Weed Your Garden

The people we choose to be around have an impact on our well-being.
Surround yourself with selfish people and you will find yourself getting tired, feeling lonely and constantly giving without reciprocation. These folks only notice you when they want something from you or they want an audience. They've got nothing to give but superficial platitudes and often when they aren't focused on enough- they will create a situation just to get attention. They feel entitled. They use charisma and drama to make their life a stage you get stuck on if you get too close. They take. Leaving your garden full of a stubborn, thorny weed that consumes all the nutrients and pushes out the healthy plants.
There are false friends who seem vibrant but are actually there on an agenda to use you, to amuse themselves or manipulate you to their advantage. They listen to you for ammunition. You trust them and you bleed for it. They skip merrily along uncaring or even delighted by the drama and destruction. These folks are dangerous. I've learned you can recognize them when they boast of how they've screwed people over or how they "love their boyfriend because he's an asshole", and the love seeing the wreckage. These are the poison Ivy vines snaking through, looking healthy as they strangle other plants and smear their irritating oil all over others around them, contaminating relationships for their own advantage. Usually financial, but sometimes just because. These folks usually have sociopathic tendencies. They don't want the people around them healthy. They often talk about wanting to see the world burn or society fall, chaos lovers.
On the other hand:
In your garden seek out and nurture:
Authentic friends. People who reciprocate. People who demonstrate maturity.
Listen to what they say, how they say it, how they treat others. How they regard others. Do they regard others?
Do not excuse or dismiss toxic behaviors. They do not just affect that individual, if that person is close to you- it will impact you and those around you.
I've been quietly weeding my garden, ripping out the narcissists, self absorbed, enablers, toxic, false friends, and unhealthy. I'm not responsible for those folks and having them around detracts from the health that I and the people I care about and am connected to have.
I'm taking time to assess, to nurture that garden in my heart.
It is not my responsibility to help those folks, but it is mine to be the best me I can be and to nurture the healthiest relationships I can with those I feel are worth investing in- those who invest back.

I hope you tend your garden. Be careful what you let grow there.

What's in Your Narrative?

In comics, there is a narrator who communicates the pertinent nonverbal information to the reader. In life, we each have a narrator in our heads.
How we are feeling, what we are perceiving: it changes the narrator's focus. The narrator sticks with what we linger on.
I've been fighting anxiety this spring. Fighting anxiety is like trying to beat up a swimming pool full of water. The water splashes, moves out in waves, gets unbalanced but remains mostly in the pool. In the end, you stand there feeling frustrated and exhausted and still anxious- and those closest to you have retreated out of the splash zone. Looking out and realizing you're making no progress, you try harder. The hard work isn't working. The water remains.
The narrator tries to shift perspective but you don't leave the pool. You've got a fight to win for peace of mind. The narrator becomes negative as that part of you knows you are going about this backward but you know if you just push through...
You're soaked.
Some folks rewrite the narrative here. They can't bear the weight of failing and they decide anxiety will always be a part of them. They come up with justifications and long ways of living that take them around every pool in their path.
I stopped fighting the other day, sitting and watching butterflies with a friend. My narrator had a chance to be heard. My narrator said "Flying not falling."
Swim instead of panic. Float. I went out, found myself a little black kitten, knowing I feel better with a little fuzzy companion.
My narrator backed off. Kitten distracted and mind finally not spinning through the worry hallway of my mind. Anxiety grows when it's fed. Confidence grows when you feed it. You can feed one but not both. Float.
Silly as it seemed, instead of fighting the fear and anxiety, I let go and just focused on the positives around me and the things I can change and address. Feeding confidence instead of uncertainty.
The anxiety lessened. Then it lessened more.
My narrator could have been destructive, admonishing me further into a worse state of mind. My narrator could have swept the anxiety under the rug to try to make me look superhuman.
My narrator prefers to stick the neutrality as much as possible. That person you are frustrated with today may turn into an amazing person over the next five years.
Each of us has our own story, it's as healthy as we make it.
I'm enjoying the relaxed muscles and returning appetite, the refreshed confidence that comes with anxiety release.

How does your narrator talk to you?

Finding Balance Again

Balance, it takes constant work. Walking across a low wire, only a few feet off the ground, you still fall if you get distracted.
You can practice low elements like a low wire with minimal safety gear and logical spotting. Off balance? Step off and start over.
In my youth I spent a lot of time practicing skills on low and high elements. Two line bridges, Cat's cradles, giant ladders, high wires. 
High elements over ten feet up, sometimes over twenty or thirty feet things are different. We did not practice these skills to perform for audiences. We faced them as challenges to overcome trust issues, develop communication and listening skills, to problem solve, develop self esteem, confidence, and teamwork. We all came from broken places, sharp edged children who could cut you with words and who carried emotional wounds that colored our worlds stark.
We learned when you are working with a partner, keep reaching, keep trying to communicate and listen. Instead of taking affront that the anxious person cuts in verbally, understand and sooth. Instead of getting annoyed at the slow speaker, keep catching yourself when you interject. Apologize. Trust. Everyone shares the work. Everyone succeeds together.
We joked, "That which doesn't kill us makes us stronger." The time I shredded my arm catching a fiberglass cargo net, but not quite well enough. The heavy rope I was on pulled me back. Thanks, Physics. The cargo net kept a good chunk of my arm. Bandage on. I went back up.
The last three years, I've spent a lot of time and energy focusing on trying to be healthy in a partnership, trying to encourage my partners to choose to heal as well.
Not everyone wants to heal. Not everyone wants to be what you see they could be, if they were brave enough. Low hanging fruit, habits.
I own that I am working through issues of anxiety, esteem, and that in the two relationships I felt insecure. Why?
Internal? External?
Part of it was knowing my partners weren't interested in anything more than temporary. Sometimes, to feel more secure temporarily, I put that thought on the backburner and kept planning and working forward. The abusive behavior and gaslighting of the first. The second waiting until he was done to communicate issues that we could have addressed months before. We both failed to communicate as well as we should have from the start.
It hurt to realize we had been out of sync for a while. That part of the hurt was not doing the fun things couples do when they love each other, the laughing, flirting, surprise gifts, wanting pictures of each other. We had bypassed that for routine and gradually spent more time in our heads. Resentments build in such a place.
Trying to put pieces back together that were flawed from the start, the pieces seemed to fit better. Hurts were still there.  Feelings of under appreciation, different priorities.
I'm tired. I'm taking time to go back to friends and memories, to look at where old wounds still hide. To address them.
I can trust my friends with the ropes. I've learned that. Giving the ropes back to the people who inspire me, who encourage me.
In turn, there I am, taking the ropes sometimes for them. Because. Trust. Love. We achieve more, we can face daunting tasks easier when we do it together.

