every post I’ve seen this week.

I feel the love, the spark, the resonance. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It was a hard post to write because it was a time in my life that was totally uncomfortable and largely unhappy about many things. I had not yet gotten to the point where I realized I had control over my reactions, my feelings, and that I didn’t have to wallow in the hurts, so it’s a yucky time to visit, even in memory.

I have decided that bit by bit, it’s okay to tell these stories. Telling my stories might help someone else. There is a tremendous feeling of isolation when things are going terribly wrong in life, a feeling of failure and that no one else could possibly understand what you are going through…but the truth is, someone out there understands. That someone who understands might not be in your inner circle, so it is okay to reach out and be honest about what’s going wrong…but I would also challenge you to remember what is going right. If you are alive, that is at least one thing that is going right.

Thank you, friends both new and old, for allowing me to share my stories.

Foul Weather Friends

I think I’ve written about this before…if not, I meant to because it freakin’ bothers me.

I seem to have an abundance of foul weather friends, the kind of friends who only offer support if I am wallowing in the depths of misery and can’t function. If I am so distraught I can’t leave the bed, these friends want to take me out for drinks or bring a pitcher of drinks right to my bed…and that’s lovely, right? It is fantastic to have a helping hand up when I need it.

When I have good news to share, or even really amazing news to share, my texts and emails go unanswered. Silence. Nothing. No “way to go!” No “atta girl!”

It hurts my feelings, but it also makes me wonder why folks are so quick to rally around suffering while it’s so easy to shrug off the positive.

I try to make note of my friends’ accomplishments and triumphs when I can. I send cards and e-cards to celebrate the good stuff, not just to soothe them when they are frazzled. I “like” their statuses when it’s happy news just as much as I message them when I know they are down. I want to have dinner or drinks or whatever for no reason, not just because they got dumped or fired or a bad haircut.

When did we become a society that swarms to the negative? I want my friends to support me on great days, crappy days and ordinary days, and every day in between.

Let’s just pause for a moment and be grateful for friends…not so much the ginormous network of people on facebook or twitter that “like” our posts, but the people who know and love us no matter what. I have gratitude for friends that don’t judge my yoga pants, despite the fact that I don’t do yoga. I have thanks for those that recognize it’s totally normal for me to worry over Halloween decorations in May. Mad love for those that text me and tell me to come the hell out of hiding and be social, because sometimes, yes, I do need to be in good company. Props to those that don’t bat an eyelash when I say I’m on this weird food regimen and am not supposed to eat bread, and I tell them this while slathering a biscuit with apple butter. Cheers to the ones that hand me ice cold Jager shots and tell me to mellow out. Thank you for those that have been along for the ride since elementary school and others that have jumped on board the crazy train in the last couple decades. Mad love, big thanks today and every day.