Dealing With What Time Does Not Heal

Life happens. For better or worse. Beautiful moments, exhilaration and inspiration skipping your heart and blooming your smiles. Jagged painful moments: fear, sorrow, shame and anger are sharp edged as the gouge into your mind carving wounds there that time does not heal. Hoping the memories grow less poignant, less destructive does not lessen their impact.
Accidents. Medical issues. They rip away our assumptions of safety and strength. They take people we love in a moment leaving us with memories we hold fast to, as they are what we have left. Those memories and the unsettling knowledge that we are all fragile, mortal, and nothing can be taken for granted.
Abuse. Abuse scars us. Leaves us limping and torn inside, vulnerable. We begin to perceive ourselves as bad, flawed, broken. We perceive that somehow we deserve this and when we look around we see the people around us unaware of what hellish warping has happened to our view of ourselves and each other. It is difficult to break the cycle. It is hard to talk about the pain. The humiliation. The fear which becomes your constant companion. Part of you fights to take your power back, part of you becomes resigned as the community around you seems unaware or even accepting- making you wonder if perhaps you deserve the abuse. The critic in your head uses it all for ammunition.
Time makes it easier to talk about but the feelings come back. They are always with you. Folks seem uncomfortable around you, not always knowing what to say; they often say nothing or change topics which spirals you further into isolation. It gets more difficult to express the things you need to so you can heal and go forward. Depression and anxiety become constant companions you struggle with.
Even harder: when people you love still compliment and express positives about the people who hurt you. When they help an abuser, even if it is not related to you- it feels like bricks in a wall. Part of you wonders, do they understand what you went through? Do they conceive of how horrible a person can be and has chosen to be to you? A quiet voice whispers " they don't believe you."
No one wants to see the worst in a friend, even when its in front of them.
Abusive people can be very charismatic. They do not abuse everyone. Things get dismissed as jokes or moods. Do not talk about it. People might get uncomfortable. Do not talk about it, the abuser doesn't want people to know or to hold them accountable.
You have to talk to heal. The abuser gave up the right to be respected when they chose to use words and actions to torture you. This. This is truth. Talk. You might save someone else. You will save yourself. Talking with supportive people, healthy people- this helps you redefine yourself. It helps fight the inner critic. It helps you heal what time alone cannot.
The feelings do not go away. They are there when you triumph and when you fall down. Some days the feelings make it hard to get out of bed and go through the motions of a day. It is hard to go through life with an emotional prison sentence you got but never deserved. You did not deserve to be treated badly. You do not deserve to have someone feed your demons for their amusement and benefit. You deserve to be treated with kindness. Respect. Love.
One of the hardest steps is dealing with the shame and humiliation. You stayed for a while. Why? Stop punishing yourself is easier said than done.
You find your communication skills and focus slide into a variable setting you cannot always control. You assume you have to stay in a bad place. You try to keep drama low. You try to keep people around you from getting angry. You judge yourself harshly and the downward spiral continues as your mind exaggerates your weaknesses and imperfections.
The abusers words follow you and haunt you. Is there something wrong with you? What if they are right and you really are worthless and terrible?
Wrong. It is hard to see the positives when you are stuck in the cycle. You fight it in your head but part of you feels and whispers: if they were wrong why am I still vulnerable and why do people still think its okay to let them get close to you? People assume they aren't going to be abusive. Abusers say wonderful things about you to everyone but you- it is one of the ways they manipulate the perception people have of them.
This is one of the hardest things to deal with. You find yourself withdrawing from good friends because they go have good times with the abuser. They cheer on positives for that person while you are struggling with anxiety, nightmares and despair having no idea that their actions hurt.
Then at the darkest moment someone walks up. Someone you barely know. They tell you what they are facing. What they struggle with. They read or heard about your struggle. They know you know. They know they can talk to you. They know you know what they are feeling, thinking and going through. You talk with each other. You connect. A little bit of the burden lifts as you share it.
Then another person finds you. Not always people you expect. They share their story. They know. You know. You share the burden again.
After a while you realize that the tip of the iceberg is what folks see; what is underwater: that is what you start to perceive. You realize something needs to shift.
Dealing with my own issues I have found myself mentally identifying friends who are Angels, who I feel safe with. Who I can talk to. Who help me remember to laugh and create a safe place for me. Who react by giving my feelings and experiences validity rather than more heaps of stinking doubt and silence. I realize with the numbers of people quietly finding me that I am not the only one needing Angels. That with Angels around, the pain although present is something that can be dealt with.
This week I am reaching out and starting to work with many friends to create a volunteer network of "Angels" who we will train to outreach and help abuse survivors receive the emotional support to heal and step forward within the Renaissance festival community. We heal together, alone we hurt. Awareness changes the shape of our worlds.

Dealing With What Time Does Not Heal

Life happens. For better or worse. Beautiful moments, exhilaration and inspiration skipping your heart and blooming your smiles. Jagged painful moments: fear, sorrow, shame and anger are sharp edged as the gouge into your mind carving wounds there that time does not heal. Hoping the memories grow less poignant, less destructive does not lessen their impact.
Accidents. Medical issues. They rip away our assumptions of safety and strength. They take people we love in a moment leaving us with memories we hold fast to, as they are what we have left. Those memories and the unsettling knowledge that we are all fragile, mortal, and nothing can be taken for granted.
Abuse. Abuse scars us. Leaves us limping and torn inside, vulnerable. We begin to perceive ourselves as bad, flawed, broken. We perceive that somehow we deserve this and when we look around we see the people around us unaware of what hellish warping has happened to our view of ourselves and each other. It is difficult to break the cycle. It is hard to talk about the pain. The humiliation. The fear which becomes your constant companion. Part of you fights to take your power back, part of you becomes resigned as the community around you seems unaware or even accepting- making you wonder if perhaps you deserve the abuse. The critic in your head uses it all for ammunition.
Time makes it easier to talk about but the feelings come back. They are always with you. Folks seem uncomfortable around you, not always knowing what to say; they often say nothing or change topics which spirals you further into isolation. It gets more difficult to express the things you need to so you can heal and go forward. Depression and anxiety become constant companions you struggle with.
Even harder: when people you love still compliment and express positives about the people who hurt you. When they help an abuser, even if it is not related to you- it feels like bricks in a wall. Part of you wonders, do they understand what you went through? Do they conceive of how horrible a person can be and has chosen to be to you? A quiet voice whispers " they don't believe you."
No one wants to see the worst in a friend, even when its in front of them.
Abusive people can be very charismatic. They do not abuse everyone. Things get dismissed as jokes or moods. Do not talk about it. People might get uncomfortable. Do not talk about it, the abuser doesn't want people to know or to hold them accountable.
You have to talk to heal. The abuser gave up the right to be respected when they chose to use words and actions to torture you. This. This is truth. Talk. You might save someone else. You will save yourself. Talking with supportive people, healthy people- this helps you redefine yourself. It helps fight the inner critic. It helps you heal what time alone cannot.
The feelings do not go away. They are there when you triumph and when you fall down. Some days the feelings make it hard to get out of bed and go through the motions of a day. It is hard to go through life with an emotional prison sentence you got but never deserved. You did not deserve to be treated badly. You do not deserve to have someone feed your demons for their amusement and benefit. You deserve to be treated with kindness. Respect. Love.
One of the hardest steps is dealing with the shame and humiliation. You stayed for a while. Why? Stop punishing yourself is easier said than done.
You find your communication skills and focus slide into a variable setting you cannot always control. You assume you have to stay in a bad place. You try to keep drama low. You try to keep people around you from getting angry. You judge yourself harshly and the downward spiral continues as your mind exaggerates your weaknesses and imperfections.
The abusers words follow you and haunt you. Is there something wrong with you? What if they are right and you really are worthless and terrible?
Wrong. It is hard to see the positives when you are stuck in the cycle. You fight it in your head but part of you feels and whispers: if they were wrong why am I still vulnerable and why do people still think its okay to let them get close to you? People assume they aren't going to be abusive. Abusers say wonderful things about you to everyone but you- it is one of the ways they manipulate the perception people have of them.
This is one of the hardest things to deal with. You find yourself withdrawing from good friends because they go have good times with the abuser. They cheer on positives for that person while you are struggling with anxiety, nightmares and despair having no idea that their actions hurt.
Then at the darkest moment someone walks up. Someone you barely know. They tell you what they are facing. What they struggle with. They read or heard about your struggle. They know you know. They know they can talk to you. They know you know what they are feeling, thinking and going through. You talk with each other. You connect. A little bit of the burden lifts as you share it.
Then another person finds you. Not always people you expect. They share their story. They know. You know. You share the burden again.
After a while you realize that the tip of the iceberg is what folks see; what is underwater: that is what you start to perceive. You realize something needs to shift.
Dealing with my own issues I have found myself mentally identifying friends who are Angels, who I feel safe with. Who I can talk to. Who help me remember to laugh and create a safe place for me. Who react by giving my feelings and experiences validity rather than more heaps of stinking doubt and silence. I realize with the numbers of people quietly finding me that I am not the only one needing Angels. That with Angels around, the pain although present is something that can be dealt with.
This week I am reaching out and starting to work with many friends to create a volunteer network of "Angels" who we will train to outreach and help abuse survivors receive the emotional support to heal and step forward within the Renaissance festival community. We heal together, alone we hurt. Awareness changes the shape of our worlds.

The Always Never Trap

Stress can be good or bad. Eustress is the fancy dress up name for positive stress. Getting a promotion, planning a vacation, versus negative stress which we all know about and occasionally shake our fists and frown at.
Stress adds up. Emotional stress is subtle. It can be corrosive. You are juggling a million things and then someone says something or does something that hits you wrong. You have a day or week where things seem to slip rather than fit.
You find yourself in the all or nothing trap unaware that you've hit the spiky bottom.
Hurting yourself through internal overly critical black and white assessments that inaccurately represent you or how those around you perceive you.
Emotions in the way of neutral accurate perception. Everything is wonderful becomes everything is terrible and why am I alive? I can do anything becomes I am a total failure. Stop. Stop right there.
You are wrong about something. You are not a total failure. You can choose to step back, let go of the pain and self defeating internal dialogue. Reach out and communicate. Get reality checks from healthy supports. Take a walk. Work on a pet project. Do something for someone else. I think of the over 60p.people who participated in the 5K Zombie Run for a local children's charity in Muskogee. Laughing, dressing up as zombies and in fun rainbow ridiculous running tutus and seizing life as they dodged the zombies and helped a charity. Nobody there was always or never, all or nothing. I listened to runners cheer each other on, watched groups encourage and support each other as they aimed to try to 'survive to the finish line.'

Find something that gets you laughing and takes you out of your internal self trap. Put things back in perspective.
Remember your accomplishments, the goals you are working on and what you are working toward. Give yourself a break.
Be aware of your language internal and external. Absolutes are absolutely the last thing that belong in healthy self talk.
Start watching for signs of the sneaky trap. What triggers do you have that set it up? Lack of sleep, anxiety, vitamin or mineral deficiency, social isolation, finances, communication issues, emotional scars that flare up?
When you catch yourself slipping, how can you change how you say? Take ownership and problem solve. When this happens I feel like ---. Communicate with those around you "I am feeling rough today, and ask for help."
Do not assume no one has time for you. Do not assume no one cares. Do not assume you are worthless or a failure. Do not assume!!!
If you aren't communicating clearly- even if all you can manage is to say "I am in a bad head space" or "I am not communicating well" people are wrapped up in their own life juggling and may not catch the silent signs to reach out to you. Whatever has hit the all or nothing switch- although it feels insurmountable, it will pass and eventually it will be small and ridiculous in the rearview mirror of your life.

For today, take care of you. Attend to how you talk to yourself and what words you use in dialogue with yourself and those you love.
Quit beating yourself up over life lessons and focus on the reasons you can choose to smile and grow. 

Life as a Human Cartoon

First thought, being a cartoon- even a half cartoon would be great! Cartoons fall from great heights to reappear perfectly fine moments later, they costume change easily and they come with a laugh track.
A half human cartoon, on the other hand lives with the attributes of both worlds. Mundane life complicated by the universe's twisted sense of humor. Walking down the sidewalk and ending up in the right place at the right time to get doused with a huge puddle by a passing car. Finding out the guys in high school avoided you because your  brother sold them dates with you that never happened- keeping their money and telling them to avoid you fury at the "arranged date" by avoiding you. Going on a date only to find out the guy has a girlfriend and has to suddenly leave: and cue the falling off a cliff with funny sound effect and anvil afterwards. Little tasks may become epic through random chance. Laugh tracks, in real life do not always have good timing.
I studied Wiley Coyote as a child; marvelled at his perseverance. Now I use a sense of humor and perseverance to work on moving forward. Emotional reactions and expectations can get in the way of moving forward. Being half cartoon, easily distracted is part of life that you adapt to and accept. Adapt.
Patches. I patch myself up often, with the goal being that each patch offers the chance for healing to take root, offering a buffer until I address the root causes fully. Each patch reduces the weight and severity of what I carry and deal with.
I offer patches out. The idea that other people may have the same or worse battles in their own heads, sometimes burdened by dark emotions that are better tossed into a trash heap than experienced motivates me to share so that we all move forward.
Now, profound expressed I will likely slip on a banana peel or end up chased home by a runaway giant dragonfly or perhaps instead I will just get to enjoy the sound of crickets and the sight of Fox River. Perhaps today, I can just be human and that is enough.

Seeing the Forest and the Trees

Seeing the forest or seeing the trees, can you do both consciously?
It seems like a trite little phrase until you live it. Standing on stage working through material, watching and gauging audience response with mental analyses and adjustments whirling at thought speed it is the trees and not the forest you see. You look out and notice someone looking at their phone instead of watching. Why, you wonder. You see a few people join the crowd or leave. Why, you wonder. What can I change to draw more? I want to see their smiles, faces rapt at the stories or antics.
Then you have a moment where you talk to the proverbial tree. Then that one says they only came to catch Pokemon, they are in your audience inattentive and brazen about it. Not everyone comes to a show to be entertained. Not every audience member is there for the same reason. Some just want a place to sit, others may visit briefly to get a taste of multiple shows rather than just picking one.
When you look at the trees, it may help find areas to work on but it may also be setting you up for a bad head game. If you try to put a reason on another person's choice you may not pick wisely. You cannot assume someone is leaving your show or interaction because they are avoiding tipping or are not entertained. You may not be the right fit for them or they may just have wanted a sample- they may have a dozen reasons to leave that have nothing to do with you.
Look at the forest instead.  The crowd that stays or returns. Why? A friend of mine, Geoff Marsh, asks candidly of patrons. It is a hard set of questions: did you see my show, did you like my show, feedback on my show. Not fishing for compliments but open mindedly tuning in to be able to enhance his performance. He is a top notch entertainer because he sees the forest and the trees.
I am asking those questions now too. I am learning to step back out of my head trip of negative self defeating conjecture and into analysis and problem solving.
When I ask for feedback, I am asking so I can improve perspective and keep growing. Whatever your challenges and goals, are you taking time to see the forest and the trees?

What can you change in your perspective to move forward in the positive direction you seek to grow in?

What Do You Want & The Challenge Of Asking

What would you like? Scary question. Hard question to answer. What do you want?
I used to have a hard time answering these questions. Christmas was a special hell. My mother insisted we make lists. She then made sure to use the list as a mind game: you got maybe one thing from the list and the rest was stuff you couldn't give away and was somehow the opposite of what you figured out you wanted. You wanted a bathing suit? Here's a neon orange jumpsuit. Same thing right? You got in trouble if you cried or looked upset. My brother and I learned to act to deal with Christmas. We learned to be relieved that dad never got us anything. Nothing was better than shit you didn't want. My mother never noticed we gave it away, first to other kids and eventually to thrift stores. Make a list. What do you want? These questions became a Pavlovian trigger. I worked my way around that trigger; finding ways to get what I wanted through work rather than asking. I still struggle with asking, I try to just soldier through with the resources at hand.

A lifetime of adapting and surviving do not lend themselves to frivolity. I started working after sixth grade. I bought my clothes, snacks, books, and anything else I wanted. Ask someone and deal with a guilt trip or just work and have my own choice. Whining or not being responsible with household chores including cooking and cleaning? There was a barn I could live in or face the threat of paying rent to my parents.
I participated in all school activities, worked, and did household chores. I was a social outcast in school: too smart and outspoken to be cool. One day I stopped home to switch out of my soccer uniform to go to work. I was in tenth grade. I was screamed at so often that I do not register the words or sounds. I walked out of my room into my.mother having a screaming fit. I realized it as one of my cleats bounced hard off the wall next to my head. The cleats I had taken off in the mudroom properly. I had done nothing to trigger this. The screaming was shrill. I was exhausted. No tv shows, no fiction depicts this as healthy family reality. Anger welled up. I was next to the ironing board. The iron was sitting there.
I breathed. I quieted my heart and trembling thoughts which were still trying to figure out what I could have done wrong. Stumble. Forgot. Existing was my poor choice. The defiant egg and sperm that joined to create me were not wanted. They didn't care. They multiplied and the many cells of me were standing there facing a sad reality.
I looked at her. She paused to breathe and shriek again. I spoke. I stood.
I picked up the iron. "You will never speak to me in that tone of voice again. You will never raise your voice where I can hear it. My sister will never have to grow up with you being like this because it stops now. I work. I ask you for nothing. I buy what I want. I put up with your petty commands and clean and cook. I do not party. I do not get knocked up. (She opened her mouth and puffed up with a scowl and flushed face). I brandished the iron. There was fifteen feet between us maybe ten. My voice lowered. "I pitch softball. Problem is, when I loathe the batter I hit them in the head every time. Hard. If you came to games you would have seen helmets flipping off heads. You want to try me, go ahead. Scream one more time. I will pitch this fucking iron so fucking hard. See, its your head I have been aiming at. Make my day, otherwise turn around, walk away and pretend from this moment forward that you are normal." I stood. Iron in hand. Muscles tensed. Ready for the pitch. She could see it. She never raised her voice around me again.
That's the one time in life I can think of something I really wanted: to never hear a shrill screaming woman berating me over imagined slights again.

Fast forward to now. What do you want? Love. Kindness. Time to appreciate beauty in the world. Challenges that keep me thinking and growing. Arkham Horror, the board game. A new ebook reader. A wireless microphone set up. Pots and pans. Flooring for our carport tent. A small fridge. Eventually a generator. Finally. I feel comfortable answering the question of what I want. Now to work on asking. It is amazing to be at a point in my life where I feel I can start asking. I look forward to the moment where the fear of being burdensome in asking is a faded afterthought I can leave in a garbage can somewhere.

Secrets You Don't Know You Keep

I was three, maybe four years old. I was sitting in the hay in the barn playing with the barn cat and her kittens. My father walked in. Looked at me and stepped on a kitten. Suddenly and completely. He lifted his foot. It was flattened, it was dead. I was crushed. I cried and yelled at him. His response "It should have been you." I ran to my mother for support. She claimed I made it up. Somehow I made up the kitten. Somehow I fabricated the corpse. She mentally reduced in her reality the number of animals rather than deal with an unpleasant truth.
I remember doing laundry, as a preteen. Hoping no one would catch the stains hidden on dirty white socks. See, I didn't know what sex was, so I did not know the 'fun secret game' played in my teenage uncles' sleeping bag once or twice a year when he came to stay over. I didn't know the slick, sloppy stuff was semen.
The day the issue reared an ugly head in light of day it was dismissed. A made up tale by a crazy child, who was no longer allowed to handle guns. The sleep overs stopped. I found depression, or rather it found me. My eyes stopped seeing the world. My mother had to take me for an eye exam and the verdict was legally blind in second grade. Some days I want to see the world, most days now. Unfortunately, vision doesn't miraculously return.
Each of us has different life experiences, we have different perspectives and stories.
The challenges and hardships we face and surpass give us an appreciation for the gentle, sweet, healthy, beautiful people and world around us.
The last couple of years had ups and downs. I recount these stories not to burden you, but to free you. To free you to let go of secrets you do not know you keep. To heal and release what you are not responsible for.
I have said before not every story is mine to tell, sometimes there are many unspoken truths between lines. You can be drawn to and love someone who is unhealthy for you. You can also realize how unhealthy that is. You can assess the feeling: is it genuine love or just magnetic draw into abuse? Can you choose to heal and let go of the magnet?
I did. Instead of letting things escalate beyond being drawn into emotional pain, mind games, latent potential of physical violence I made a choice. I chose to value myself. I chose the expressions in the eyes and hearts of those who are healthy friends. I chose to set the baggage down and go.
This is the last time I mention them u less it is to talk about breaking cycles of abuse.

The first person who has to break that cycle is you. Facing your inner self and saying I am worth more than this, I deserve better than this, I do not deserve judgement or punishment, this guilt is not mine.
Say it every day. Live it. Let the loving people around you help you flow forward and heal. You deserve to be healthy, loved, respected and empowered. We all do.

Secrets allow abuse to continue. Secrets endorse it. Secrets allow abusers the power to continue, or to move on to an unprepared new target.

You do not always see it coming, it gets blamed on stress, health, finances. It is never acceptable. Never. You are not crazy.

Today I let this all go with a heavy heart. Children and pets. They get caught in the middle. People keep sharing pictures of black cats on my facebook. I love them. I still grieve Rumor. Now I grieve Sadhu as well, Danny has him. I have no idea how Sadhu is. It is the one way he can still affect my emotions. I have reached out for neutral mediation other than that, I have to let it go.
Goodbye sweet Sadhu. I hope life treats you well and I am sorry I didn't force the issue and take you to Scarborough when he insisted you stay with him.

Quit Sugar Coating.

Criticism is a tricky topic. The word itself is critical. Necessary for growth, change, life but not necessarily always wanted or enjoyable. Our perception and behavioral responses can close out helpful social cues and communication. Shut the door, slam the windows, draw the blinds and hide or point at someone else: the "They" that is cast as Villain in your life.
Emotions help us respond to the world and express ourselves. They are a two edged knife capable of energizing and empowering us with passion or paralyzing us with excuses and closing us away from the very feedback we need to grow and change. They daunt us, stress us, drive us, free us, and limit us. They are by nature, contradictory. When faced with a straightforward appraisal of areas we choose to interact with ourselves and others in an unhealthy way, sometimes they keep us from choosing to listen. They like things sugar coated, where one can suck the positive granules away from the constructive feedback and spit out the bitter truth that could have helped us grow. Thanks emotions, real helpful.
A man walked around the outside wall of a city every day. The wall was twelve feet tall. The stone it was hewn from was flat, smooth. There were no hand or footholds for climbing. There was a door, but to open the door one had to listen to the Sage guarding the door. The Sage could see your flaws. The Sage neutrally identified them, as if reading a grocery list. Many grew somber on hearing the recitation, some turning and leaving before the Sage was done with tears streaming down their cheeks like newly formed waterfalls. Others shouted, argued, or tried bribery and misdirection. The Sage was unmoved. Some attacked the Sage, only to find, the wounds they inflicted were to themselves. Some demanded they were perfect and tried brushing past the Sage, only to find themselves further from the city with ever step forward they took.
The man avoided the Sage after he walked away from him the first time they met. He despised the Sage for so casually listing his flaws. He excused his flaws and justified them more with each step he took. The man walked around the city so many times he made a dirt path around the wall. He could define the city. He knew the wall better than he knew the world. Sometimes he talked with people coming and going from the city. They told him to face himself, it would get easier and he would enjoy the sights within the city. The offered him suggestions, he always held steadfast to his excuses and path rather than try new ones.
Years past. One night, the man was cold. The wall was cold. The night was cold. He walked to stay warm. He could see his breath in the moonlight. He saw through the gate behind the Sage the orange flicker of a fire.
He turned, sighed and faced the Sage again. The Sage looked at him, exhaustion in the lines of his face. The man approached again, shoulders low and ego dragging behind him on the ground. The Sage listed his flaws. The man listened. Some were not so bad as he had chosen to see them as being, while others saddened and embarrassed him as they were worse. They talked for several hours in the cold, crisp night.
Finally, the man understood. Burdens released by choice, he stepped into the incredible City. There is a path worn down around the wall. When you walk it, you will run into others there who are stuck as well, circling and circling. Often, the encouragement they offer each other is sugar coated. Easy to digest but of little value for true progress to be made.
The hardest truths to face are the ones within ourselves that impact how we choose to perceive ourselves and shape how we choose to interact with the world. These truths offer us the most daunting but healing changes, sometimes approaching them is like jumping off a cliff; other times it is as terrifying as a walk down a dark city alley. The key seems to be holding onto the truth that in the end, awareness and positive change improve health, decrease depression and anxiety, and we are not alone. The people who care and support us are always just a thought away. Trust yourself, accept yourself, and problem solve. Painting the problem pretty doesn't resolve it, but I suppose it can make it funny if you really want to waste that much time avoiding the actual issue.

Ease Up

A bad mood curls around your neck and shoulders. You become prickly, agitated, and pressured like a summer storm. How did it develop? Gray clouds of overly critical self judgement, frustration at perception of self limitations you feel you should be long past, the internal evaluation where the interactions with others are distorted by past scars.
You catch yourself running tight circles in a ring, snorting like an angry bull tired of being led and used, ready for a tranquil grass carpeted field. Then someone reminds you to breathe. You look around and realize the arena is in your own mind. You are surrounded by love and kindness, people who encourage problem solving, goal setting, positive motivation. The people around you mirror what you feel and how you deal.
Relearning the shape of relaxation, easing up and letting healing and life happen at their pace. Relieved to be in a place where I can Ease up.
No matter how strong you are, if you live constantly tense and exhausting yourself, then you run out of strength and you fall. Pushes forward are frustrating wrestling matches with yourself, even where we blame someone else: it always comes down to us. The choices we make, how we perceive, how we react. Us.
A good friend said recently "You knew your choice in the relationship you were last in was not healthy: it's why you never asked any of us closest to you about it. You dealt with what you needed to, you're talking again, so you are making healthier choices."
Silence means there is a raging inner dialogue, where analysis and emotion are trying to reconcile with perceived reality. Neither one is particularly good at driving, both certain they are, and unfortunately, life tattered their road map. Instead of pushing them to figure it out, I am learning to work on figuring out a better map for them, letting it be easy like a sunny summer day. Blue skies, no rumbles and no unexpected rain.

Shaping Yourself Whole

Think about your beliefs, judgments, interaction styles. Who shaped them? Are they healthy? Do they ease your journey toward your goals or do they contribute by placing barriers, conflicts and negativity in your path?
Wander back into your childhood memories, good and bad.
"This place better be clean when I get home." The "or else" unspoken but likely a combination of psychological, physical and emotional abuse.
Respond quickly to questions with offers of information and assistance. If no one responds quick enough the negative comes like a thunderstorm.

Often, my childhood was being a mine detector learning tools to defuse emotional mines and suffering the scars of failures.

A lifetime later, I still find the programming of my youth winding around my emotional feet tripping me up and stressing loved ones.

I look forward to the day when my mind and heart finally acknowledge Stand Down.  I look forward to the day that I am not scanning constantly, feeling obliged to calm and prevent the emotional storms of others. I look forward to the day the anxiety gets laid to rest for good. Not buried waiting to rise from the ground like a horror movie monster, gone.

The combat Vets I worked with at the VAMC always asked where I served in combat. I didn't. We didn't talk about it. They nodded. They understood. We each have our scars and demons to fight.

I sit thinking about mental and emotional architecture within each of us. The importance of stability as we address the pillars of who we are and how we interact with the world. The words of others that impact who we become, the sorrow that often the wrong words and voices etch deeper than the healthy ones.

I look at what I need to address. The anxiety has been with me since before I could speak. My words came out a smeared mess of consonants and vowels. I have a strong will and years of practice at preventing it from disabling me. It is past time I confront it fully. I can confront it with the present, with truth, with breathing. In the past, this diminished the influence.

I am allowed to choose whether or not to communicate. Other people are responsible for their actions, choices. My thoughts, feelings, actions and choices are my own to have and make without someone lurking with an emotional or psychological bomb.
If an old trigger gets hit, I can choose to pause. To walk away and let it go rather than fall into a defense pattern.

What old patterns are in your architecture that hold you back? What excuses do you use to shore them up? What motivates you to move forward and shift into healthier ways of thinking and feeling?

No one will ever be perfect. We learn from our mistakes, sometimes, we learn from the mistakes made by those who shaped us. We do not need to choose to hurt ourselves or others now because someone thought it best then.

Insert Catchy Motivational Phrase Here

There are easily a thousand motivational phrases. All right and all wrong. What you need to hear may not make it through the radio static of life. Stress comes and goes like a tide. How we perceive and feel regarding events impacts our well-being.

We learn more from our mistakes than we do from our successes.
Last night I stared under the hood of our van staring at the parts. I know some of their names, can monitor fluid levels and jump batteries. I felt frustration well up. I grew up in a mechanic shop. I spent my time spreading sand on oils spills, taping windows for paint jobs, handing tools to my father and the other alcohol sodden mechanics. They were the best babysitters. I behaved for them because I liked the intricate puzzles of metal they labored over. I asked questions until I fully grasped that I wasn't going to get answers. I was a girl. I wasn't supposed to like engines. I wasn't supposed to learn and being a four year old I respected my elders. I feared getting sent to more sitters who yelled, ignored or bullied me. I should have remembered: I ended up at work with my father because the babysitters kept losing me. I hid from them, escaped from them, made a regular mockery of their attempts to supervise me. I still feared being sent to another mind numbing trailer with moronic shows blaring on a cheap television.
If only minds had been open. If only generations of gender roles had not been so strong in that small town. When I got older I worked at a different tree farm. My family wouldn't hire me as "What would people think of we had women on our construction crew?" At the Cooperative, they thought I was a highly skilled, knowledgeable, hard working member of their propagation team. My rooting rates were remarked on. No one blinked at my gender. They did remark on my colorful vocabulary.
My mistake was acquiescence. I grew out of that. Mostly.

I am not comfortable feeling helpless. I am not comfortable feeling like I'm failing. Is anyone really, or do some just put a better mask? My best and worst attributes come out. My demons circle and whisper louder than thunder. It seems like I'm arguing when I'm listening and arguing to get more detail to better equip myself to deal with myself and situations more effectively.

I've been learning. When these situations arise to stop. Focus forward. Problem solve. Think about past lessons. Think about specific friends and situations that remind you to maintain perspective. Find something to ground with, something to work toward.
Who are your supports? Whether they know it or not, take a moment to reach out of your head to check in on friends. Be there in their moment. Give their voices and conversation a chance to work it's magic. There really is nothing like a smile, friendly voice, a gentle hand on your shoulder, or a focused hug.

Many challenges I navigate through are never expressed aloud. Most come from within. It is humbling to realize you are your best support and worst enemy.

This year I had to face the reality that I cared too much for someone who echoed the worst voices in my head. I let their words enhance the destructiveness of my own shadows. I reached a point where I faced myself. I chose to heal. To grow and to listen to the healing, growing, positive voices instead. I chose to invest in myself. If you don't invest in you, if you do not value you, why would others?

I prepared for Shades of Faerie, nervous about my stories and the event. Taylor Grant and Joshua Safford are amazing storytellers. Would My stories be up to muster? Would my character? Preparing for the event, dealing with last minute details the unexpected happened.

I've spent a lifetime mastering flexibility and acceptance. Make do could be my motto. The guy who was going to do video capture couldn't do it. Omar and I were running errands in Tulsa. He broached the idea of picking up equipment and doing video. It would cost us, but it would be an investment. Initially, an investment in my character and career development; also offering us the option of being able to do video work and other projects. Investing in me, investing in him, investing in us.

The show went well. Compliments and performance awards were given to all three of us for the show.

I think about that often. I've been the one investing in me. My great grandmothers, my grandfathers did before they died. Their investments were emotional. This was a financial investment. From the time I got out of sixth grade, I worked. I made my own money. I bought my own clothes, books, toys. I paid my bills and expenses and played every sport well, got top grades. My parents focused on my siblings. They invested in them.

Having someone invest in you gives you a profound feeling if it's something you are not used to.

Who invests in you? What do you acquiese to? Should you?

Each day is a new day, life is challenges and triumphs. Tragedies and comedies in situations and circumstance that chain from second to second. Finding a way to learn from both in part of being human.

Words Have Power

Each of us has words we associate with experiences and feelings. Rain can bring rainbows or thick mud and brown days. The scent of an Apple pie cooking can be soothing. The sound of peepers at sunset singing for rain may lull you to sleep.

I've lived with words I avoid. Words who bring dark boxes I've put in locked corners of my mind back to the forefront. Like venomous snakes slithering somehow through cracks back out along the edge of perception until an unknowing person innocently drops one like a grenade into the conversation. I physically wince like ice cream hit a nerve in a broken tooth.

The word Joy. It means happiness, exuberance. It was my mother's name. She had a wonderful public mask she strived to be believed as being. She still does. She chased and earned the adoration of the community and my siblings. I was the unwanted child. She had wanted a divorce and an abortion. Face and public opinion were more important. I paid. Those who got close enough saw through her and were there for me. When her bipolar symptoms went unmedicated and she used child protective services as my childhood boogyman, it was my great grandmothers who intervened. She screamed in an empty house as I cried outside hugging reluctant kittens and wondering why life was like this. Joy. Joy screaming. Joy hostile hitting where it would not leave a bruise. Joy threatening to kick me out, so I'd live in a barn or have to pay rent at my own home as a teen. Joy screaming threats when I was asked out by a boy at age 16. Joy intensely telling me how stupid and worthless almost daily for most of my childhood. Joy that my siblings were wanted and oblivious and my father was spineless. I was alone in an unreal reality. No matter how much I achieved I couldn't become valued. The word Love was a weapon wielded just before an emotional net would be dropped and tormenting psychological games would ensue. I learned to hide. I learned to survive. I learned psychology. I learned avoidance. I learned to strive. I learned to ensure. I learned I wanted more than to exist in a world with that kind of Joy. 

That is what Joy was. 

Not anymore. I disowned my parents years ago. I ran. I've crossed the country dropping baggage at each beautiful place and with each achievement. The shadow of the past always had a feeling of dread. These horrible unhealthy people would force their way back into my head. Then I realized they cannot. I pick who is in my heart and in my head. I'm not running anymore. Their baggage is gone. There's no feeling left. Joy doesn't hurt anymore. 

Joy is a beautiful day with friends. Joy is a feeling of happiness after a great achievement. Joy is a purring kitten held close, the sound of bluebird on a sunny day, the shared shenanigans of silly side jokes. Joy is what I make it. Its my choice.

I'm digging through the old boxes, I'm releasing the snakes out of my head. They were not anything to be afraid of.
The part of me that gave them power was and it's long past time for me to own that.

What do you have locked in your head? Have you taken the time to look again and reassess? Take the power out of the larger than life villains, see how pathetic they become in the light of grown up life.
Leave the baggage in the past and see where tomorrow takes you. 

What is Best for You

It sounds like an empowering phrase but often it is a hemp rope slipped softly, loosely around your neck that tightens and pulls you off course. What is Best for you according to someone else. Here, step out of the drivers seat in your life and let this person take the wheel. Their words seem logical, plausible, or considerate. Truly empowering people never try to slip behind your steering wheel. They ride along and offer questions, maybe even offer to help navigate the path you've chosen.

Insert a compliment first, twist in a sincere plea for help. Seems alright, seems harmless, seems reasonable. It is easy to get sucked in. Take a step back.

Look at the compliment. Notice the unintend slight. "You should do this because I need you to, because you'll be amazing at it." Somewhere in there is the unspoken or sideways hint, what you're choosing to work toward is not valid and you're better off doing this instead because really in an outside opinion I'm suggesting passively that you should step away from what you value. I'm making it sound reasonable with compliments and couldn't do it without yous. Mutual need is often suggested. You need this. I'm helping you. I want what's best for you. Really?

They mean well, they're looking from a different perspective and different values color their sight. There is good reason they say the road to help is paved with good intentions. 

 Their statements also quietly tell you they feel you should let them make your decisions. Somewhere in the small print they're actually saying your decision making is questionable at best. Be aware. It is very small print. It is heavy. It can be paralyzing.

There are falsehoods in our heads put there through our lives by others. For whatever reason: control of your choices, fear and self interest, punishment for wrongs that could be as simple and huge as being born. They could be put there out of love, desire to see us achieve things they value or to see us avoid the hazards of life. 

Let's get a few things straight. You are not stupid. You are not worthless. You will be able to survive. You are valuable as You are. You are not crazy. Its not a fad or a phase, your choices and feelings are valid. Never let people whirlwind you into their drama. You are not responsible for anyone else.

So many statements are made to you throughout your life without really ever respecting or considering you. Every single one serving some emotional or financial goal of someone who is putting themselves first. There's subjective communication, it's rushed and assumptive. We're in this together, you are included but in reality it's as the willing meal rather than as an equal. It can happen at work, school and even at home. People drop verbal emotional bombs on each other without consideration. Sometimes they detonate at different times, some slowly lurk like mines waiting for the right pressures to set them off.

Honesty is important to me. I strive to be consistent. I said the last couple of years that my goal was to heal the sacred clown. In attempting this improbable goal, I found I had to rise up and determine my value, my goals and what really is important to me. I ended up healing myself and learning that each of us can only truly choose to heal ourselves. No one can truly heal someone else unless that person chooses to heal.

I changed myself. I grew. I found my value, my goals, my passion. I found myself. No one could do that for me. 

When you get multiple well meaning people putting words in your head that sound like their being helpful and encouraging you by discouraging you from pursuing your real path it gets easy to lose your way. It sounds reasonable. Ambiguity hides the truth. Camaraderie insinuates loyalty in a situation that in the end is really just self serving for someone else. Someone motivated enough to press a positive argument of stepping away from your goals for them because it's the nice thing, the safe thing, the best thing for you- besides, they need you and somehow you are suddenly responsible to them?! Parents and friends and partners do this without meaning to at times. 

You have to listen to yourself and attend your needs and goals first. No one else's life or career is your responsibility.
Unless you are a parent. If you are a parent, do one crucial task: teach your child to value themselves. Teach them to look out for themselves and do not try to manipulate them because of your own fears and inadequacies. If you fail at this one thing, they face huge struggles emotionally that they may or may not survive.

In healthy relationships communication is clear, each person takes care of themselves and then reaches out to empower the other. Each person is accountable for their choices. There's no pressure to fit a mold or to pull out some nails and martyr up.

I've known this for years. Taught it. I'm living it now and fully comprehending it. It is wonderful and liberating. Flying not falling. Truly flying, not just riding a draft.

You can tell someone a thousand times they are beautiful or incredible and they cannot grasp it until the day they realize it for themselves. You cannot make them realize it. You can ask them the right questions so they take a good look into themselves. You can hope that when they take that look they notice the mirror they've been using for years is warped. You can hope they finally throw it out, with it all the baggage they've carried for too long. It can go in a moment and all the stick feelings with it- if you choose to be brave.

Me?

I am an actor. I am an entertainer. I am a storyteller I am a writer. I work with words. Some weeks I may be eight to ten different people. I might pull off the role of cooking at a Mexican restaurant, I might be a mascot, might teach you to throw axes or guide you through a meditation. I might be reviewing your performance. I might be on a stage or talking down someone overwhelmed by panic. I keep learning new skills, there will always be new roles. Underneath it all, I am myself. I value the person I am. I value what I do.  The best way I can honor the people I love is by putting myself first; at my strongest I can be a healthy part of their support. At my weakest burdened by prioritizing the agendas of others, I could barely find the time to work on my goals and restlessness distracted me. My health suffered. I value my friends for who they are. 

What words are in your head, pacing back and forth? Who put them there? Why might they have done that? Who do the words serve?

If the words are truly empowering, there is no weight to the words. If the words were offered and you choose to keep them because they free you, strengthen you, and put you first: treasure that person or people! Those are your real supports. Its only taken me 39 years to really figure this all out. If not, realize you do not have to choose to allow that person's words in your head anymore.

I am working toward my goals and dreams. I found them. Its amazing how they suddenly exist when you take care of yourself. It feels wonderful. Problems get solved. You'd think there would be a lot of emotional rubble to clean up, but it vanishes as the sun inside you rises.

I hope to see the sun in you rise as well. I hope you choose to respect the people you love. The choice is yours. Be kind to each other, consider your words and intentions before you pour them into someone else's head. And be kind to those who with good intentions might have questioned your path, help them find their way back to themselves and their value. Most likely someone shook them off their path and they've followed through by passing on the cultural what is best for you. 

Be Your Own Savior

There are many things I would love to write about. I don't always have the right to choose to share them. Many issues I face or help others address are not the kind of issues I can share.

A few weeks ago I got a Craigslist follow up call, I was amused thinking it was for a foot modeling gig for private parties. Would my feet measure up? Would they be the Foot Fetishist Dream? Would  I be able to act like I cared?

Instead it was an interest meeting for brokering. It was eye opening. Company has an excellent reputation and is focused on helping people plan for retirement and set up benefits into plans that accrue interest in a consistent manner without risk of giant, catastrophic loss. Talking with Sammy about the company, income potential, and what brings people into working as brokers we covered heavy topics.

Several of the guys left college admissions. It was about getting people to choose to take on debt with high risk and minimal value. They left. They left high level management positions.  Sammy looked at me, asked why I would consider becoming part of their team. It was obvious I was not profit driven. I was the wild card in the room, great socialization skills but little concern for money.

I thought about it. I would do it to help others. I would do it to be able to fund projects and work that I believe in. I would mostly give it away.

I think about that and look around. I see a world full of people caught up in their own worlds. I spend a lot of time thinking of what I can do or say to help them step out of the metaphorical cave and into the light. Donald Trump has taught me one thing of merit. He's taught me that people aren't choosing to be as progressive as they could be. Many are choosing old and unhealthy behaviors and indulgence. It's easy to complain and rip apart Those People, when you are not one of them and you're sitting comfortably surrounded by amenities.

Some days I wonder if we need reminders of mortality and disaster to shake people into caring for each other. Other days I wish I didn't know it to be true.

Why choose selfishness? The dis-ease and unrest in our society comes from our selfishness and insecurities. Fear of jealousy, fear of change, fear of competition, fear of commitment, fear of pain or discomfort, fear that others will know our weaknesses, fear of social reprisal or ridicule. I deserve. I want. I should have. Rationalizing why it's okay just because you don't have to see the person who's picking up the tab for your excess. Record profits are great when you don't have to stare the family struggling to pay their bills signing up for assistance because the parents wages are set low to keep profits high.

We like sports. Teams to cheer for. Shit talk to dish out. Grudges and posturing to do. Its the same with religions, politics, and social status. I don't buy into it. I save my money and time for the quiet desperation I see in others faces. I save it to help them help themselves. I give them the tools when I can so they can be their own Saviors. I quietly offer them the idea that their lives are up to them, their choices are not society's to make. There are no rules they need to live by if they are willing to accept the consequences of their actions. With this knowledge comes freedom. You can drive a hundred miles an hour if you are willing to pay the price and potentially lose your life. You can also choose to start a business to empower people to help each other and to offer them tools to save themselves.

Sammy offered me the tools to be my own Savior potentially. It is in my hands whether I slide into old excuses or whether I progress around walls that have blocked me in the past. I am the enemy I face off against.

Danny says to me "You have to learn to put yourself first." It hurts to see people choosing hate, aggression, ignorance. It hurts.

What would make you happy? What do you want?
Tough questions. I want freedom. I want to keep moving, traveling, and growing. I want to see other people choosing the same. I want to see us start fighting a war against corruption, greed and corporate control. Society disappoints. It snags our focus with outraging soundbites and quotes. It seduces us with the illusion of awareness as actual change. It manipulates us through plausible arguments. It entices us with money.

Work harder. It is the only way to get to your true god. Money. Show me one church in this world that isn't operating with money. One that gives away every dime it gets. One that doesn't care if it even gets a single dime. Wait, there is one. It's the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Alright, other than an Atheist Church, any?

The more money you make, the quicker it's gone and the more personalities shift to keep it away from everyone else unless it's done in a way that makes it come back. Tax write offs are often mistaken as generosity.

And those people that own the governments and political machines, do you think they work harder?
Many were ruthless in business, earning their money from taking advantage of other people or destroying other people. They aren't working hard. They aren't working at much other than to keep the ridiculous excess they have. They spend a lot of money to convince you to go into debt or to work harder for them. They pay the politicians on  both sides just to give you sport to cheer for and rail against.

You change the world so much through social media gripes that nothing changes. You give away all of your privacy. Your desires, dislikes, all up for grabs. They are being analyzed to use for company profits. Not for your ease or benefit. That is not what capitalism or corporatism is about.

 Perhaps more people need to learn to put society first.
In a world where we value each other as much as ourselves, we would choose to take the time to settle differences. We would attend to each other's well being without worry of cost. We would share knowledge and resources as needed.

It is not a perfect world. Our society was shaped by cutthroat profiteers. We allow red collar criminals to make fortunes as we kill each other in wars that are really about money so they can be richer.

That money could be providing for everyone. Instead it is gouging our world, ripping it apart.

I can't change anyone but myself. I realize there is nowhere in this world that I can save myself from encountering greed, bullying, apathy, and shallow preoccupations except within my own heart.

I tell you. Be your own Savior.
It is up to you to choose what sort of human you are. Religions have tried for hundreds of years to keep people from choosing to destroy each other or to justify the destruction of others. Time to change unhealthy patterns. Support religious groups and leaders who live as they teach, who encourage healthy behaviors and tolerance instead of bigotry and violence.

Don't tell me you follow an amazing spiritual advisor who tells you to give away while they live in a mansion and swim in millions. That is not feeding the poor. That is not helping the needy. That is not using their resources for positive change. It's called profiteering.
Remember. In one hundred years, no one will really remember you at all. Do you remember the names of your ancestors, their stories?

What sort of life do you choose to live? What excuses are you using to keep following a path of powerlessness?

There's a phrase I love. Pick your own battles. A better one. Pick your own peace. Make your own peace.

There are many stories I cannot share. They are an ocean I swim with undertow I cannot describe but feel pulling at me relentlessly. I let go. I do what I can do. I offer what I can. I let go to survive.

You can waste a lifetime vomiting pointless opinion on social feeds. You can choose to spend that time changing your path. Your choice. Are you a hamster or a human? The wheel is waiting but so is the world.

#Seeyouinthestreets

Magic Moments Happen Everyday

How do you approach the day? Does your awareness embrace each moment? Do you savor the positives in your life or are you caught on the one way roundabout of gripping and resentments?

Looking at the downs, they are heavy and hard but we should acknowledge then work through them. Let them go. Negativity just feeds stress.

Who fosters the positive in your life? How many times in a day do you find yourself repeating stories? Are they stories that stress and drain the listener or stories that bring a smile and a laugh? Everyone needs validation and to vent sometimes but if you're finding excuses to gripe or to rehash the same frustrating tale over and over- then it's time to stop. I look at Danny's best friend Danny, blowing up squealing balloons for the kids at free music nights in the park. He's having a great time and so are the children. Parents are relaxing as they enjoy the music, knowing the whole family is having a special time together with the community in Longmont at the music nights. 

Time to change a bad habit. I send the people I love text pictures of beautiful sights. They send me pictures or love. Recently we started a habit of taking a sunset picture and sharing it. A little thing with huge impact: smiles, thoughts of loved ones, short conversations focused on appreciation. At least once a day regardless of how rough or dark things are, we fill our thoughts and hearts with beauty.

I've got over a thousand pictures just this year from California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado. I enjoy looking through them. Thinking of everyone at Tres Banderas, Renaissance festivals, and all the other friends we made along the way and hoping their doing well rather than thinking yet again of stress, tight budgets, the unknown, and all the other gnawing factors of life. Either you are devoured by the negative or you rise above it, lifted on the hearts of friends.

Magic Moments Happen Everyday if you choose to accept them. You are worth it and you never know when you might have missed the moment until it's gone.